We made love in a wild and crazy way all of which proved on a spiritual level to be a very disappointing experience. She was divine to look at, to touch, but was lacking in the pure passion of her mother. Sam had a style and her reactions to my caresses pleased me as much as they pleased her. Vicky was wild in bed; our passion was like a super physical contact sport, all commotion, no connection. Any spark beyond the purely physical act didn’t exist. She was telling me how much she loved me, and I was thinking how much I’d enjoyed the bright morning making love, yes, making love to her mother.
Then it struck me like a thunderbolt! The reason we have sex in her mother’s bed wasn’t because of devilment, it was because it gave me a sense of lying with and pleasuring her mother. I was already imagining making love to her mother while fucking her!
Lying together in the bed we were discussing the day. Just things in general like the news, the latest fashions, music and so on. I also realised during our conversation I had very little in common with her. We were poles apart on everything, and we operated on a totally different wavelength. I might have started my relationship with her because of sexual beauty, but I definitely knew why I was with her now. I wanted her mother!
Thankfully time was passing, and soon the lovely Sam and her husband Mike would return. For some reason though Mike was much older than me we were mates. This friendship came with a price. I was shagging his wife! They would be back in a few minutes, so thankfully we had to get out of bed and drag combs through our tangled bed hair. I was a pretty jaded sod for somebody who’d been a virgin just a few short hours before.
The one thing I didn’t want to look when Sam returned with Mike was shagged out. I didn’t want Sam to suspect at any level that minutes before I’d been fucking her daughter. It was obvious she knew I was Vicky’s lover, but I didn’t want to shout the fact in her face. Today I didn’t know what ground I was standing on, so I had to play it safe, though I don’t think I’d been playing safe ever since I woke up bathed in hot bright sunlight.
In fact I didn’t want reminding too much of the last hour. Beautiful as Vicky was I didn’t want to sleep with her. It was her mother that intrigued me, she just set something off inside me, and not something you could put a finger on, a special connection. As I saw Samantha climbing out of the big Ford I knew our connection was on a different level and I also knew I was in more trouble than I imagined. How little I knew about myself and trouble? I hadn’t even approached the outskirts of the City of Trouble yet!
I was uneasy meeting Mike and Samantha together, especially with Vicky clutching my arm. I knew the other me who arrived very drunk at this house last night was quite a different person to the boy who went to The Cauldron, because it was obvious this situation had been going on for some while. I’d been quite happy keeping whole thing bubbling along nicely, like some maniacal sex chef cooking the absolute perfect, if somewhat seedy, soufflé.
Talking of cooking, I was trying to make my escape through the back of the house by going out through the kitchen. My misfortune continued when the loving couple who’d been shopping came in through the back to access the utility room and the freezers. So there we were face-to-face, the last thing I wanted.
Sam didn’t bat an eyelash. She just said hello like it was the most natural thing in the world and hadn’t seen me for an age. In fact it was almost like this morning hadn’t happened, until she rubbed past me to get to the refrigerator. It was just the smallest of touches on my bottom, very subtle, very quick and unseen. This morning had happened, it wasn’t some strange figment in my broken head, and I wondered how many mornings a week I tested the luxury double bed?
Sam was in the process of telling Mike how brilliant I thought the new kitchen was. I was looking around the kitchen. It was very new but then the entire house looked new. She continued in this vein pointing to the new breakfast island.
“I particularly like that feature,” Sam said, subtly smiling at me,
I’d spent time in the kitchen with Samantha cooking the soufflé. It was starting to look that I spent time with Samantha in every dammed room in the house, and God knows where else. I really did have to make my excuses, get out of there and find out who I’d become, a worrying prospect.
The phrase worrying prospect really doesn’t do it justice. By this time I knew I’d got involved with “wrong uns” as my brother called them, and cultivated involvement in a sex triangle which I hoped nobody else knew about. What else?
Quick excuse time was looming up again and I might have to demonstrate my skill behind the wheel if I couldn’t think of an excuse why the car hadn’t been picked up. I could tell them that the garage said there was no real problem. My first problem was I didn’t even know where the key fitted!
I was just starting to make all the right noises, making the excuses, “I got to go here, I’ve got to do this, that, the other”, when I was taken by surprise.
“Do you want a drink, Peter?” Mike said. I was mid-flow when Mike winked at me.
“I know what you like,” he said, with a conspiratorial wink.
I was totally baffled as to what he meant. Was he talking about drink? Does he know what I’ve been doing with his daughter in the last hour? I doubt it. What was it then?
Mike appeared from somewhere in the utility room with two bottles of cold Carlsberg special brew. I looked at Mike thinking of excuses.
“No thanks. Had this stinker of a bloody hangover all day,” I said.
“It got you on the sun lounger last night. I thought you might be up for another session.” Mike said this quite cheerfully as if I was always up for a session.
“Sorry about last night. I overdid it a little bit,” I said.
“Don’t you always? You’re the party boy up for anything, we all know that,” he said. He winked at me once more.
“Not tonight, Mike, thanks, I’ve got stuff to do, places to go, people to see, and am so dammed tired,” I wasn’t lying.
“You never stop moving about do you, but tired?” he said. Mike gave me a look. Perhaps he knew something, or from the way he was intimate with me perhaps I was involved in a sex square!
And with that spine chilling thought I didn’t stop moving, made all the right excuses, or any old excuses for that matter, and escaped to the car. Vicky followed in close attendance.
“I thought were going out tonight, or was it just the sex?” Vicky enquired.
“No, no, no, not just sex. I’m damned tired and need to rest for at least one night,”
Vicky seemed disappointed and was almost sulky like a young child. She’d gone from bright and bubbly to a morose and surly five-year-old literally in a second. It was like somebody flicking a switch. Like a child being told halfway through a game, “It’s time for bed”.
Quite frankly I wasn’t in the mood for a bipolar black-and-white girlfriend. By this time in the evening, of what had been a long day, I’d had enough of the endless shit and was quite glad to challenge myself by attempting to drive the car. I suppose it was rude. I literally slammed the door in her face without even the words, “I’m off” or “see you tomorrow”.
I was in deep concentration. Operating the car was a challenge and could become a challenge that other motorists didn’t need. I was taking to the highway with no idea apart from what I learnt on the farm driving the Land Rover, but it was obvious I had a licence and insurance. Or did I? I had no idea!
I started the car and selected a gear. It moved, forwards. Another gear and it moved forwards. I was trying to go backwards. Concentrating, I looked at the little logo at the bottom of the gear stick. Towards me and back, that should do it. Slowly and not too jerkily for a first timer I made my way out of the drive backwards, narrowly avoiding two parked cars on the other side of the road. Vicky looked on with a surly glare. The thunderous expression on her face suggested that she wouldn’t care if I died in a terrible collision. Perhaps it’s the impression I got. Somehow I think not. The other me must have looked at her in quite a different wa
y, or handled her differently to keep her sweet while keeping her mother sweating.
As I pulled off forwards I glanced towards the house. Quite a large modern built mini mansion on the best housing estate, such a grand style without any real grand style. How did I know these people? I’ll be honest, today had been tragic losing my father. Traumatic, strange, disturbing and, on a sexual level, I was like a cat with the cream.
I drove like a septuagenarian for the mile and a quarter through the estate to my apartment. To my great joy working at the car’s controls was a trouble-free run with very light traffic. What amazed me was my ability to drive somewhat better than I remembered from the farm. What other tricks had I learnt, what else could I do?
In a short distance I transformed from novice driver to not bad. Arriving at my apartment I parked in one of the bays. It would be the wrong bay of course. I would learn this in a matter of seconds without any interference from the usual helpful neighbour. Walking past the other bays I noticed they had small number plates which reflected the registrations of the appropriate cars. Mine, of course, had to be moved, but I was too damned tired to be bothered.
Blue was my colour, so I wasn’t surprised when I reach the door a flat 35. The experience was very strange, almost like burglary. I pushed a strange key, the fifth one I’d tried, into the lock on the blue door. As I turned it the key met no resistance. The door opened.
So this was my apartment. I didn’t rent this I owned this! Going inside I found the switch and turned on the light. It was all beautifully designed with a large kitchen diner, a large lounge for an apartment and two double bedrooms one of which had an en suite bathroom. A very nice apartment, I thought. The furnishings were all the full early 70s style, everything was nearly new, nothing was cheap, and all from the top end of the market. This classy place was mine. This raised the question of how did I pay for it?
I found the bedroom and threw myself onto the bed. I would start to sort everything out in the morning, but first I had to have a good night’s sleep. The light went out and in an instant so did I.
It would be ten glorious hours of sleep, and I would awaken refreshed.
Who knows, all my memories may return in the night.
Chapter 11 – Right here right now, or at least I think it is when I concentrate.
The days of therapy were becoming shorter and shorter. The days themselves were not getting shorter, but the time I spent awake was only for eating and drinking. Apart from that I was in and out of sleep for up to eighteen hours each day. Even when awake I was crippled by an all-enveloping tiredness which demanded every action was an act of will, a monumental effort. I was so tired inside it was very difficult to even think. Each day became a blur almost beyond the point where I could remember specific incidents with any clarity.
The nights, however, when I was fortunate enough to visit the other reality, had a clarity that remained in the mind with the force of memory only experienced when you are truly moved by a great work of art, or have witnessed some major event in history. These experiences transcended the tiredness of the fatigued daytimes, and I could relive all the vivid sensations etched permanently in my otherwise addled mind.
As the weeks passed I always seem to be waiting for a doctor or a nurse. I’ve spent a lot of time this year sitting in corridors interminably waiting for doors to open and not, I hoped, to close forever. You always seemed to be waiting patiently for one consultant or another.
This drudgery of day-to-day exhausted existence became the dream state, the state of semi-alive. My head was losing more hair every time it touched the pillow. I wasn’t waiting for the earthly dawn to come. The deep yearning inside me was for a bright dawn, not in the here and now, but in the iridescent other world that had for me replaced what people insist on calling reality.
I now can’t remember how many days had passed since my last visit to the other universe. I could do nothing because I was at the other universes beck and call. Thankfully as sleep folded around me I was taken there and discovered a little more. I became more curious… more enveloped.
So it was the same thing once again. The timeless railway station appeared with the cross little stationmaster holding his fantastical flag. My clothes were from the same period, my senses alive and on fire. Once again I could feel the approaching train slowing towards the station. The stationmaster, I noticed, never seemed to wave his flag in any other manner than frantic. How the train driver (though I’d never seen one) knew what his intentions were was a mystery. Despite this vagueness of flag etiquette the train screeched and groaned to a steamy halt. A final hiss of strangely aromatic steam and all was quiet, and to my delight she was there. Then she wasn’t there!
A large number of beautiful butterflies of amazing variety and colour were flying straight past my face, some even brushing my nose, others weaving between my arms and legs like a cloud of coloured light passing by. This just added to my joy. I’d been distracted by the butterflies intentionally I think. Where was Jennifer?
She stood up. She had been down behind the door bending to pick up something, and then for the first time she turned the handle, opened the door and stepped elegantly from the train. She was very light on her feet and walked straight towards me stopping only three or four feet away. She was very close. She was a vision. Jennifer was quite petite, not tiny, but very girlish. Not a woman or I didn’t think so at the time, her age being hard to guess. It was hard to drag my eyes away from her lustrous shiny hair glistening with rainbow colours highlighted in the sunlight. Her eyes with their magnetic quality and dark beauty begged me to stare into them. And those lips, oh those lips with that most wondrous smile! I was totally captivated.
Her clothes were the most curious thing about her appearance. They appeared to be some form of school uniform in a style I’d never seen before. It was as if she was wearing a business suit that also conveyed the feeling of school uniform. In one hand she held a very large, slightly battered brown briefcase. I wanted to ask, “What are we going to do today?” hoping the answer would be something exciting, something like exploring more of this wondrous parallel universe, anything that would allow me to spend time with her, though I didn’t know what I was expecting. Instead I dug deep into the strangest corner of my mind asking a question that even now seems a little bit odd.
“Why are you carrying a briefcase?” That’s all I could come up with. Idiot!
Her reply was odder than my question. “Because I’m a schoolgirl,” she said. I thought she looked a little bit too old to be a schoolgirl.
“Aren’t you too old for school?” And it just came out of my mouth like an idiot stream of words. I was embarrassed by my stupid reaction. This wasn’t my world, and I knew nothing of its ways.
Jennifer looked herself up and down and smiled back at me.
“I didn’t mean to be insulting,” I blurted out. She just laughed.
Jennifer told me she was indeed a schoolgirl, and twenty- five-years old! I exclaimed some shock at this quite extraordinary age to be at school. She told me that you stayed at school until you understood the truths you were seeking, and then you passed the knowledge on to somebody else. The people receiving your insights would attempt to pass their final insights back to you. If all the parties understood the knowledge they’d received they were no longer at school and free to move in a world of tolerance.
“You’re a student as well. Those clothes are your uniform,” she said.
“I’m a student?” I said, echoing her words.
“Yes, you’re a student and your subject is to know yourself. My subject is to teach you. Once you know yourself and I know you understand, I do not have to continue with my studies and neither do you. Then I will be a woman. My world will change a little bit, or a lot,” she said.
The next moments were a joyful surprise. She stepped forwards and placed both of her hands in mine. She then pointed her exquisite face up at mine and indicated almost by telepathy that I must kiss her. I had to bend
my neck down a little to do this. The first touch of our lips could only be described one way: as soft electric. They were blissfully wonderful with a power that shocked me, delighted me and captured me. She was kissing me with an earnest soft passion for what seemed an age. At the end our lips drifted slowly apart, pulling away from each other very, very slowly.
“I’m going now. I will see you tomorrow, then I will open this case and you will see your first lesson,” she said.
“Can I take a peek at it now?” I asked. I was becoming curious. I was captured.
“Paul (I couldn’t get used to this name. I was expecting the stress on the P to become Peter), tomorrow is the day we start to exchange knowledge and experiences, not today,” she said with a little hint in the upturned corner of her mouth of more than just a smile.
I was looking at that little hint of more than a smile when, with a sudden move, she turned and walked away, climbed onto the train, closed the door and blew me a kiss. This kiss wasn’t the power of the real thing but it managed to caress my lips, a captivating experience. Jennifer indicated to the stationmaster it was time for the train to leave.
I was full of blissful joy and already looking forward to my education, whatever form that may take. It was just as the previous visits. I was full of joy which diminished only a slight amount as the train pulled away from the station, disappearing in a cloud of its own steam swirling in the light fragrant breeze. It then rumbled off around the curve and she disappeared, but not the sense of her.
Will I be taken someplace beyond this station? I didn’t mind being on the station. It would, be nice in the future, to explore some of this new experience and be somewhere else in this amazing somewhere else.
I remained on the station for quite a time, not leaving the scene for several minutes. I took it all in, every single part of that beauty. I was at the centre of a little universe standing in clouds of butterflies and birds, tiny colourful birds, with their vibrating wings tickling my face as they whirled around me in a tornado of colour… I awoke to bright sunshine beaming in through the windows of my bedroom. The transition from the other dimension to the now, the so-called real world, was almost seamless as the bright sunshine appeared to coalesce out of that cloud of bright birds.
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