by Kelly Utt
We stop at a kiosk and pick up a movie on disc for the ride down to South Lake Tahoe. The ride isn’t much more than an hour, and the boys stay occupied with the movie the whole time. We don’t usually watch movies in the Tesla, so this must feel especially festive to them. I drive so Ali can grab a power nap on the way. I’m feeling tired from having been on guard all morning at the airports, but I’m beginning to relax now. The Sierra Nevada mountains are stunning. I’ve always loved nature and these mountains feel wise and alive. They’re actually helping me calm down and clear my head.
The odyssey connection dawns on me somewhere around Carson City, Nevada. I wonder if it’s a coincidence that I’m driving my family around in an Odyssey, what with Dr. Epstein’s place being called the Odyssey Psychology Center and the fact that I lived with my family before in Ancient Ithaca, Greece. Just like Homer, who penned the Iliad and the Odyssey. Honda Odyssey minivans are quite common, of course, but it kind of feels like a sign. Although, I also think about how our two vehicles traveling together remind me of the Transformers following Optimus Prime. I’m a sucker for those types of movies where everyone works together to take care of each other and keep each other safe. I’m a typical boy, I swear. And it’s true what they say about how boys grow up and the only thing that changes is the size of their toys.
6
The Flesh
When we arrive at the lake house, it’s mid-afternoon. We’re tired and it feels later to us, but there’s still plenty of day left to enjoy.
The house is stunning. I think it’s nicer than our own home. The booking agent told us it had been featured on the South Tahoe Garden Tour, but I didn’t realize it would be so gorgeous in person. It’s probably best described as an estate rather than a house, truth be told. The property is surrounded by national forest on three sides. The place ought to be nice since the nightly rental rate is more than most people pay each month for their mortgage. Hell, the nightly rate is more than most people probably pay each quarter for their mortgage. I feel a pang of guilt for spending so much and I think about what Mom would say if she were here. Ali and I are splitting the cost with her parents and my Uncle Liam though, so it isn’t nearly as much when divided by three. I tell myself to relax and enjoy, just like Liam told me to do when I called him the night we moved into our new house in Ithaca.
As we turn into the driveway, we’re greeted by two pillars made of round stones which sit at the edge of the property and hold large lanterns on top. The house number is affixed to one of the larger stones and perky red flowers cover the ground below. Tall evergreen trees stand proudly behind the pillars and line the driveway leading down a slight hill to the house. A three-car garage sits closest to the road with ample room for parking out front. The four-story house sits just past the garage and boasts sweeping, long-range views of the sparkling lake and surrounding mountains. I can tell already that this is a fantastic party house. We might just have to take advantage of that fact and do a little partying during our stay here. We park in front of the garage doors and get out to take a look around before we unload luggage. Our excitement is palpable. The boys are giggling and talking excitedly. The adults aren’t saying as much, but we’re just as stoked about our digs for the next few weeks.
I use the keypad affixed to the door handle to open the compartment and retrieve the house key, then I carefully slide it into the lock and turn. There’s an alarm system, thank goodness. I nod at Liam and Roddy when we hear it beep as we enter the property. It’s a relief to know that the system is functional. It makes an ascending alert sound until I use the instructions provided by our rental agent to disarm it. I plan to get in touch with the monitoring company once the family is settled and request that they change all of the codes, to be extra safe. The rental agent knows about our history and assures me I’d be able to adjust the alarm system to meet our needs. I wouldn’t have felt comfortable bringing my family here if she hadn’t been willing to accommodate that request.
When we walk inside the house, we’re immediately impressed by the huge stone fireplace and floor to ceiling windows in the main living area. The view of the lake out the windows is breathtakingly beautiful. Every single one of us oohs and ahhs at the sight of it. It looks so clear and clean. I’m pretty sure we can see all the way to the bottom, even from way up here in this house on the side of a hill. We’re used to the water back East in Ithaca, D.C., and New York City, which is often murky. The lakes and rivers back home look blue in certain light, but other times they look downright brown and nasty. I get the idea that Lake Tahoe looks blue in any light.
Ethan and Leo plop down on one of the leather couches in the living room and hug each other to celebrate, then hop back up just as quickly to continue looking around. Liam is carrying Will on his hip and the little guy is smiling and babbling up a storm as they go. He can feel the excitement from the rest of us.
There’s a view of the lake from almost every room. We’ll be able to enjoy the view when we wake up in the morning, as we eat together at one of the two big wooden dining tables, and on either of the two back decks. This house is sort of a Tahoe version of our own when it comes right down to it. The decor is a little bigger scale, but the inside of the place is a similar size, similar layout, and a similar level of finishing as our own. Of course, outdoors, this place has more stone accents, taller trees, and a crystal clear lake to enjoy. That makes it all brand new.
We split up to check out the bedrooms. Will continues on with Liam while his big brothers take a tour of the upper level with their grandparents and Ali and I sneak away to survey the master bedroom.
Our bedroom is amazing. The pictures we saw online don’t begin to do it justice. A built-in stone bench extends from the fireplace and wraps all the way around two walls underneath the windows. I’ll be making love to my wife on this stone wall, I can tell you that much right now. Alessandra’s body is enticing in any setting, but it’s a special thrill to feast upon her in a new and unfamiliar place. I can’t wait to get started. The king-size bed has four thick, sturdy posts at each corner. Those will be perfect for holding onto while I pump and thrust inside of my wife. My mind can visualize the scene quickly and easily. I see Ali standing next to one of the bedposts, completely naked from head to toe. Her golden, wavy hair dancing around her supple breasts and reflecting the light from outside. Her long, elegant arms and legs wrapping around the post seductively, hiding her entry point from my view in an effort to save the best for last. I can almost taste her now. I can’t help myself.
Ali can tell what I’m thinking. She knows me so well. We have a long history together. I’m convinced there’s some kind of synchronicity between our bodies. When one of us wants the other, we both feel it. Energized from her nap in the van, my wife smiles seductively at me while biting her bottom lip. Now I’m done, for sure. Ali knows it brings to my knees when I see her bite her lip like that. She’s toying with me. My organ is tight and threatening to burst right out of my twill shorts. It feels so hard, so ready to be inside of my love that it seems like it might spill just looking at her. And she’s still fully dressed.
There’s no way I can wait another minute. I walk quickly to the bedroom door and close, then lock it securely. I know Ali doesn’t want the others knowing about our sex life, but I don’t care right now. I must have her.
“Is there something I can help you with, Dr. Hartmann?” my wife asks in a low purr as she uses two hands to pull her blouse and bra off over her head in one swift motion.
“You know what I want,” I say while walking towards her.
“Oh? Do I?” she teases, placing her hands in the waistband of her skirt then shimmying out of it.
Her muscular body looks like perfection as it’s exposed inch by inch. She leaves her panties on intentionally. She knows that drives me wild once I’m already excited. Unable to speak, I let out a guttural sound as her mouth covers mine and we kiss each other deeply. I tear at my own belt buckle and let my manhood out into the daylig
ht. It’s standing up high, urgently ready to feel the warm, wet center of my wife. I grab her gently, yet firmly as I drop my shorts and boxers to the floor then pull her white lace panties hungrily from between her legs. We walk towards the stone bench as we continue to kiss, already intertwined. I take my shirt off and sit down with my back to the lake. She knows what to do next. We’re in sync with every movement. She climbs on top, straddling her exquisite legs around me as she slides down gracefully, taking me deep within her. I wrap my arms around her firm buttocks and place my fingers lightly along the edges where we meet. She straightens her back, lifting up in front of me so I have a chance to look at her as she wriggles with pleasure. She knows how much I love to watch her body respond when I take her to a place of pure ecstasy. She moves up and down around me, gripping me tightly as she goes. I lean forward and bury my head between her breasts as she grinds, smelling her sweet, intoxicating smell. It doesn’t take me long. I hold as far as I can until my entire body feels like it’s about to explode. She comes to the same point at the same time, grinding harder and faster until she can no longer hold back her telltale moans of pleasure. When I hear those blessed moans, I allow myself to release in a wave of goodness that spurts upwards into her deepest nooks and crannies. We grip and pull at each other until the tension recedes and she flops her head down onto my chest, exhilarated.
“Well, Georgie,” Ali begins. “That was fast. We’ve been in the vacation rental, what? Fifteen minutes now?”
“Something like that,” I say as I stroke her back lovingly. She’s still sitting on me. I’m still inside of her.
“You’re insatiable,” she says, playfully.
“Hey,” I reply. “I don’t see you complaining one bit.”
“You’re right,” she says. “No complaints here. I wonder if the others will know what we’re doing though.”
“And so what if they do?” I ask.
“I understand,” she says. “But let’s go on and get dressed so we can help unload and get the boys settled in. I don’t want to get too spoiled with Mom and Dad’s help. They may need some downtime themselves.”
“Come on, now,” I tease. “Can’t I look at your beautiful body a little while longer? It dresses up the place, you know?”
“Oh, Georgie,” she says, laughing.
“Alright,” I reply. “But let’s do some more of this real soon.”
“I wouldn’t dream of waiting long,” she replies as she slowly kisses me on the neck.
My body responds to my wife’s mouth on my skin and the blood surges again. I look at the curve of her shoulders and her breasts. Her plump lips. I want her again. Right now. She can feel me rising inside of her. My rush is hard and fast, filling us up.
“Are you serious?” she asks.
“I… I can’t help myself,” I say, nibbling on one of my wife’s earlobes as I grip her hips tightly with both hands, creating friction where I’m throbbing between us.
She turns to look at the locked door over her shoulder, then sighs heavily. I figure I can talk her into it, so I move two of my fingers around and underneath to rub her most sensitive spot. She smiles and arches her back in response to my touch. She’s ready again, too.
“Alright, alright,” she says teasingly. “Do your worst, Dr. Hartmann.”
She climbs off of my lap, then leans seductively over the stone bench, resting her elbows all the way up against the wall below the windows. Seeing the view of the beautiful lake in the distance and my sexy wife in front of me gets me going even harder. She looks back at me and coos, then slowly raises her backside high into the air. She knows this is my favorite position. I make sure my wife is thoroughly pleasured before being too greedy myself, but nothing feels better than entering her from behind. I think it’s the combination of seeing her body in front of me and being able to thrust most deeply that I like so much. It feels good to her, too, don’t get me wrong. I see to that. But this position is for me. I feel special when she invites me to partake.
“The lake out there looks almost as gorgeous as you do,” I say to my wife as I again place my hands on her hips and grip tightly, preparing to enter her.
“You’re sweet,” she says. “But stop talking and get inside of me. Show me how good I look to you. I want to feel it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, pulling her smooth, wet, pink skin to me and locking myself in place.
My whole body ripples with electricity as I push and pump up against this most beautiful creature I have the honor of calling my wife. Feelings of affection for her envelop me and make me feel like we’re somehow transcending the physical act of lovemaking. I dip and swerve, getting into every crevice. Touching every bit.
In a flash, my attention splits and I’m both thrusting here in the present and remembering making love to Ali in the very same position back in Ancient Ithaki, Greece. I’m getting used to these past life memories now, so I close my eyes and let them take over. Ali is wearing a white gown in my memory. I’m not sure what it’s called. Maybe a dress or tunic. I find it odd that I don’t remember the names of the things I used and saw in Greece. I lived an entire life there, so the names must be somewhere inside of my subconscious mind. Much to my chagrin, they seem to elude me. I let that go and continue.
We’re in a bedroom, high off the ground in some sort of really nice home. It might even be a palace. It’s daytime and the sun is shining brightly outside. Ali is leaning up against a window sill, looking out to a view of the sparkling blue-green sea in the distance below. Her hair is darker than it is in this life. It’s the same rich brown color I remember from my first Greece memory, experienced in Dr. Epstein’s hypnotherapy room. I can again feel my more muscular Greek physique, my body rippling and tensing and I push myself into my love. Her gown is bunched up around her midsection, so I don’t get a view of her entire body. It’s familiar to me though. I know it like I know my own, on a visceral level. Her arms and neck are exposed, along with her round buttocks. Her insides are tighter, more youthful. She’s grabbing and pulling me from the inside as I heave. It feels amazing. I open my eyes in the present to make sure Ali is still enjoying herself in the present. She’s bouncing rhythmically and moaning softly with pleasure. I close my eyes to continue in Greece.
I think this memory is before she was pregnant. It’s certainly before she and baby Ethan were sent outside of the city and banished. I get the feeling we’re sneaking around by being here together. I’m not sure who we’re sneaking around from, but I think they’re elders of some type. Parents, maybe. It feels like Ali and I don’t quite realize the stakes. We feel young and carefree. We don’t have any idea the fate that ultimately befalls us for conceiving a child together. We’re simply having fun and enjoying each other.
Suddenly, I feel a delicate arm wrap around me from behind. I recognize it, but can’t place its owner yet. It’s another female. She slowly strokes my chest and lowers her hand down to the top of my groin as I continue to move in and out of Ali. It’s another lover. In a wave of knowing, I understand that Ali and I both know and occasionally choose to share our lovemaking with someone else. I feel confused as my present-day mind works to make sense of the situation. At the same time, in my memory, my Greek self is at ease and enjoying the moment. Our plus-one slides around the side of me seductively, dropping her white gown to the floor. It piles in a heap around her feet. She steps out of it slowly.
She’s almost exactly the same height as Ali and has a similar build. She’s gorgeous. My manhood swells as I look at her and remember what she feels like. Her breasts are larger than Ali’s. They’re plump and voluptuous. Her nipples are larger than Ali’s, too. She looks somehow more exotic. Not better than Ali, that’s for sure. But just, different. Different is sexy. She maintains eye contact with me as she squats to the floor below Ali and takes one of my love’s nipples into her mouth. She’s asking my permission. I nod, giving it. In another smooth motion, she raises a hand to caress Ali’s throbbing rosebud in order to further
stimulate her as I pump from behind. This young woman’s hair is long, dark brown. It’s almost black. It glistens against her olive skin in the sun. Her eyes are dark brown like her hair, and they’re mesmerizing. I look into them and… oh, my God… I recognize her. I’m almost embarrassed to admit it to myself. It’s… Isabel Madera.
I try and tell myself to stop this memory. But it feels so good. I’m not sure I could stop it if I tried. My Greek body moves its hands around the top of Ali’s back so that Isabel can gain easy access from below, and my present-day hands move to exactly the same place. My memory seems to be in perfect sync with what my current body is doing. Isabel stands, weaving her nakedness under Ali’s so that her back is against the window sill and her luscious, long, dark hair floats out and into the wind. She keeps one hand between Ali’s legs as the three of us feel the throbbing and slippery wetness together. Ali mews with pleasure. She kisses Isabel deeply on the mouth, then takes one of her own hands off the window sill and rubs her fingers artfully inside Isabel’s folds. Isabel moans loudly, alternately tensing and stretching her athletic body as she submits herself to the experience. I continue to thrust, enjoying the view of these two lovely ladies making each other squirm and moan. I love Ali so very much. I want her to feel good. And Isabel is making her feel good. I let myself enjoy the experience. I try not to censor it.
As Isabel’s level of arousal continues to increase, she scurries up and onto the window sill where she spreads her legs open wide. She and Ali kiss once more, then Ali traces her lips slowly down Isabel’s body, stopping only to bury her mouth into Isabel’s wetness. I don’t see anyone walking around outside, but the thrill of the possibility adds to the heightened level of excitement we share. Isabel grabs at her own nipples, tugging and pulling them as she moves her head from side to side with her eyes closed. She’s too immersed in the sexual act to open them. Ali licks harder and buries her face deeper while I push more forcefully to keep up. We continue like this, rubbing and licking and thrusting, until, at once, we climax together in a synchronized chorus of guttural moans and grunts. I feel the power of the release from my Greek body. The virality of my youth and level of fitness make for an intense explosion. It sends echoes throughout my entire being. The memory and the present-day feeling of my beautiful wife in my hands and around my manhood make me climax in the here and now just as hard. I lean against her and deposit every drop left in my system as she responds with delight. I open my eyes in our Lake Tahoe bedroom as Ali turns to me and smiles lovingly. What a ride.