The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Title: Dream State

Version: $Revision: 1.17 $ $Date: 2004/07/31 03:06:02 $


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

The web sites StoriesOnline ( and ASSTR ( have explicit permission to archive this story.

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

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

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

Chapter 18—“It’s a nice day to start again!”

From Chicago, we traveled to San Francisco, where (of course) Debbie had a small apartment complex. Unfortunately, Aimee discovered that all the rooms in the complex were leased, so she called around and got us a set of rooms at the Hyatt on North Point Street near the famous Fisherman’s Wharf for a week.

Following William Voder’s advice, we had decided to formalize the marriage between Mary and me, having Debbie and Aimee act as witnesses. Due to the fact that neither Mary nor I were religious, we opted for a civil ceremony.

Once we decided to get married, Aimee contacted William Voder, and he arranged to have all the legal requirements for a marriage certificate set up while we were out of town. These included things like birth certificates and other official documents. Thanks to William, we had a marriage license waiting for us (the signatures on the form were perfect samples of our real ones). The cost for us to do this on our own was about a hundred dollars; William’s actions just made it easier for us.

When we went to pick up the license, we were surprised to find that it was a confidential marriage license.

I wasn’t familiar with the concept of a “confidential” license, but Aimee told me that William Voder said that such licenses limit their distribution by the county clerk to the actual parties to the marriage. Nobody else can get the details of the information on the marriage certificate, except to ask the county clerk to verify that we were married, if specifically asked. In other words, information like the date of the marriage or the names of the witnesses would not be divulged. Aimee figured that having such a license would make it just a bit more difficult for the people tracking us to get the information. This might be Mr. Voder’s way of “sending a wild goose in their path,” as he described it.

The helpful Mr. Voder also found a justice who would be happy to perform a civil ceremony for us, so we got ready. We wanted to have our ceremony in the middle of the week, mostly to avoid any weekend rush for weddings.

When Aimee called the justice, she had been told that a consultation with Mary and I alone with the judge was preferred prior to the ceremony.

On Thursday, Mary and I arrived an hour early to talk with the judge. At the office, we saw a woman at a desk, and I introduced myself.

“Hello, I am retired Army Captain James Montgomery, and this is my fiancee, retired Army Lieutenant Mary Cadley. Could you please tell the judge that we’re here to see him?”

The woman looked up at us and smiled. “You’ve just told the judge, and she is already seeing you.”

I blushed, and wished that Aimee had told me that the judge was a woman. “I’m sorry, your honor...”

The judge laughed. “Don’t worry, son,” she said. “I get that some times, and I love having a laugh. I don’t have a clerk now that I’m retired, and I don’t often see people in this office.”

Not knowing the protocol, I approached the judge and offered my hand. The judge looked at me and then shook my hand.

I said, “I was told that you wanted to talk with Mary and me before the ceremony?”

“Yes,” the judge said. “I was informed that your license is a confidential one. Since I didn’t recognize either of your names, I was wondering if there was a particular reason that you were doing so.”

“Our story is private,” I explained. “It’s not that we’re trying to hide from the public, so I’m willing to explain it to you. I joined the army in the mid-1970’s, and after an accident, I spent a dozen years in a coma. Mary served in the army as well, although we never served together. Mary and I briefly met before the accident that put me in the hospital, and we fell in love after I woke up.”

The judge looked intrigued.

I continued. “We’ve been trying to live a quiet life since then, and have traveled around extensively. Mary, who has had military intelligence training, has noticed people following us, perhaps to get a story for the newspapers. The last thing we need with our lives is the scrutiny of media attention. I think that our lives should be private, and we have a couple of friends that will be letting us use their vacation property in Hawaii for the next month or so in order to get out of the sight of the people that may want to intrude upon our privacy and possibly hope that they will forget about us.”

The judge sniffed, “I think you are a bit naive if you think that a mere month or two will remove those bloodhounds from your hair.”

“Perhaps, but we just want to get married and live our lives together. We don’t ask for much, just our privacy. I am not bitter that I have lost twelve years of my life, but I am anxious to make up for lost time, and I wish to do this with Mary. I have a lot to learn about this decade—and it’s almost over! In Hawaii, life is peaceful and serene. We can simply focus on each other and take things at our own pace.”

The judge looked at Mary. “An old friend contacted me about you. He told me, and your fiancee has just confirmed, that you worked in military intelligence?”

Mary nodded. “I was trained as an agent, although I left the service before I was actually given an assignment.”

“Why did you leave the service?”

“I was driving the jeep that collided with Jim,” Mary said. “I was responsible for hospitalizing him—I thought that I had killed him. I couldn’t bear the thought that my first kill would have been one of our own soldiers.”

The judge looked from Mary, back to me, and then back to Mary.

“Where were you stationed?”

“Fort Huachuca.”

“In Arizona?”

Mary nodded. “Are you familiar with that base?”

“I’m pretty familiar with it.”

It occurred to me that this judge had been recommended by William Voder. “Huachuca specializes in the intelligence branch of the army,” I explained.

“As I said, I’m familiar with it,” the judge said, smiling. Turning to me, she asked, “Where were you stationed?”

“I attended O.C.S. at Fort Benning, and then was temporarily transferred for inter-unit operation at the Marine basic camp in San Diego before being scheduled to leave for Fort Bragg in North Carolina. The accident happened after a party in San Diego, and I have not been officially notified about what happened to my command during the time I was unconscious, but I learned that it had been disbanded due to budget cuts after my accident.”

Turning to Mary, the judge asked, “If you were stationed in Arizona, how did you manage to get into an accident in San Diego?”

“I was assigned there for part of a training exercise,” Mary explained.

The judge looked at Mary, expecting some more information. Mary didn’t offer any.

After a minute or so, the judge nodded. “I needed to hear your stories myself,” she said. “I was given more or less the same information you just gave me. Your story is... well, unusual. I didn’t want to be a party to anything illegal. That being said, I have no reason to doubt the two of you.”

“Thank you, your honor,” I said, stiffly.

“Please, Mr. Montgomery,” the judge said. “It’s just the three of us here right now. When will your witnesses be arriving?”

I looked at my watch. Debbie and Aimee were due in about forty-five minutes. “At two o’clock,” I answered.

The judge nodded. She got up from behind her desk and said, “Well, if you don’t mind, we have some time to kill. There’s a perfectly nice saloon a couple of doors down from my office, and it’s air conditioner works a bit better than the one in this office. I would be honored if the two of you would join me for a tiny drink before the rest of your party arrives.”

I looked at Mary and decided to let her answer. “We’d be honored ourselves,” she said.

The judge led the two of us out of the office and into a bar three doors down. Inside, she led us to a booth near the back. When the waiter arrived, she ordered a glass of Merlot, and Mary and I ordered the same.

“So, how’s William?” the judge asked.

“William?” I asked.

“You know very well who I mean,” the judge smiled. “William Voder set you up with me. I take it you know who he is, and have probably seen him recently.”

I didn’t confirm nor deny the judge’s assertion.

“Since you were nice enough to give me your stories, let me tell you mine,” the judge said, ignoring my silence about William.

“The army put me through legal school, which was unusual for them to do, especially with a woman during the early fifties. In return, I worked with the Judge Advocate General corps during the Korean conflict, and eventually into the Viet Nam conflict. Later on, I was put on special assignment, where I met William. I left the service in 1972, and quickly got a job as an assistant district attorney in San Francisco County, and then served on the bench in 1977. I’ve served almost ten years on the bench, and there were rumors that President Reagan was considering me for the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, a post that I wasn’t really interested in taking. Instead, I retired just last year, and I now make quilts and doll clothing for various craft fairs, which allows me to travel. Performing civil wedding ceremonies and the like also affords me some spending money for travel.”

The judge sipped her wine and added, “William asked me to perform your ceremony. He tells me that the daughter of his late partner will be one of the witnesses.”

I decided denying knowledge of William Voder any further was impractical. “You are referring to Debbie Malen,” I said. “She’s a close friend. Her associate, Aimee Porter will be the other witness.”

“William more than hinted that there may be more to your relationship than meets the eye,” the judge said. “I’ll have you know that different relationships are not that unusual here in San Francisco. Although I was a judge, and perhaps I am still considered one even though I’m retired, I do not personally judge people on their lifestyle choices. I will advise you that not all people are as broad minded as the people in this city.”

I shrugged. “I’m aware of that, and I thank you for your understanding.”

Something tugged at my consciousness, and I realized that Debbie and Aimee were in the general vicinity. I sent a quick message to Aimee, directing her to the bar where we were.

I felt Aimee and Debbie approach us, and the judge seemed surprised when they came to the table.

“Judge McHenry, I would like to introduce our two friends. The tall lady is Deborah Malen, and this other lovely lass is Aimee Porter.”

“What a serendipitous occasion!” the judge said. “I’m glad you stumbled upon us.” She shook the hands. “Ms. Malen, I would like to offer my condolences on the loss of your father. I only met him a few times, a long time ago, but he was a very nice man.”

Debbie radiated a tiny bit of melancholy, as she normally does when reminded about her father, but she forced a smile. “I miss him terribly myself. He was on his way to my graduation when his plane crashed.”

The judge decided to change the subject. She turned to Aimee and said, “Ms. Porter, I am very happy to meet you.”

“Thank you, your honor,” Aimee replied.

The judge continued. “I am told that you two will be the witnesses for Jim and Mary’s solemn ceremony.”

Nods confirmed the judge’s assumption.

“Would you like for me to perform the ceremony in my office, or do you have a special place that you’d prefer?”

“I have a small banquet room reserved at the Hyatt,” I said. “It will just be the four of us at the ceremony, but we’d be honored if you stayed after the ceremony, since we will have a couple of friends arriving afterward. We’d be especially happy to have you celebrate with us, seeing how you are a friend of William’s.” I added that last part for the benefit of Debbie and Aimee.

My three co-wives nodded at my offer, which Judge McHenry seemed to notice with a surprised expression. “I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she said.

“Please at least stay and have dinner with us,” Mary offered. “The hotel is supposed to have an excellent chef.”

The judge looked at all four of us and said, “Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Montgomery, and Ms. Cadley. I will take you up on your offer.”

We made some small talk, and a little later, the judge excused herself to get some things from her office.

We waited outside the office as Aimee explained to the limo driver that we’d have a party of five to deliver to the Hyatt.

* * *

“My friends, we are gathered here to witness and to celebrate the coming together of two separate lives. We have come to join this man, James Montgomery, and this woman, Mary Cadley, in marriage, and to be with them in the making of this important commitment. The essence of this commitment is the taking of another person in his or her entirety, as lover, companion, and friend. It is therefore a decision which is not to be entered into lightly, but rather undertaken with the greatest consideration and respect for both the other person and oneself. Having made this decision, James and Mary may feel justly proud.

“James and Mary come now to be united in marriage.”

The judge indicated for us to approach her. We did.

“James repeat after me: I, James Montgomery, take you Mary, to be my lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forth, to love, honor, and cherish, to comfort and to respect, in sorrow or in joy, in hardship or in plenty, so long as we both shall live.”

I repeated the vow, and Judge McHenry had Mary repeat an identical vow.

“James and Mary wish to exchange rings as symbols of their vows.”

Aimee, our ring bearer, held out the ring I had picked out for Mary.

“James, as you place the ring on Mary’s hand, repeat after me: This is my beloved and this is my friend. With this ring I marry you and join my life with yours.”

I repeated as I was asked, and placed the ring on Mary’s hand. Mary’s beamed in adoration as I did so.

“Mary, as you place the ring on Jim’s hand, repeat after me: This is my beloved and this is my friend. With this ring I marry you and join my life with yours.”

Mary took my ring from Aimee, and repeated the vow as she placed the ring on my left hand.

The judge smiled. “Before their friends, Jim and Mary have pledged themselves to each other and have symbolized this by giving and receiving rings. By the authority vested in me by the State of California, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

I didn’t need to wait for permission to kiss my bride.

After we kissed, Debbie and Aimee kissed each of us separately.

I attempted to shake Judge McHenry’s hand, but she held her hand up.

“Miss Porter,” she said, looking at Aimee. “I was told that you might have some additional rings.”

Aimee nodded, unsurprised. There were four other rings that were platinum instead of gold, and were fitted to our right hands. I hadn’t been aware that the judge had known of them, and the other two women expressed surprise.

“Jim, I will ask you and your friends to repeat the ring vows with these rings. Since polygamy is not legal in this state or this country, I will not pronounce you married, except Jim to Mary. I will still allow you to make your solemn vows in my presence.”

I felt a wave of love and happiness emanate from Debbie, and I simply nodded at the judge.

“Mary, will you do us a favor and hold the four rings for now?”

Mary took the rings from Aimee.

“Jim, as you place the ring on Debbie’s hand, repeat after me: These are my beloved and these are my friends. With this ring I join my life with Debbie, Mary, and Aimee.”

I noticed the change in her wording from the marriage ceremony. I did so, and placed Debbie’s ring on her right hand.

The judge had Debbie repeat the vow, and Debbie placed my ring on my right hand.

Judge McHenry asked Mary to hand me the remaining two rings, and the judge repeated the procedure with Mary and Aimee exchanging rings and vows.

“Jim, Mary, Debbie, and Aimee, I wish to be the first to congratulate you on the love and devotion that you share with one another. As I have told Jim and Mary, I will not judge you on your choice in relationships, but I caution you all to be fair, loving, and understanding with each other. Every relationship requires a lot of work from every member of it, and I imagine that your unique relationship will require even more work. I pray that you have the wisdom, love, and spirituality to overcome the problems you may find ahead.”

It was now official. Mary was my wife, and the four of us had vowed to join our lives together, and these three wonderful lives were now inexorably intertwined with mine.

After the ceremony, Aimee walked out of the banquet room, and arranged for our meals. When she came back, she was accompanied by Mely and June, Debbie’s employees.

Mely and June kissed Mary and me in congratulations, and then we introduced them to Judge McHenry while Aimee handed out menus to everybody.

For entertainment, Aimee had managed to get CDs of the Original House Band from the Isle of the Goddess we visited in Chicago, and we listened to some great jazz and rock as we ate our meals. The first song, however, was from a special tape that had been sent from Chicago. As a wedding present, Aimee and Debbie had asked the owners of the Goddess clubs for a special recording that we could use as our first dance together.

There was some cheesy announcement about this song being our first dance. It was as if Oogie Woogie and his wife were in the room with us. We heard our names introduced as husband and wife for the first time, and then there was a segue as the band started playing.

Mary and I danced our first dance, “Happy Together,” and both our eyes had tears in them. As I had said before, I had always loved that song, but ever since it had been dedicated to Mary and me, I have always experienced an emotional response whenever I hear it to this very day.

Jim, also known as “Oogie Woogie,” was a master showman, as we had evidenced in Chicago. Despite the fact that he wasn’t there in person, it was a memorable occasion for us, and to top it off, we have that recording to listen to at any time we ever may want to do so in the future.

* * *

We spent a week in San Francisco, touring the sights with Mely and June accompanying us.

Afterward, we left the airport in Debbie’s private jet to depart to Hawaii. Aimee’s “little grass shack” was warm and inviting, and before we arrived, Aimee had arranged to have it swept to remove any bugs, and ensured that the caretaker made sure everything was fully stocked.

During our wedding party, Judge McHenry made an excellent suggestion for my wives to stop referring to themselves as such, but instead to call each other “sister,” which is a term that they actually sometimes had already used. I would refer to Mary as my wife freely because it was legally so. As I said before, I didn’t love any of the three any more than the others, so I started thinking of them as very close friends when describing them to outsiders.

Our plan was to spend a couple of months in Makena. It was as good a place as any to just relax and live, and it gave some structure into our lives.

Mary, the oldest of the three “sisters,” had stopped taking birth control as soon as we decided we would actually get married. It was supposed to take some time before she was ready to conceive, and Aimee arranged for her to see an Ob./Gyn. near the shack to ensure her equipment was in perfect working order and to give her advice on conception and other issues that she needed to know.

When coming back from her doctor’s appointment, Mary discovered she had a person following her. She told us when she arrived back at the shack, and the four of us considered possible options for dealing with the situation. The general consensus among the four of us was that we thought it would be a good idea to just lay low for the time being.

I accompanied Mary to the “little beach,” wearing a rather brief bathing suit. Mary saw the person that had been following her—she was resting on a blanket on the beach—and Mary mentally pointed that person out to me.

The person that Mary singled out was female and in her mid twenties. She was unusual in that she was one of the few bathers that were not topless on the nude beach, and she appeared just a little more apprehensive than most of the other people that were enjoying the sun. We pretended not to notice her. While moving about, setting up our blanket, I did get a good glimpse of her—she was short with long dark hair. She reminded me very much of Aimee—she had the same physical features which marked her as Polynesian and she was about as short—about five feet, one inch in size.

After the blanket was set up, Mary removed her top, giving me the opportunity to rub suntan lotion on her. I started first on her back, and used the lotion to give Mary a very relaxing back massage, an activity that Mary quite enjoys. I intentionally didn’t look toward the person who was supposedly watching us, and that took quite a lot of concentration on my part. Try not watching somebody that you think might be watching you some time!

I do not consider a public beach an appropriate venue for sexual relations, so I was on my best behavior. I did rub lotion on Mary’s breasts, but I did so quickly and while she was still on her stomach. Eventually, my massage put Mary to sleep. I laid next to her and luxuriated in the feeling of the sun baking on my back, wishing that Mary had reciprocated by rubbing some lotion on me.

I must have fallen asleep, because I was awakened when I felt Aimee rubbing lotion on my back. me. “I will love you forever, Master,” I felt Aimee think toward me when she realized I woke up. “I didn’t want you to burn.”

“Thank you, Precious,” I said aloud, but quietly. “I love you.” In her mind, I told Aimee that our follower was about thirty yards away in the direction of our feet.

“Have you probed her mind, yet?”

“Not yet. We’ve decided to wait a few days, remember?”

“That is a good idea.”

Aimee moved closer to me and kissed me on the cheek.

Debbie joined us soon after and dragged me into the ocean.

Once I was in the water, Debbie kissed me full on the lips, unlike Aimee’s more conservative kiss a few moments earlier. “I love you, brother in law!”

“Brother in law?”

“The husband of my sister.”

I laughed and kissed Debbie back.

The water was warm and enjoyable. Soon, we were joined by Mary and Aimee.

“Jim gives the best back rubs,” Mary said.

There weren’t too many people in the water, so I brought Debbie up to speed on the person that Mary had identified. As I did so, I felt Debbie’s hand probe inside my Speedos, encircling my cock. Debbie had a wicked grin on her face.

That was the extent of the sexual activity; as I said, I’m not one for public sex. We did splash around and we swam. Aimee and Mary also joined us and we all had some fun in the warm water.

I saw somebody swimming toward us and grinned when I realized it was June, Debbie’s driver, who was a marvelous swimmer.

When June arrived, I gave her a kiss on her cheek, as did the other girls. We discussed the wonderful weather, and the possibility of a thunderstorm the next day.

When I returned to our blanket, I noticed that the person that Mary had identified as our tracker had left. I wasn’t sure if this was normal behavior—if somebody was trying to watch us, wouldn’t that person stay around as long as we were on the beach?

I looked back to where Mary was, but she just shrugged at me.

I took my towel and started heading back toward the shack. As I did so, I noticed that the other girls, as well as June, were just getting out. I took the minute or so that I was alone to view June’s smallish breasts. Her nipples were erect from the coolness of the water evaporating on her bare skin, and they looked quite enticing. They weren’t as magnificent as Debbie’s, or as nicely proportioned as Mary’s, but they were very nice just the way they were.

As the four girls got closer to the blanket, I focused my attention on Mary. “Hello, sweetheart,” I said, giving her a kiss. “Have a good swim?”

“Of course,” Mary said, smiling.

June excused herself to run a few laps up and down the beach; I had noticed that June loved exercising outdoors.

Mary saw my eyes follow June’s body as she left and gave me a smile. “Are you heading back to the shack?”

“I think so,” I said, returning my attention to the other three girls. “I might want to get a head start on supper.”

“Steaks again?” Debbie asked, in mock protest.

“What would you have me make?” I asked.

Aimee smiled. “I prepared some lamb chops with some dry rub earlier. They would be perfect for the grill!”

“Lamb chops,” I said, rubbing my tummy. “Sounds wonderful!”

The four of us headed back to the shack.

When I got there, I checked on the hot tub, but we had only started it up earlier that day, and the temperature of the hot tub hadn’t reached its normal operating point yet.

I found Aimee’s baby lamb chops in the refrigerator where she had them marinating in a dry rub. I also saw a pitcher of Pina Coladas that either Debbie or Aimee had prepared earlier, along with a pitcher of some exotic fruit juice that Aimee usually drank. I poured myself a sixteen ounce glass of Pina Colada and headed out for the porch.

I was never a person that required or even wanted other people to wait on me hand and foot (unless a person really insisted on doing so), so I decided to get a head start on supper and preheated the grill.

As I waited for the grill, I took another sip of my drink. Normally, I don’t like drinks with coconut in them, but the Pina Colada tasted excellent. I looked back into the kitchen. Mary had just arrived, and was starting to prepare a salad. Debbie seemed to be slicing potatoes or onions as an accompaniment to our meal, and Aimee was preparing some snow pea pods, ready to place them into a pot of water for tenderizing.

I smiled; the four of us made a great team. Everybody was contributing to the meal.

After only about five minutes or so, I saw from the external thermometer that the grill had reached its desired temperature. I opened the grill and put on the chops, lowering the burners to medium-high now that it was fully preheated.

Debbie came outside, apparently to help me exercise. She did so by playing a game of tag with our tongues as she deeply kissed me. It was a fun game for me to lose.

A few minutes later, as Debbie was heading back inside, I noticed Mary pointing behind me where the grill was emitting a rather dark cloud of smoke, and I hurriedly opened the cover. The fat from the chops had created a rather intense flame, and with the barbecue tongs, I rearranged the chops away from the biggest flame. Aimee came outside with a spray bottle, and doused the conflagration for me.

“Thanks, Precious,” I said, giving Aimee a quick kiss on her cheek for her efforts.

Aimee gave me one of her million dollar smiles and put the spray bottle next to the grill. I watched her walk away, her fanny wiggling seductively as she went back into the kitchen.

I picked up the spray bottle and spritzed a bit on my hand and tasted it. It wasn’t just water, as I had originally thought. In it was either wine or some sort of vinegar. Looking through the translucent bottle, I could see bits of herbs floating in it as well. I laughed, as I realized that the spray was helping to season our chops as well. I took another big sip of my Pina Colada.

Isn’t it amazing when everybody clicks together like this?

When the chops were done the way I like them, I turned off the grill. At the same moment, Aimee came out with a cast aluminum platter that she had preheated in the oven, placing it on a table near the grill. The chops hissed as they hit the very hot platter. I was able to easily pick up the chops from the wooden base that the platter fit into, keeping my hands away from the very hot surface.

Back in the kitchen, I showed everybody the chops, which were still sizzling on the platter, getting favorable responses from my hungry companions. On the stove, I could see that Debbie had hash brown potatoes cooking. Aimee had made a gravy from some extra pieces of meat that she had trimmed from the meat she earlier rendered and used as a base for a gravy using red wine, mushrooms, thyme, and other herbs, all of which she eventually strained out to make a luscious brown gravy. Mary made a simple salad that consisted of iceberg lettuce hearts, with tiny cherry tomatoes and an orange colored salad dressing.

Debbie called June and Mely to come over to the main house for dinner.

The meal was excellent. I was feeling a warm buzz as I realized that the four of us had all chipped in and worked together and the resulting meal was probably better than if just one of us had done all the cooking. I felt like we had all participated together. It was like our marriage... everybody contributing to make something better than any one of us could do.

It was at that moment that I also realized that Aimee had already made a second batch of Pina Coladas, and that I had been refilling my glass every time I had come back into the kitchen, no matter how much I had previously drank from the glass beforehand. It occurred to me that my feelings of happiness might have been a bit influenced from the rum that was in those drinks.

Knowing that the buzzing that I was feeling wasn’t just the fact that my three women truly loved me, I decided that I had enough liquor for the evening. I excused myself to return to the kitchen. In the refrigerator, I discovered that Aimee’s other pitcher of juice was papaya, and that was my drink for the rest of the night.

After dinner, Mely, June, and I helped clean the dishes. We watched a movie on television, and then, as it was getting dark, I went upstairs alone to the Orchid bedroom, the name of the master bedroom. Out on the porch (“Lanai,” as Aimee called it) from this room, there were a few lounge chairs. I got on a lounge, and stared up into the starry night, feeling a mildly cool breeze against my skin.

It was one of the few times that I stared at the stars since I had been hit by Mary’s jeep. Unfortunately, it was either a new moon, or the moon had already set, but there were thousands of stars in the sky and I fell asleep studying the sky.

I awoke a few hours later, finding all three of my women out on the lanai with me, fast asleep as well. I smiled, wondering if they had been checking out the heavens the way that I had done.

I slowly crept out of my lounge, and Aimee, who was a light sleeper, woke up. “Good morning, Master,” she whispered.

“Good morning, Precious,” I answered, equally quiet. I didn’t want to disturb Debbie or Mary.

“I cannot allow you to go inside alone,” Aimee said. “Let me join you.”

“Certainly, Aimee,” I whispered back.

Aimee came into the room with me, but she quickly rushed out, surprising me. I heard her run into the attached bathroom and relieve herself, which made me giggle.

My beautiful Polynesian angel (that’s probably another mixed metaphor there) came back a few moments later, rolled into the bed and melted into my arms. “You must never sleep alone, Master,” Aimee said, sub-vocally.

“Why not?” I asked.

“We help keep the bad things away from you,” Aimee said.

I was still quite exhausted, and didn’t answer Aimee, or even ask her what she meant by that. For some reason, however, that statement stuck with me.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms. I cannot describe anything more perfect than having a woman that loves you completely in your arms as you fall asleep.

I had lovely dreams of the stars about Makena, as well as a moonlit sky with stars in San Diego. Was there any significance to my dreams? I didn’t know, and I didn’t care at the time. After all, I was only dreaming, wasn’t I?

* * *

When I awoke, Aimee and I were still hugging one another. I had barely remembered going to bed, and smiled. Aimee must have noticed my movement and awakened.

Aimee looked up at me, smiled, and said, “It’s a wonderful morning, Master!”

I rolled over so that Aimee was on top of me. We shifted our positions a bit until my cock was nestled alongside the slit of her love nest. I moved my hips up and down, knowing how much Aimee liked this activity of not-quite-fucking.

Aimee, in return, simply purred on top of me.

“It looks like at least Jim is awake,” I heard Mary say.

I turned toward the location of the voice, and saw both Mary and Debbie looking at the two of us.

“Good morning,” I said, not stopping my up and down motions against Aimee.

Mary bent down and kissed me, and then turned and kissed Aimee.

Aimee, in return, pushed up off of me. “I need to cook breakfast,” she said.

“Nonsense,” I answered, holding Aimee’s body against mine. “I’ll have cereal.”

“You have a baby to make,” Aimee said, only in my head. She pushed against my embrace, and then rolled off me completely.

I looked at Aimee, and she had a serious look in her eyes. I turned to look at Mary, and saw a longing in her eyes as she viewed my erection.

Realizing that Aimee was right (is she ever wrong?), I smiled at Mary, and she bent down and kissed me once more. I pulled her on top of me, and we rolled until I was on top of her.

The friction that I had experienced just moments before against Aimee’s pubic hair had gotten me hard. Now, with Mary underneath and Aimee’s reminder that I had a duty to perform, I found myself the surprised victim of performance anxiety. My cock was getting softer!

I looked over to where I last saw Debbie and Aimee, and the two girls were leaving the room.

A dead prick had never happened to me before!

At that moment, I felt Aimee’s mind enter mine. She just sent me a single thought and then left. She said, “Mary needs you to do your duty to her.”

I pulled Mary’s face up toward mine and kissed her full on the lips, and put all my concentration into how much I loved this wonderful woman. Mary kissed me back, and I finally found my organ responding. It’s difficult for me to describe how much I really love kissing. It’s about the most intimate experience that I can share with a woman—somehow, it’s even more intimate than sharing our minds together. I reached between her legs with my hand and started to rub her in the area where I knew that she was the most sensitive, and I felt her wetness in response.

After about fifteen minutes of fondling Mary, I changed position so that I could penetrate her. The two of us were still kissing, and I continued kissing her while pumping in and out of her for a while. I heard Mary moan beneath me, and I thrust harder, back and forth. When her moans increased, I felt something give within me, and my own orgasm started.

As I pumped my seed into her fertile womb, I felt Mary achieve a new high. Her legs clamped together, and her arms held my body close to hers in what almost seemed to be a death grip.

Due to Mary’s tenseness, my movements became almost slow motion. I continued to move slowly in and out, my semen still injecting into Mary, until I had no more to give.

I felt drained afterward, and quickly fell asleep on top of Mary. I don’t think Mary seemed to mind.

Debbie and Aimee didn’t sleep with me for the next week, always suggesting that Mary be the one to share my bed. I have no way to be exactly sure, but I’m willing to bet anything that this first time was the one in which she managed to conceive. I don’t think it was my best performance ever, but I think I really think this particular session was the one for Mary.

It was only after Mary’s condition was confirmed by her doctor that either Aimee or Debbie would allow me to once more shoot my seed anywhere except within Mary’s womb. The two were always extremely considerate of Mary’s need. There were times that I wished that they were as considerate of my own needs... but I knew that was just self-centered thinking.

* * *

Having finally seen the woman that was following us, it was pretty easy for me to notice her every so often. I’d pass her on the street, or I’d see her on the beach now and then. I never gave her any sort of recognition, and I only made the briefest of probes into her mind, which told me that her name was Patricia and that she thought that she had been stealthy enough to evade our notice.

This woman fit in. After Aimee had the opportunity to look at her, she confirmed to me that Patricia appeared to be a full-blooded Hawaiian, unlike Aimee, who had a touch of French Polynesian in her heritage—the differences were too subtle for me to understand. Patricia naturally looked like she belonged in the tropics where we were staying.

I thought the investigator’s name to be an odd coincidence, since Aimee had used that name in Washington a few weeks ago as an alias. Aimee assured me that it was truly a coincidence; unless the girl had been hired by William Voder, we were pretty sure that our time in Washington had gone unnoticed by the people following us.

If Patricia thought that she would ever evade my notice, then she was completely wrong. She was extremely gorgeous to my eyes. She had long, dark brown hair that, like Aimee’s, went down to the middle of her back. However, unlike Aimee’s, Patricia’s hair was fuller and wavy on the top. Like Aimee, Patricia had warm brown eyes that anybody could easily get lost in. Her breasts were much larger and rounder than Aimee’s, but she couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds total. Her lips were thick and red, and seemed to be very sensuous. On the other hand, those lips looked like they were forever sealed into a pout—one of the few things about her about which I disapproved.

If you notice that I was comparing Patricia to Aimee, it’s mostly because the two women were very similar, and the similarity wasn’t just racial. Patricia, however, had that pout that was so unlike Aimee’s warm smile that she normally wore. In addition, Patricia also lacked that “something extra” that I can’t describe that made Aimee so very dear to me.

I noticed that Patricia always had a thin silver bracelet that she wore high on her arm, about halfway to her elbow. She liked wearing heels, which made her appear to be taller than Aimee when I saw her when she wasn’t on the beach. The heels also gave firm definition to Patricia’s legs, a feature that I quite liked.

This woman could easily be a model for any of the top designers and could probably earn millions of dollars doing so. I wondered why she chose her particular line of work.

Mary, Debbie, and even Aimee all seemed taken by the exotic beauty of Patricia, and I spent a few idle thoughts wondering what it would be like to cuddle up to her at night.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I was definitely not hurting for female companionship. Still, I couldn’t help but think of Patricia’s beautiful countenance presented in front of me on her knees in supplication, as Aimee loved doing. It was just an idle fantasy, though. I had been serious when I told William Voder that I had no intention of adding to my “harem.” People like Patricia or like June, with her wholesome good looks, and Patricia, with her exotic beauty, would be very safe from the likes of me.

After a few days, I took the opportunity to hold a “family conference” in and around the hot tub where we hoped the noise from the jets of water would impede any listening devices that may have evaded detection. The four of us undressed and three of us entered the pool. Mary just sat at the edge of the tub with just her feet dangling in the water; she had been advised against using the whirlpool or sauna if she was pregnant, and we didn’t want to unnecessarily expose her to any risk.

I made a suggestion to Aimee that she try to make contact with this Patricia and see what happens. During some pillow talk with Mary, she had suggested that if Aimee did so, Patricia would either try to avoid Aimee, worried that her real intentions would be discovered, or that she would try to use Aimee to get closer to the rest of us. What Patricia did, suggested Mary, would reveal the nature of the surveillance that she was performing. All four of seemed to agree with this reasoning at this family conference, but at the last minute, Mary changed her mind, and cautioned against this action, saying that we had too much to lose in trying to make contact. We were surprised by Mary’s turnaround, but we all decided to accept Mary’s analysis for the time being.

After about fifteen minutes in the hot tub, I got out and pulled Mary up by her hand, and we walked together into the swimming pool. Together, Mary and I swam a few laps before we found ourselves joined by Debbie and Aimee. We gathered at the deep end of the pool and pulled ourselves into a gigantic four-way hug and cuddle.

Mary’s trip to the Ob./Gyn. would be in a couple of days. All four of us were hoping that Mary had caught, but if she hadn’t, she would have exclusive use of my semen, day and night, for the next four weeks until her next fertile period. I was pretty confidant that Mary was indeed pregnant, a feeling that I had shared with Aimee. I told Mary that I would accompany her to the doctor’s office for luck.

* * *

On Friday morning, the doctor gave Mary and I the good news. The blood test was positive; Mary was indeed pregnant. The doctor made sure that the two of us were prepared for her condition. Mary, who had never given birth before, was in her late thirties. Although there were some risks due to Mary’s age, the doctor pointed out that because Mary was in perfect health and kept herself in excellent shape, her risk of complications were not as high as it could be for other women her age. Even so, Mary was told that she should still avoid high-risk behaviors like tobacco and alcohol. This was easy; none of our family smoked, and Mary never drank much.

We thanked the doctor, and when we exited into the waiting room, Mary’s condition was obvious even to the most obtuse person in the room merely by her positive glow. When we got home, we gave the good news to Debbie and Aimee, who both congratulated their “sister.” I suggested that celebrate by taking a trip north.

We had lunch in Kihei, a city that had some decent restaurants, and we all ate some great seafood. Mary was positively bubbling over in her excitement, and the other two girls were now making all sorts of plans, including adding a nursery room to the shack and offering to help Mary pick out maternity clothes (which I thought was grossly premature, since Mary wasn’t showing at all!).

Mary quietly informed us that we were being followed, and this time, Patricia seemed to have an escort with her. We made it clear to anyone and everyone who listened that we were celebrating Mary’s pregnancy, and while Debbie and Aimee drank margaritas, Mary and I were drinking only fruit punches. We got many congratulations from the staff at the restaurant, as well as tourists that had been eating at the restaurant.

Aimee talked with our server, asking where we could find some excellent night life, and the server without hesitation told us that the only real place nearby that had night clubs and the like was Lahaina, which was about fifteen miles further north. We decided that would be our destination for the night, and Aimee excused herself to make some phone calls to arrange for accommodations and entertainment for the evening.

Aimee came back to the table. “I managed to get a great deal on a vacation condo in Lahaina,” she announced.

“How long do we have it?” I asked.

“A week, but we could probably extend it if we wanted to do so.”

I looked at the three girls, who were looking at me. I knew how much the shack meant to Aimee, so I said, “Let’s just spend a couple of nights in Lahaina. I’ve never been there and it might be nice, but it would be nice to get back to the shack. After all, it’s our home.”

I could see from the smiles on everybody’s faces that I had made an excellent decision. I moved over and kissed Mary full on the lips, and while I did so, I quickly stole a piece of her Mahi-Mahi.

“Hey!” Mary yelled in mock protest. “That’s mine!”

“You can have some of my steak,” I offered.

“Mary is eating for two, you know,” Debbie pointed out.

Mary just made a face; she didn’t mind eating steak, but her real passion in eating was seafood, followed closely by chocolate—she was as much addicted to chocolate as Aimee was.

“Do you have any ideas for a name, Mary?” Debbie asked.

When Mary had first told me that she wanted a baby, I had told her that I had no problems if she or any of the girls did so. I would leave naming to the person that was actually carrying the baby, being that she would be doing most of the hard work.

Mary shrugged. “I was thinking of a name a little less plain than either Jim or Mary.”

“Like what?” Debbie pressed.

“I don’t know,” Mary admitted. “I have a few months to decide. Do you have any suggestions?”

Debbie shrugged. “If it were mine and it was a boy, I’d name him James, after my father and my brother in law. If it’s a girl, I’d name her Mary, after my oldest sister.”

Mary nodded. “I thought you’d want the name James. What do you think of Benjamin? When I was growing up, Benjamin Franklin was a hero of mine.”

“That’s a nice name, Mary,” Aimee said, smiling. The rest of us agreed.

“I haven’t decided on a name for a girl, though,” Mary said.

I dutifully kept out of this particular conversation. I kept on thinking of the name “Mata Hari.”

The waiter came out of the kitchen with a couple of other staff members. He was carrying a piece of chocolate cake with a list candle on it. He and the staff sang an impromptu version of “Happy Future Birthday To You” to Mary and me.

“Did you arrange this?” Mary asked me.

I shook my head and looked at the other two girls. Neither one admitted doing so.

The server answered Mary. “I overheard you talking about your little one. This is from the manager.”

We thanked the server and the manager, who was standing near the kitchen watching the scene with a smile on his face.

“Chocolate,” Mary said, smacking her lips. “My favorite!”

* * *

It took twenty minutes to reach Lahaina, and another ten before Aimee found the vacation condo. We pulled into the rental office and Aimee went in to take care of the paperwork.

Another ten minutes later, Aimee came back with four sets of keys in her hand. The beach was only a three minute walk away, and there was a lovely footpath that we could use for jogging in the morning.

We unpacked our bags, and put on bathing suits.

“It will be strange to see you in a bikini top,” I teased Mary.

Mary shrugged.

“I can’t wait for those to fill up a bit,” I continued needling my pregnant wife, caressing one of her breasts.

“They’ll probably start to sag,” Mary said, shrugging.

Debbie’s voice came from the doorway. “Not if you do the proper exercises.”

“Really?” Mary said.

“Really,” Debbie insisted. “I used to have a problem with these,” she said, hefting her breasts under her hands. “I had an aerobics instructor show me some good things to help firm up the muscles there. I’ll be happy to teach you.”

“I’ll be happy to massage you every day,” I offered.

Mary laughed at my offer. “You may regret making that offer, Jim!”

I shook my head. “It would be my honor, dear wife.”

I gave Mary a brief kiss on the cheek, and moved out of the room on the way to the bathroom. Passing Debbie, I kissed her briefly as well.

The one limitation to this “luxury condo” was that it only had a single bathroom, and Aimee was using it. This would just never do for a guy living with three women.

As nice as the condo seemed, I realized that getting back home to Makena would be a great idea.

That night, Aimee had made reservations for a luau on a place that specialized in them on Front Street.

When we arrived, we were greeted with beautiful leis, and led to a seating area in front of the stage on cushions on the grass. The person seating us announced that they now had a liquor license, but we all decided to drink non-alcoholic drinks, mostly in deference to Mary, who had been advised to avoid alcohol during her pregnancy.

The evening was very educational, and the food was exceptional. I had never known that hula dancing is an ancient Polynesian way of telling stories. The presentation was wonderful with native men and beautiful dancers, and the various movements they did were explained as they were demonstrated.

When they asked for volunteers from the audience, both Debbie and Aimee went up. Aimee looked like she had done the hula before, and her motions were very fluid and authentic. Debbie, with her killer body, maybe wasn’t as authentic, but the way she moved her body evoked raw unadulterated sensuousness that was noticed by every breathing person at the feast. Only the dead pig on a platter didn’t react to Debbie’s movements.

All in all, it was a most enjoyable evening.

Back at the vacation condo, the four of us retired together in our king-sized bed, exhausted and sated.

We spent the entire weekend in Lahaina before returning to the shack in Makena.