Chapter 5

It didn't turn out exactly as we planned. My angel wives didn't all get double penetrated by me and a strap-on dildo. Only Helena, because all felt she deserved it. Afterwards, the intense and somewhat fucked up day caught up to me, and I pretty much passed out. At least my wives didn't suffer much from the absence of my cock. They had a new pussy to enjoy, and the mostly lesbian Shira got to taste the heavenly taste of three angel's pussies.

So while I felt rested, even at the early hour in which Lindy required us to awake, Shira looked as if she could sleep several more hours. But, at the same time, she had an irrepressible grin. I had never seen her so happy.

"Hello, husband," she giggled, moving onto her toes to kiss me while getting inundated by the force of the shower.

"Hello wife," I grinned back after the kiss.

Distractedly we soaped each other. Mostly we excited each other. Shira knew what I wanted when she bent over to let me gaze and fondle her amazing round ass. I pushed my hard cock into her and fucked her without mercy. We didn't have much time, and my balls cooperated by needing a fairly quick release of their contents. I even had to keep fucking her through ejaculations for her to cum, which she did with a loud groan.

We cleaned ourselves again and dried ourselves. "You think it took?" she asked me.

"You said you're ovulating."

"I have been, yes. Not quite peak anymore."

"Probably," I said. "Nick will know. I'm amazed at your change of mind."

"I never really changed, Joe. I debated, but impregnation almost always came out ahead. I just ... It had to be like this."

"Being my wife?"

"Yes. The dancing ... I'll never be as dedicated as Lindy. I think she wants this, too. I'll know for sure when all those pregnancies show and she'll be envious. But anyway, even if dancing has always been my greatest joy, at least until now," she gave me a quick kiss and giggled, "I don't think it would bother me the way it would bother Lindy to take a break."

"Lindy has Angelique," I reminded her.

"She'll be like a daddy for the baby," Shira agreed.

"A second mommy?" I argued.

"Oh Joe," Shira hugged me intensely and kissed me with equal passion. "You'll be a daddy to whole bunch of babies," she grinned.

"I'll try."

"You'll succeed."

When we arrived at the theater, Nick beckoned Shira over to him and touched her belly and nodded. I could see Shira's elation. It was contagious, probably the greatest joy I felt for any of my impregnations. I knew then, if I hadn't before, that I loved my new wife as much as my other wives.

"What's up?' asked Lindy.

Shira told her. I could see Lindy struggle for happiness. Shira could too. "When you're ready, Lindy," she told her choreographer.

Lindy nodded and looked more at ease. I heard her say, "I love him, you know." I had separated from them to greet a rapidly approaching Angelique, who must have seen Lindy's reaction as well.

"I know," said Shira. "How could you not?"

"I won't marry him."

"But you'll always be best friends."

Finally Lindy smiled her wonderful tilted smile, and looked even happier when Angelique bounded into her arms and kissed her.

"You'll be the best mother," Angelique told her mistress. "And you won't even suffer the consequences."

"Or I'll find out if it will be worth it," Lindy replied and shared a giggle with her slave/lover while placing the petite French beauty onto her feet.

The morning went well, rehearsing dance. The music and the choreography always seemed to get better. My horniness and my newest wife's returned with a vengeance. "Stan and Hannah?" she asked. I nodded. She collected them while I asked Lindy for a little extra time for lunch.

"You know we missed a whole day on the performance piece," she argued.

"You did?" I asked.

She chuckled. "Maybe not, but you do have a lot to catch up with. With your wives distracted and Seraphine incapacitated, we had to make do with the climactic scene mostly."

"What about Tash?"

"Okay, we did some work on the middle. But only on directing, since Helena wouldn't be writing."

"And writing the first part?"

"Okay, that too."

We laughed.

"You're proving to be a great producer/director," I commented tongue in cheek. "Getting the talent guilty as hell."

"Not enough, apparently," she giggled, pinching my cock tenting my tights, even with the jockstrap. Despite the distraction, my body remained buzzing with need. "Half hour extra," she yelled after me as I got pulled away by my equally needy spouse.

Our foursome walked as fast as possible to the room I shared with my wives, Hannah and Stan having to keep up with Shira and me. Immediately, when we arrived, Shira and I stripped. She pushed me onto my back on the bed and straddled my waist and guided my cock into her juicy cunny.

"Use the pump bottle to slick up your cock and Shira's butthole," I rasped.

After they stripped, Hannah knelt in front of Stan, sucking his impressive cock on his equally impressive reddish tan Lakota body. He leaned forward, shoving essence into Shira's bunghole, mostly by keeping coated fingers still and letting her lift up in her rapid rises and falls on my cock. "One more finger," Shira moaned. He had started with two. The third one made her cum, quieting her motion. I pulled her into me, opening her butt cheeks while rubbing our pubic bones together.

A fully hard and slicked up cock got led to the smallest opening by Hannah. "Please," muttered Shira before kissing me sloppily. "Mmm," she sounded when Stan's cock pushed through her sphincter. Instead of instructions, she pushed back, sending him deeper. Thus began the DP, with much quieter movements by Shira. At least at the beginning. The deeper he went, the more she moaned into my mouth. As it had before when I became the first cock inside there, she had to be the least tense and thus the most welcoming in letting her rectum get filled and fucked than any other woman I had ever known.

When pleasure overwhelmed her, she moved faster between us. I helped, clutching her hips, fingers digging into her amazing ass flesh, and lifting into her. Gasping, needing the oxygen, she released her mouth from mine. Immediately a much lower set of lips took their place. Hannah had been kneading her lover's breasts. She continued to when she straddled my face. I sucked eagerly on the blonde's lovely and succulent twat. Shira aided her own overwhelmingly intense pleasure by rubbing her clit.

With almost a keening sound, through a tightened larynx, Shira convulsed as if struck by a seizure. And perhaps she had, but one of immense pleasure.

Stan added a grunting "Fuck," to the sounds in the room. I could feel his cock sliding against mine separated by the thinnest of membranes throughout the DP. I felt his cock throb, ejaculating, while Shira's interior pulsed and shimmered. It felt incredible, perhaps more so because I wasn't distracted by my own orgasm.

Once the two above me collapsed onto me, I heard an impatient, "Move." Somehow the nearly inert bodies obeyed, sliding onto their sides. My cock sprung free.

"I knew it," Hannah practically shouted. Her hand gripped my already coated cock with even slipperier coating before moving down the bed and lowering her butt. "Help me," she said. "Asshole."

I knew she wasn't being derogatory, but the word made me laugh. Nevertheless I aimed my glans to her smallest hole. It resisted. "Relax," I said, both my hands taking hold of her pear shaped ass, softer, but not by much, and not nearly as round as Shira's, though a delightful feature on the lovely blonde. Her sphincter fluttered with tension and release. I sort of timed it to push through at the brief moment of relaxation.

"Ung," she sounded.

"Okay?" I asked.

"Fucking huge. Keep going." She shifted onto her knees, releasing a lot of her tension.

I figured she prepared, but her slickness relieved me of any concern as I gradually let her sink down and I filled her tight orifice.

"Clean yourself, Stan," she groaned.

Rolling out of bed, he managed to dash out of the room. With the absence of cock in her pussy, Shira brought mouth and fingers to it. "Mmm," Hannah approved, rocking back, sending me half way in.

By the time Stan returned, rubbing his cock with earnest and success, I had entered her fully.

"Is that it?" she asked.

"Yes," I told. "You okay?"

"Good," she moaned, probably getting a last tongue lashing of her clit from my talented new wife. Leaning back almost to my torso, she opened herself to Stan, who, kneeling between her thighs, let Shira guide him in. "Slow," she instructed him. With our position, the fuck was his to command. She pressed her elbows against the bed to give her some lift, but not a lot. Mine would be a deep and subtle fucking.

His cock slid against mine once again. Fully in, he withdrew and pushed forward with lengthy, slow thrusts. Not long after, she demanded, "Harder. Faster." And again, "Harder. Faster." And again, "Harder. Faster."

He rammed into her as hard as fast as possible. The impact ended up causing more friction for my cock. At the same time, her elbows seemed to more effectively meet his thrust with hers. And I rocked into the bed, using it as a springboard.

She came mightily, as dramatic and inspiring as ever. As it began tailing off, he came, too, and she added an extra few trembles to her lengthy orgasm. Again it felt remarkable on my cock, mostly her trembling squeezes of her sphincter, but I could feel the buzz of her pussy and the pulse of his ejaculations.

I don't know why I didn't cum, especially earlier inside my wife's delightful pussy. I had to work too hard during the second fucking. And yet the horniness had been sated. I didn't need to cum officially. Somehow, especially during those moments when the others did, I had been given a mental orgasm of sorts that sated me.

"Joe," Shira practically scolded me when my erection became revealed.

"I'm okay," I insisted.

Shaking her head, she said, "Let's clean you up."

In the shower, with my cock cleaned practically to a polish, my wife kneeled, sucked, and I poured my essence into her mouth. Nearly choking, she had to pull the still spurting member from her mouth to swallow before finishing up the rest of my rude spend.

"Sorry," I said.

Her eyes told me to wait. Sucking until I shifted away from her because of the sensitivity, she stood and kissed me, sharing my bittersweet semen, for which I had no complaint. I hugged her fine body, slippery with wetness and sexier because of it.

When our lips broke she smiled delightfully. And giggled. "It took being alone with me, and a quick suck with my lips, to get you to cum."

"You're wonderfully sexy lips," I added, meeting them with mine once more.

Lindy didn't seem disappointed when we returned, probably because she was busy flitting about the various groups, listening in or providing ideas or both. I settled in eating my sandwich with the Lakota contingent. Shira brought hers to Helena's and Tash's table, both writing their particular scenes, with Helena exchanging ideas with Tash about her scene by the spring which Tash would direct. Lindy spent more time with them than the others, with Angelique and the Helen clones second most. She didn't spend much time with Vance and I and the Indians.

As far as the actors, Naomi stuck with Tash as well as most of the rest of the angels and Seraphine. Our Jewish angel also worked with Betty on the poster. The black skinned amongst us would be playing unexpectedly sophisticated African Americans, whether color blind casting or smart servants or of a developing black middle class we hadn't decided. The Orientals, Zhenzhen and Mei and Chanda would pretend to be Indian. Except for Gia who presented cool indifference, but hovered at the edge of things, so I would probably convince her to join in. And of course Rosa was an essential part of the Indians, and like Kai's brother Ger would be in the middle scenes and the ending, with a brief appearance at the end of the first "white" section. Like Lindy, but with much less intention, Nick hovered and flitted, his lovely ambassador lady usually accompanying him.

After dinner and a sort of recess, playing at the lakeshore, Nick recommenced his Tales.

"After a comfortable night with Sophana's new people, minus her and my son, the rest of us headed east. A couple of the king's brother's fine warrior scouts accompanied us as well.

"At the edge of what seemed Sophana's people's territory, a thick jungle with green mountains rising in the distance, I had the others make camp while asking two of Salomé's trusted guards to accompany me."

"We want to go with you, too," Nick's plump young companion insists.

"Of course," Nick smiles. "I wish you to know all about me. This will be a most unique opportunity."

Tromping through the heavy flora of the jungle, even with them following what seems to be a narrow path, it has had some growing over since being made, they arrive at a serene place, a babbling brook stepping down with mini waterfall. A small clearing around it allows them to see the sky. "Help me build a fire," Nick orders. Once built and lit, they sit and watch the small flames, like magic leaves, growing and expanding and twitching in the gentle breeze.

"You must bring my old skin to the fire," Nick explains. "Toss it in and move quickly away. It gets hot, even explosive, but should do no one any damage. My new skin will be tender and extremely sensitive, so do not touch me until the morning. You must keep a vigil until then." He builds a sort of nest of leaves a couple long steps from the fire. Removing his clothing and shutting his eyes, Nick sits cross-legged and begins itching himself all over. Suddenly the itching becomes pulling. His audience gasps, even the stoic warriors. As mundane as pulling off a skintight outfit that happens to cover the entire body, pulling from his chest at the diaphragm and creating a split from the top of his head to his groin area, the removal of skin and the revealing of a completely new skin beneath it still shocks, especially when an altogether new face gets revealed when Nick's hands pull apart the skin there at the gap around his nose. Even weirder and more disturbing, when he finishes the removal, pulling it off his legs and kicking it away, his new body and face writhes, as if in pain, without uttering a sound, and shifts its shape into a leaner form, his face, already different from his past skin's, alters further, becoming broader at eye level and leaner at the mouth. The heavier flap of skin at his eyes reveals his new Asian looks.

"Help me," says his leaner companion, trying to lift his old skin. The other three break their awed gaze and help lift the skin and toss it into the fire where it explodes in a white heat before becoming white flames, quickly dissolving into white ash while the fire resumes its redness. "We should keep the fire going," she tells them, looking at her vulnerable lover. Everyone nods.

Sleep takes a while. One companion remains awake with one guard. The other companion and the other guard finish the vigil.

"Nick," the leaner companion murmurs. Having taken the second shift, she sees him awake at dawn.

"Hi," Nick smiles.

The smile relieves her, and she giggles. "What?" he asks.

"You look enough like Sophana's people not to be bothered."

"Good," Nick smiles. "But enough?"

"A broader face and heavier eyes."

"Like a combination of the more Eastern people and hers."

"Exactly." Earlier ventures had brought back people, lovers of his sons mostly, who probably looked like those who would give nightmares to Sophana's people, so she knew the comparison.

"Even better," he smiles, opening his arms to her.

"You sure?"

"Please?"

She lays upon him and kisses him, noticing his groin much closer to hers. He has shortened though looks still a little taller than most Asians.

"Like a baby's skin," she remarks.

His kisses, and his manipulations of her small breasts through her modest clothing, and his hardening penis rubbing against her vulva, protected by even thinner cloth, gets her wet and ready. She stops to pull away the lower protection and aim his newborn cock into its first cunt and settles onto it. "Mmm," she approves.

"You like," he barely moans out.

"Yes. It's slimmer. Less intrusive. But ... ooh ... it goes deep."

"Cumming," he warns her, his large undulations bouncing her.

"So quick," she mutters, not disappointed. Surprised.

He laughs. "I never got to do that, fuck right after changing. I'm ultra-sensitive."

"Of course," she smiles.

"Keep moving," he asks of her.

She does. He hardens quickly and cums, taking longer, but not much. She does cum a little from it.

"Again," he says.

She giggles and resumes fucking him.

"May I join you?" asks her sister companion.

"Please," says Nick, and soon has a sweet pussy on his mouth. The flavor, the texture and the odor affect him more than they ever have. Not just more sensitivity to the pheromones, but to every sense, just like his cock. Speaking of which, he manages to hold back a third cum until the companion riding him gets hers. It's a struggle, but ends up magnifying the pleasure to a height he rarely if ever has achieved, even if, with her sister companions assistance rubbing her clit and manipulating her nipples with mouth and fingers, it really doesn't take all that long. Bucking up into her as she presses hard into him, her interior aflutter in orgasm, adding to the already peak climax, each release of semen sends him deeper into ecstasy and farther into oblivion until he passes out.

"Fuck," he exclaims when he awakes, his hips lifting into the downward push of the plump companion, and his seed once again spurting into a fluttering cunt.

Her fellow companion giggles, explaining, "You got hard in your sleep, and our horny friend couldn't resist."

"Never a problem," he grins, pulling the plump one down for a kiss and turning his head to kiss the lean one. "Did our warrior friends enjoy the show?"

"They've been masturbating like mad all morning," the plump one giggles.

"Probably should have brought a couple ladies along for them," Nick says.

"Probably," both lovely young women reply with giggles.

"I want to look at myself," says Nick. "There's a pool a little ways down the brook. You stay here until I'm back."

"You don't wish protection?" asks one of the warriors.

"I'll be fine," Nick grins.

Looking at himself in the pool, he sees a mix, like he'd been centuries before, and similarly of north and south. In a way, he wishes he could look more like what he suspects his fellow eternal wanderer probably looks like. But the roundness he sees, sort of mixed with slenderness, the way his broad cheekbones narrow towards his chin, and his broad shoulders and chest narrow similarly to his hips, doesn't displease his sense of aesthetics, of a way for a man to be pleasing to look at. And the presence of that northern, rounder look, though altered by the mix, still holds enough to be associated, at least at first glance.

Once he finishes contemplating his looks, he contemplates his next move, and brings that decision to his little group. "I want you to head back to the king's village," he tells them. "All except the scouts. I want to go with them to find where these invaders originate. I'll ask if they might have a place to meet with their comrades somewhere at the northern edge of the kingdom. These skirmishes, slaughters and captures bother me."

"At least you won't be feared by the villagers," says his lean companion. "In fact, I have a feeling the ladies might want to catch your eye."

Nick laughs. "I have a feeling you may be right. I may even test it along the way."

"Of course," she smiles.

"Not jealous?"

"Only that I wish I could come with you. I know your purpose, Nick. I even take some pride in you choosing me and my cousin as your companions. I know few other women will get the chance to know you over the years, and not be a quick conquest. You are coming back for us?"

"Of course. You'll be with me when we continue our journey east. But for now, I believe what me and the scouts will be doing will be treacherous for even the most skilled of warriors, and especially dangerous for pretty young women."

"We understand," the lean one nods along with her cousin. Each gets thoroughly hugged and kissed before they head back.

The plump one remarks, when Nick dresses, "We should at least stop at a nearby village to get you clothed. The clothing you wore no longer suits you. You look like a destitute man being given clothing by a rich benefactor from some foreign land who happened to be quite a bit larger than you."

"Yes," Nick nods, "these do hang on me like I've shrunk. And I do wish to blend in. But even though I'm shorter than I was, I'm still taller than any of these people."

When they return to the others, the scouts, excited by Nick's proposal, have a solution to his clothing problem. "The man who taught us almost everything we know," says one of them, "who basically created our band of scouts, actually retired not that far from here. We thought about introducing you, but you seemed to be in a hurry."

"You can see why," Nick smiles. "But how can he help me?"

"He's a bit of a giant compared to the rest of us. And his stealth is all the more remarkable for it."

"And you think he will have clothing for me?"

The two scouts laugh. The more garrulous one explains, "That will not be a problem. Part of his stealth, what he brought to the original scouts and eventually to us was to wear clothing for every situation. Jungle clothing and desert clothing and mountain clothing and even village clothing. His sister actually created them."

"His sister," the other chuckles.

"He said she was. None of the older scouts ever saw them intimate, even if she shared intimacy so freely with them."

"But they must have been closer than siblings," said the other. "Why else would he have become so changed when she moved from scouts to monks in giving favors?"

The talkative one nodded. "And when she disappeared with that head monk, he stopped leading his band, only willing to train us youngsters."

"And then her daughter mysteriously appears, supposedly almost an exact replica of her mother, but of course much younger. An incredible beauty. Makes you think only incest could create such a copy. So maybe they were siblings."

"You met her?"

"I helped them move down here, with the chief. She's very attentive to him, since age has not been kind to him. He's practically crippled by it. Perhaps that's what makes him so reclusive now, not to be seen losing his vitality."

"Or you think to hide the incestuous issue who nurses him?"

"Possibly."

Nick finally breaks into the dialogue he finds fascinating. "Would you describe this beauty, mother or daughter since it sounds like the same thing, as more like the Northern people than most?"

"You know she does!" the less talkative one realizes. "It's like her beauty somehow suppresses her resemblance to the enemy. Or maybe since the skirmishes started after her mother's involvement with our band..."

"And the old trainer," said the main talker, "he actually looks a lot like you, a more northern influence than the rest of us."

"So you understand the mix of blood?" Nick asks.

They nod. The more vocal one explains, "Our leader's brother, well, our king now, wanted us not to hate the different look of our enemy, only their intent. He said their blood is in our blood, just as your blood, well when you looked Indian at least, is part of our mix. He reminded us you and your sons, when you brought us the gift of the Great Buddha's dharma, looked foreign to us, just as Buddha himself would look foreign, but we not only had your and his blood within us, but also the blood of all humanity, and the minds, a shared existence for all, and a shared ability to attain mindfulness, enlightenment and Nirvana."

"A wise man. He will be a great king."

They nod.

"Now, I don't want you to jump to conclusions, but can you tell me if you know this woman, the probable brother of your trainer, when she began seducing monks, what path she might have took?"

"It is like a legend," the talker says with a smile. "She began with the main village, though our most populated, the smallest of the monasteries." He stops. "Shit."

"She followed with the two places that got invaded," says Nick.

"The last one first. The one where she met the monk whom she ran off with. So she's a fucking spy? And her daughter. And our trainer? Does that even make sense?"

"Calm down. Don't presume anything. And do not accuse her when we see her. Promise?"

"Why not?"

"Because I suspect her to be the most dangerous woman you have ever met."

"But she is so young," says the quieter one.

"Looks can be deceiving, as I have recently proved."

"So she is like you."

"Similar."

"Like your teak and golden angels?"

"You have met Betty and Salomé?"

"We have. Salomé mostly. She helped train all the warriors."

"Then this woman will not be the most dangerous. Perhaps equal to my angels."

"She ... Mother and daughter ... are the same?" Nick nods. "But not yours?"

"I suspected one to be like me. One who looks like your enemy. His minions, like my influence on you and your chief and your king, though I try not to be too forceful in my influence, have seemed to work hard at steering me away from him. This is all East and North of us. Your trainer is most likely a major minion, and this sister an angel, and they have found a way to keep their presence unknown to me. I presume the trainer steered away from the group when Salomé did her thing?"

"I don't recall. Maybe. But the earlier version of us always worked secretively, separate from the other warriors. I think when our leader became involved, especially when he proved his worth as leader, the trainer became less and less present. I only saw the end of that, but I can see the trend."

They come upon the small hut before any other in the village, much like Nick would have done. The talkative scout calls out, and a tall gaunt man steps from it. He may have been inches taller than Nick in his vital youth, but age and some sort of wasting disease shrank him to Nick's size. Once broad and powerful shoulders slumped from a neck all sinews and blood vessels as if bearing alone the large and heavy head.

"Where's your sister or daughter or whatever you call her?" asks Nick.

"You're him changed," the old soldier says in a low, rough voice.

"I will not harm her."

"I know. Come in. You two wait outside with me."

"But..."

"I will be fine," Nick tells his scouts. "I imagine our conversation will be best in private."

They nod and return their gaze on the old man, complicated, with respect and awe and no little expression of his apparent betrayal.

The small hut has little room beyond the two pallets on the floor. A smell of sickness and of a strong elixir to soothe the man probably rather than elongate his life. A woman of exquisite beauty sits on one of them, of the Northern tribes or what would be known as Chinese. Her eyelids give her away, and her small rounded nose. Otherwise her face looks more oblong than round, just not as tapered as Nick has. She has rounded shoulders on a petite body, her pert round breasts looking larger on her slim torso, which curves out to hips and ass that also look pleasantly larger in contrast to the rest of her. Her legs jut out long, with strong thighs becoming leaner at her calves and ending with small delicate looking feet. All of this becomes visible, because she wears only a loincloth and a narrow cloth hiding while holding her breasts.

"I am Han Chen," she tells him.

"Nick."

"I know. Do you wish my head?"

"You have been naughty. I'd rather you introduce me to your progenitor."

"This is not possible."

"I figured. He is not interested in meeting a fellow wanderer?"

"Is that what you call yourself?"

"Yes. Wandering is the curse of the eternal."

"Understood."

"I know he is curious."

"Your presence surprises him, though he expected it as well. But..."

"It is my philosophy. He wishes to know about Dharma, Karma, Enlightenment and the philosophy of the Buddha."

"Yes. Some he finds silly. Nirvana and reincarnation."

"As do I. I myself had been the reincarnation of a great Hindu god, until I met Siddhartha, the Buddha, and was moved. He seems to have retained some of his Hindu beliefs, perhaps to conjure interest from his people."

"Our people have a more political divisiveness in its philosophies and religions. On one side, ancestor worship, elder worship and the belief in the supremacy of man over woman and leaders over the led. On the other, some similarities to your Buddha, with contemplation and being one with nature and so forth. A similar sort of enlightenment. Quite rebellious actually, with an egalitarian bent and a morality of balance, good and evil as one thing rather than opposites, needing one to have the other, like light defining darkness. Male and female for that matter," she smiles seductively. "I met both philosophers of the two opposing philosophies, becoming quite intimate with the latter. Lao Tse was his name, and Taoism his philosophy. 'The Way.' Very sure of himself."