Dreams Ch. 03

"No, it started way before that. Carl would tell me all marriages were this way -- that all couples fought and hit each other once in a while. He'd apologize and promise not to do it again too -- I believed him. I tried to believe it would all stop for years, and then I started the journal. I knew I was telling myself a lie."

Beth said, "Fran, this is an important document to the courts. I think we should copy it or scan it or something so it won't get lost." Fran agreed, so I got my camera and with Beth's help took about a hundred photos of the double-sided pages in the notebook. Later, I put them on my computer and on a CD. We honored Fran's wish not to read everything. Somehow, we had her trust.

Ed Harris, Fran's divorce attorney, called the house that night with an update on things. Fran shared with us all what was going on after she hung up. The restraining order had been issued. Carl had been served with both the order and the divorce papers late in the afternoon at his work. Further, a court date in three weeks had been set at Ed's request for the two of them to appear opposite each other before a mediator. Ed explained this was one way to force the issue with Carl about property distribution. Fran should have half interest in the appreciation on the house and half of the bank accounts. Carl would have to submit a detailed list of family assets to the court within a week. Things were moving fast.

"How will I pay for this?" Fran suddenly wondered. "I haven't even thought about his fees until just this second. He's so able ... and probably very expensive. I should call him back and ask him."

Greg said in a quiet voice to her, "There's no fee, Fran. This is a friend of the family returning a favor."

Fran was almost speechless. "You mean all this legal work is free?"

"Yes. He was in my family circle years ago, and we still have that kinship."

Linda said, "We were very close to Ed and his wife Ginny years ago. We just don't see each other as often as we did back them, although I think we'd like to. They'd been neighbors, but had to move away while Ed completed law school. Perhaps, after this, we'll be able to rekindle our friendship."

Linda gave me glance that let me fill in the blank space between what she'd just said and her comment a few days earlier about having a two-year relationship with another couple years before. It helped me understand Ed's willingness to help a new family member.

On a more pleasant note, Fran had reached her psychic friend and invited her to the house on Saturday afternoon. Perhaps we'd start to get to the bottom of all our shared dreams.

Fortunately, the rest of the week was uneventful. Fran seemed to be doing better emotionally, and looked forward to the Saturday visit of her old friend.

Fran's friend, Marcy Winters, arrived with a flourish about three on Saturday afternoon. A heavyset woman in her sixties, she swept into the house in a long, flowing, and colorful gown, with a sheaf of papers under her arm. Introductions were made and we all sat in a circle in our living room.

I'd always been skeptical of people labeled as psychics. I had the feeling that almost all of them were charlatans and the remaining few, if there were any, might just have some keen insight imbued by nature that was unreliable, unpredictable, and often inaccurate. Thus, I started our meeting with low expectations.

Marcy started us off, "I'm a psychic. I know that most of you are non-believers, however, we'll let that point slide. My purpose here isn't to tell you about your futures, although I do sense bright things for all of you -- even for you Fran after you get through this muddy period in your life. I'm here to talk about dreams, a subject near and dear to my heart."

She went on, "Fran gave me about two sentences about your experiences, and I want to hear more, but before I start I want to give you some background about dreams. Let me tell you the scientific part first -- and start by mentioning that we've been studying dreams in a serious way since Sigmund Freud."

"There are two dream states: REM and Non-REM -- rapid eye movement we can see when someone is asleep. People dream in both states. Apparently, dreams in non-REM take past events and project them into the future, whereas REM dreams help you experience the future -- even something you've never experienced, like a simulation or a test of possibilities. You hit REM sleep about four times a night for relatively short periods of time compared to Non-REM sleep."

Marcy paused to be sure everyone understood the continued, "We know dreams produce some wonderful ideas -- at least two Nobel prizes, all sorts of wonder drugs, and artistic works beyond numeration going back for hundreds of years. We also know that some people can direct their dreams. If you say as you go to sleep, 'I want to dream about X,' then about half those people will dream about it in some way. If you dream about sports or other activity, the dreamer will improve their performance in that activity."

"Now psychics have thought about dreams for thousands of years -- the earliest recorded history we know about are advisors to the pharos in Egypt. A good psychic will treat a dream as window into your mind -- a time when you were trying to make sense of something, or gaining insight about something, or questing after something."

"Now, someone tell me about your dreams and don't leave any details out. I heard they were sexual, and I want to get turned on before I have to go home." She laughed at her attempt at humor.

We all laughed with her, and there were a few blushes around the circle. Everyone looked at me. I gulped and then recounted my first dream, asked if that was too much detail - it wasn't, and so went on through the other dreams I'd had. I frequently looked to the others when they'd been one of the dream subjects.

Fran had not heard the detail of my dream sequences, only that I'd shared sexual dreams with some of the others. As I gave my descriptions, I watched her hang on every word and weigh in some way what I was saying and what I'd dreamt.

Marcy summarized, "So you had dreams at random intervals over a couple of months about your friends here, and perhaps a few others. In them you performed various sex acts, made love with one, two, three, and many other people, both male and female; and felt awash not only in the lust of each situation, but also in love."

Marcy turned to the others and asked, "Does that pretty much explain all your dreams and feelings -- where you parallel Ariel's dreams?"

Everyone nodded. Josh, Fran, Greg and Linda looked on with fascination for they'd never been part of the dream group.

Marcy asked, "Did any of you ever feel you'd been hypnotized?"

The six of us all shook our heads 'no.'

"Hummm. Well, one explanation is that some where along the line before your dream, the six of you came of a common mind about some subjects -- certainly the orgy you dreamed about, even some of the specifics. But, and a big but, you'd all most likely remember starting the hypnosis process."

"Another theory about common dreams -- and the one I favor in describing your situation -- concerns soul mates." I shot Tom a glance because I knew he didn't believe in such aspects of a relationship. Marcy went on, "I use the term soul mates to describe people in the same 'soul group' -- spirit beings or energy personalities that have shared the same soul space in other realities, other worlds, or other lives, you take your pick."

"In this case, various combinations of you agreed you wanted physical experiences -- experiences in this matter space, experiences of a sexual nature. Now, each of you is linked to an energy personality -- some of you may want to call it your soul. It's the part of you that prevails beyond this life. Much the way you have a social circle in this material world, energy personalities have similar circles. It's not that simple, but that explanation will do here."

Marcy tested each of us visually to see if we were with her. I actually had followed where she was going, and her credibility with me had actually gone up as she talked. She seemed to be a straight shooter, even though she was dealing with the ethereal.

She went on, "The simplest explanation is that you brought the desire for these experiences into this material world. At an agreed upon time, time being meaningless in these other dimensions I might add, your energy personalities visit your physical body at a time when it is most susceptible to ideas -- when you're dreaming. Presto chango, you have the same dreams; it's like a TV show played to you while you're asleep."

We all sat there motionless. I had tried to think of other possibilities -- possibilities that this physical work -- as Marcy called it -- could explain. Except for the hypnosis idea that she'd mentioned I could only think of things on the fringes -- ESP, mind reading, and ... bingo I was off into her world -- the psychic world. A world I didn't understand very well.

I asked, "What about the fluids and the orgasms?"

Marcy laughed. "Women -- and for that matter men -- have been masturbating in their sleep for as long as we can remember. We all know we emit fluids of various kinds, particularly women from their vaginas and other nearby orifices. I can't be certain, but I speculate that the fluids you found yourself awash in came from within."

We talked with Marcy for another hour, bringing out coffee and tea appropriate to the afternoon hour. After that, she and Fran went off on their own, no doubt for Fran to update her friend on the changing tides of her personal life.

I changed into my running singlet and went on a long jog around the neighborhood, dodging cars on the narrow roadways of Niland Springs. I thought about what Marcy had told us and found comfort in her ramblings. Her explanation was simple, and since I did believe in an 'after life' the concepts seemed reasonable.

*

Marcy had gone when I got back, and all my lovers were reading, computing, or into other projects. I went out by the pool. Linda was sunning, and we talked briefly about my run and Marcy's comments.

I stripped down to my birthday suit and dove into the pool, a refreshing dip after the six miles I'd run. After a few laps, I just floated on my back, the afternoon sun warming my torso in a sensuous way.

With my eyes closed and the sun warming me to my core, I started erotic thoughts about my own body. I went through all the places in my body that were sexual or erotic in some way.

My hair was a tool when I made love to someone -- I could run my hair up and down their body, their breasts, their dicks, their legs, and their torsos, everywhere. My ears were sensitive -- I loved to have people run their tongues in them or fondle them as we made love. My eyes could view my lovers. My nostrils could inhale their pheromones and the sexual odors we made. My lips could kiss and suck and blow and bite. My tongue could lap and lick a penis or a cunt, and my throat could act as a second vagina when I chose.

My arms and hands are known instruments of passion. My breasts were points of pleasure received, and if I dragged them over someone's body a means to pleasure someone else.

My torso was one big receptor of pleasure, particularly when massaged or stroked. My legs were the same -- erogenous zones from toe to ground zero -- and I could wrap them around my lover's waist and pull him deeper into me.

And then there was ground zero. The pool water lapped at my pussy and small bubbles from beneath me tickled through my slit and around the little pubic hair I kept shaped as a heart. Oh how I loved to fuck -- to make love -- to have intercourse -- to be eaten -- to be fingered -- to be double penetrated -- to do everything sexual. Why had I been born with such a preoccupation with my cunt?

No, thank God, I'd been born with a preoccupation with my cunt -- and sex -- and all the other things I enjoyed so much.

When I opened my eyes, Fran was standing beside the pool looking at me.

She said, "You are one sexy lady, do you know that?"

I smiled and stopped floating, pulling my hands through my hair to wring out some of the water. "It's funny I'd just gone through thinking how sexual my body was. As I told you earlier, I love this life and the people in it."

Fran said, "I've watched all of you. You all really are in love; even the Whites, although they're a generation older. Somehow the age gap doesn't make a difference."

Fran was silent for a long while. She kept staring at me, weighing some important choice she had to make. This was a woman in the midst of a colossal life change, but somehow this choice seemed something else -- something new.

She pulled her top up over her head, revealing a functional white bra edged with lace. A moment later she reached behind her and unfastened the bra and deposited it atop her top on a nearby chair.

Fran's breasts were full with large areolas and luscious nipples I wanted to suck on. She undid the belt on her shorts and the zipper; all the moves seemed so deliberate and important to the moment. She pulled them down her legs along with her undies, tossing them on the pile of her clothing.

Fran's bush was unshaven and unshaped. It was full and lush. Her hips had the angular points of her pelvic bone showing through just enough to be attractive and sexually rich.

Fran walked to the pool steps and came down them slowly. Her gaze was now locked with mine. I stood in the middle of the shallow end of the pool about twelve feet from the steps. She closed the distance, came up to me, and we hugged ... and then we kissed ... and then our tongues found each other's mouths and we were in a soul kiss -- unrushed and intentional.

"Fran, I love you."

"Ariel, I love you. I love your family."

"You're already part of it. You don't have to ..."

She put a finger on my lips. "This is about all I've thought about since I saw some of you making love out here four nights ago. I've measured myself and how I feel -- what I want and need, and how I want it, and I've watched each of you -- the guys especially. Oh, what I wouldn't have given to have fallen in love with all of you twelve years ago."

We kissed again. There was a humorous moment as we rubbed our breasts together, feeling the stimulation of nipple to nipple. I leaned in and sucked on each of her breasts; the experience was very satisfying. She sucked on mine.

I asked softly, "You've never been with a woman? Are you sure?"

"Yes. I want you to be my first. I've always liked you, but I can see you love me. I return that love to you now."

"The others?"

"In time. Not long, maybe even tonight with someone else."

"The divorce? Will it make a difference?"

"No. The papers are filed. The real decision has been made -- it was made ten years ago when Carl pushed me down a flight of stairs."

"Oh Fran." I hugged her.

She said, "Come to my room. Make love with me -- to me. Let me love you."

The two of us came up the stairs of the pool, dried off, and went into the house and up to Fran's room. We made love for an hour.

Fran kept apologizing for being so inexperienced about how to make love to a woman. I just kept telling her, just do to me what you'd want me to do to you. Finally, towards the end of our time together, she got the knack of it. I fired off a few orgasms for her, and brought her to a few too. There was little of each other's anatomy we'd left unexplored.

The house is not completely soundproof, plus as I'd already learned when Fran saw all of in the pool making love a few nights earlier, it also has many windows. Moreover, we are a communicative bunch.

When Fran and I walked downstairs for dinner, one by one each of the other members of the family went to Fran and gave her a sexual hug and a passionate kiss. Dave started the welcome and caught her by surprise, thus the kiss was lackluster and very one-way.

Tom was next. Fran was a little better prepared. They ground their hips together and laughed. The French kiss was better organized and executed. Beth got in the act, and then Peter and Mar. Greg was a little more traditional, but Linda surprised us all. Josh seemed the happiest at welcoming her. Dave came back at the end for a replay. Now we were all laughing and applauding.

After dinner, Josh had rented a DVD and most of us went down to the media room to watch the movie. As seats were taken, Josh insisted that Fran cuddle up and sit in his lap. As the plot unfolded, we all became increasingly aware of how much kissing and romance was going on between Josh and Fran.

I could see that they would be the couple of the night. Several other pairings were made including Tom and me.

*

In the middle of the night I felt Tom awaken with start. His body went rigid -- a second later he was out of bed and at the window looking down at the patio and pool. I awoke instantly in response to his tension.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He whispered to me. "Keep quiet. I heard a noise."

"Isn't the alarm set?"

"I'm not sure. Where's Fran -- with Josh? Bedroom Z?"

"I think so."

"Be right back." I was up now and followed Tom into the upstairs hallway that ran the length of the house. He paused at the door to 'Z,' opened it, and peered in. I heard whispering, and then Josh appeared. Both men were nude. Fran came into the hallway too, her nude body reflecting the incidental light from downstairs.

"Get dressed."

"Be right back." The two men disappeared back into their rooms and were back in seconds in jeans and loafers. I felt safer seeing the muscular bodies of the two men. Fran came and huddled with me in our room; we stood and looked out the window.

Fran speculated with a touch of fear in her voice, "Do you think Carl found me? How would he?" I just held her naked body against mine; we hid partially against the curtains. I saw a shadow race from left to right on the far side of the pool -- off in the grass that led down to the pond. It was too soon to be either Tom or Josh.

"Wait here," I told Fran. "Stay out of sight."

I went down the hall to Greg and Linda's suite. Seconds later I'd roused Greg. "Something's going on. There's a prowler around, but the alarm hasn't tripped yet. Tom and Josh are already up, but I think we need to muster."

Greg was alert instantly. "Get the others up. Bring Fran in here. If it's Carl, this is the safest place to be."

I went from bedroom to bedroom rousing the troops, but keeping anyone from turning on lights or making too much noise. Everyone was getting dressed. When I got to Fran's room I grabbed her blouse and some shorts, and brought them with me to Josh's room. She dressed and we went back and joined Linda. Linda locked us into her master suite.

Linda said, "Greg called the police. He knows the police chief here and worked with the department on some of their planning work. They're on their way."

I heard the alarm sequence into the off position, and two of the downstairs doors open. I assumed it was the men going out into the night. I was scared. I looked out the window and saw Tom and Dave race across the patio, around the pool, and down towards the pond with flashlights waving in the dark. Off to the side, along the driveway I caught a glimpse of Dave taking up station so he could see along the entire back of the house. I assumed Peter had the view along the front.

Now lights started to come on in the house. Headlights swept up the long driveway at high speed. It was a police car. Another set of headlights roared past the driveway entrance to circle around to the other side of the pond behind the house.

I opened the window on the front of the house and heard Peter engage the two officers in the squad car in excited conversation. Dave came around the side of the house and joined them, and then they split into two teams circling the house, an officer with each of the guys. Flashlights waved off into the darkness from all quadrants now.