Chapter 10

"If you see a faded sign on the side of the road..."

As I had expected, Debbie had been understating the size of her "little shack." Both Mary and I gasped when June pulled the limo into a rather large semi-circular driveway in front of a rather large home.

Debbie's "little shack" was an eight bedroom house built on three levels. The person that originally built the place had intended it to be a bed and breakfast, but pressure from the local populace, as well as a generous offer from Debbie's father, scuttled that idea.

The place was actually quite large. After Aimee let us in, I found myself in a living room that could be better described as an atrium in a hotel. There were tropical flowers everywhere, well lit by the sun pouring in from two large skylights on the ceiling. There was even a palm tree, which reached about three quarters of the height of the room.

Interspersed among the floral arrangements were love seats, over sized arm chairs, and tables, providing a lovely place for gatherings. Looking upward, there were large windows from the second story looking out into the atrium. The place was drop dead gorgeous. I continued to look around, expecting to find a hotel reception desk.

"This is your 'shack?'" I asked Debbie, grinning.

"It's lovely," cooed Mary.

"I've only visited here once before," Debbie admitted. "That was before Aimee had the place renovated. She knew the right people to talk to and designed this place to fit right in with the surrounding area. The house is rather large, but from the outside, it doesn't look that huge. The property is quite large, but we have left most of it undeveloped as a way of giving back to nature."

Aimee nodded and added, "Actually, the term 'undeveloped' isn't quite correct, since what the workers did was help replant some of the foliage that had been removed over the past few years."

Debbie nodded at her assistant/co-wife. "Nearby," said Debbie, once again being the tour guide, "Makena beach is one of the few pristine beaches left in the state. When the place was first built, the local residents kept throwing up legal roadblocks to keep a hotel from being built here. My father had heard about these problems from Aimee, and he purchased the land and building for a minor fortune, promising everybody that he'd only use it as a private residence."

Aimee agreed, "They still didn't like the idea of such a big place being so close to the beach, but they preferred the relative solitude of just a few rich people lounging in the place, rather than having crowds of tourists taking over the entire beach."

Debbie continued, "When father passed away..." I could hear her voice crack just a little, but she went on. "I inherited the property. My father has a clause in the ownership papers on this place that it must be kept residential, and he petitioned the local zoning board as well. After seeing this place earlier this year, I decided that this place really should belong to Aimee, as I have many places around the world, and Hawaii is really Aimee's home."

Aimee blushed at this.

"I am just... overwhelmed," I finally said, in awe of the vast beauty of this home.

Debbie and Aimee both smiled at me. Mary, like me, was looking around with her jaw agape.

"Let's take you on the grand tour," decided Debbie. "Don't forget, it's my first time, too!"

Debbie started with the first floor. Walking through the atrium lobby, she led us to the kitchen. It was rather spacious, looking quite like a professional chef's kitchen. This kitchen could probably serve a meal for a hundred people, I thought.

Mary oohed and aahed at the kitchen, completely fascinated by all the counter space that was available, and the immaculate condition of all the appliances.

Through the kitchen, Debbie led us to a large dining room. Mary actually gasped as she entered. I had been expecting a real long dining table, like in the movies where a rich husband and wife eat at opposite ends of a dining room table about the size of a football field. I was surprised to see that the dining table was not that large. It was a functional octagonal table--it could be cozy for two people, and at the same time, it could seat maybe a dozen people at the table without crowding. There were four chairs at the table at present, but there were extra seats placed about the dining room unobtrusively but strategically. There were serving tables near the dining table, and near the wall was a china cabinet with no less than three different patterns in evidence, all of them with orchid motifs. Like the atrium, there were flowers everywhere, including a potted palm with orchids of many colors surrounding it.

Debbie beamed at the reception that Mary and I gave her "little grass shack." She led us through another hallway at the other end of the dining room, and found a hallway that ended in a plush stairway and a set of elevator doors.

"The elevator was in the original plans as a guest elevator," explained Debbie. "When my father purchased the property, he had changed it into a freight elevator--for moving furniture and that sort of thing. We don't generally use it. Maybe someday, we'll convert it into a dumbwaiter."

As we walked upstairs, I noticed Aimee quietly separate from us and walk into another door opposite the stairs. Debbie saw my questioning glance, and explained that there were a couple of rooms on the first floor, and her assistants used them exclusively. Those rooms had their own entrance in the back for their privacy.

That explanation took me by surprise. Surely, Debbie didn't still think of Aimee as an employee... she was a "co-wife" and an important member of our little "family." I didn't mention anything aloud, though.

Mary and I followed Debbie upstairs, and saw what looked like a hotel corridor. There were a few potted plants and orchids nicely placed in between the doors in the hallway.

"We took the original room plans, and then did them over, changing them from a dozen spacious rooms to four suites, and one master suite. Let me show you," said Debbie.

As she opened the door to the first room, I noticed that unlike most hotels I had been in, there was no key or any lock mechanism in the door--just like a real house.

Mary gasped as she entered the room with me. The place looked like it could be an apartment for a couple. There was a living area, with the ubiquitous palms and orchids, and a large television/entertainment center. The main color in this room was pink ("Rose" corrected Debbie when I mentioned the color--all the rooms were given specific names indicating their color scheme).

There was a large sliding window that led out to the "lanai," which Debbie explained was a local term for an outdoor balcony. The lanai had a couple of chaise lounges and a patio table with a couple of chairs. The entire porch connected with the other rooms on this side of the house.

Coming back into the room, there was a partition that led to the bedroom. This bedroom had a king size canopied bed in it. Debbie explained that one of the other regular rooms had a king size bed like this one, and the other two of the regular rooms had "California King" water beds (this was a water bed the same size as a standard king-size bed, Debbie explained when I asked).

The room also had its own private bath, with a roomy bathtub for two with turbo-jets and an integrated shower, a separate vanity, a toilet, and a bidet. I smiled, remembering that large bathtub in the Regency where we had just stayed.

Debbie led us out of the first room, and showed the next room across the hall to Mary and me. It was furnished similarly to the first, except the color scheme was bluish-purple ("Indigo" was the name of the room). It was in this room that Debbie showed us the water bed, which looked exactly like the bed in the previous room. Automatically, I pressed my hand down on the top of the bed, and it rippled slowly from my touch, causing the three of us to giggle a bit.

The next two rooms, one being orange ("Sunrise") and the other being green ("Lime"), were similar to the first two.

When Debbie led us to the final room, the master suite, we had expected to see another similarly laid out room. We were in for a surprise.

First, if the other rooms were considered large, this last one was HUGE. The first things you saw as you entered were a living room, a small but well-lit library, and a small, but functional, kitchenette. The color scheme in this room was light purple ("Orchid").

Moving through the living room, there was the bedroom, with another California King water bed, two walk-in closets, and an even bigger bathroom than the others.

The bathroom in the master suite also had a door opening to a small exercise room and a sauna.

I didn't realize that my jaw had been hanging open until he saw Mary's smiling face laughing at me as she brought her hand to my chin, closing my jaw.

Walking back into the bedroom, we saw two large glass panels that looked into the atrium. On the other side of the room, was a large sliding glass door that led out to the lanai. This porch actually had a blue slide that ran from the floor of the porch into a large outdoor pool below.

Debbie indicated the slide, saying, "That was one of my own requests that I made. The workers warned me to make sure that the water on the slide is turned on before anyone goes down, or you may lose the top layer of skin on your backside!" She pointed to a spring-loaded water lever that automatically ran the water for a few minutes before it turned itself off automatically.

"This place is wonderful," gushed Mary. I agreed. Debbie was quite pleased at our reactions.

Debbie decided to adjourn back to the atrium, taking another stairway from the master bedroom directly into the lobby where we had first arrived.

"Have a seat," offered Debbie, walking to a chaise lounge close to us. There were three other lounges near her, and Mary I took our seats on either side of Debbie.

No sooner had we sat down, when Aimee arrived, wearing a grass skirt and a light tan bikini top, which blended into her skin so perfectly that I did a double take to ensure that she wasn't topless. She had orchids in her hair, and a fresh lei around her neck. She wore sandals made from tan terry cloth, which almost made her look like she was barefoot. IF there could be any doubt that we were in Hawaii, Aimee's appearance removed it completely.

Aimee was carrying a tray with a half dozen glasses, an ice bucket, and two large pitchers.

"Margaritas? Or would you prefer pina coladas?" Aimee asked, softly. "We also have homemade Sangria back in the kitchen," she explained.

I had a margarita, which Aimee prepared carefully, first salting the glass, and then adding the ice, followed by the green liquid.

Mary and Debbie both had coladas, which Aimee poured for them over ice. She looked at Debbie, who gestured to the empty chaise lounge next to Mary. Aimee smiled, and poured herself a margarita, and then put the tray down on the table next to the chaise where she sat.

Debbie raised her glass in the air. "To my wonderful Master!" she toasted.

The other girls raised their glasses and said, "Yes! Our wonderful Master!"

I knew that they had said that in jest, and I took it in good humor. "To the most wonderful women I have ever met!" I answered.

I tasted the margarita, and was quite impressed about how smooth it tasted. I had been steeling myself for the sharp tang of tequila, but didn't taste it. Instead, it just felt nice and warm going down. I looked at Aimee with appreciation, who grinned at me. She took another sip from her margarita as well.

"Yum," said Mary, sipping her colada. "Very delicious!"

"Thank you," said Aimee, a bit shyly. "We aim to please."

The alcohol, plus the relaxing atmosphere (I could hear water running as if there were some sort of running stream in the atrium), plus the sexual calisthenics that I performed on our last day in the Hyatt Regency, quickly put me to sleep.

I was exhausted, but I felt quite peaceful.

Blessedly, I didn't dream.

I woke up and found myself alone in a tropical paradise.

Wait! Where was everybody?

I wanted to scan for the girls, and stopped. I hadn't yet got around to talking to them about with the ethics of doing so, and getting their feelings on the matter.

The one person I had talked with about that was Aimee, and she told me on our "marriage" day that she had no secrets from me. "Any time you want to share my mind," she told me, "just do so."

I therefore scanned for Aimee, and found that she was laying in a bed. She wasn't asleep.

"Hi, Jim. I've been waiting for you," she said, apparently detecting me in her mind.

Damn smug female! I love her so!

I felt her chuckle at my reaction, and I thought again about controlling my thoughts when I was in her mind. It just wasn't safe! I put that thought aside; if Aimee had no secrets from me, I should have no secrets from her. It would just take a bit of getting used to that.

"I see that you are worried about Debbie and Mary. They just went for a walk to the beach. It's about a mile or so. Pu'u Ola'i, it's called. The Little Beach. I'll be happy to take you there," Aimee explained.

"I'm not really dressed for the beach," I told her.

"No bother," she said. "Clothing is not required where they are going."

"A nudist beach?" I asked.

"Naturist, I think they call themselves. Debbie loves climbing the rocks to get to the little beach."

I thought about that. Then, I noticed some hesitation in Aimee's thoughts.

"What's bothering you, Aimee?" I asked.

She was unsure how to answer, I could feel that in her mind. I quietly told her to calm down and just ask.

"I had been thinking about your coma," she said.

"Yes?" I asked. "I told you just about everything that I know."

"Are you sure that you didn't die, and steal some other soldier's body?"

That was a weird question. "Of course I didn't steal anybody's body. I wouldn't know how."

I felt Aimee consider my answer. She paused, somehow keeping her thoughts to herself. I decided to let her think.

After a minute or so, she asked another question. "Do you think of yourself as a good person, Jim?"

My instinct was to answer, "Of course I'm good," but I stopped myself before thinking it "aloud." Instead, I carefully considered her question. Finally, I answered. "Is anybody a good person, Aimee?"

"There are good people. There are bad people. Do you consider yourself a good person?" she asked, simply.

Again, I thought of her question. I never thought of myself as evil. I couldn't for the life of me think of anything that I had done in my life that I was ashamed about. I really didn't think of myself as a bad person, but does anybody? "I think I'm a good person," I replied, as honestly as I could. "At least... I try to be a good person. How does one tell?"

Aimee said, seemingly as if she was quoting something, "A person should hurry toward the good and restrain one's thoughts from the bad."

"Are my thoughts bad?" I asked her.

"I don't believe so, Jim. You are a good person."

I thought about this. I have tried my utmost to be a good person. What if I had just been kidding myself? It worried me. Aimee's answer was pretty self-assured, however. Being called a good person by her did soothe my soul a bit.

I think I must have left Aimee's mind, and re-entered my own, falling fast asleep.

I realized that I was back in my own mind, and I was sleeping, and after a time, I sent my "presence" outside my body, and looked down on myself.

I was startled to find Aimee, reclining next to my body, completely nude. Her eyes were closed, and there was a lovely smile on her sleeping face.

Suddenly, I felt a presence next to me... up in the air!

"Have a good sleep?" Aimee's presence asked me.

"You can do this, too?" I asked, simply amazed. I had an eerie thought of that one other presence I had met near that newspaper machine, back when I was comatose.

"No," answered Aimee's presence slowly. "I think this is just temporary. Your mind was thinking about my question, over and over. You stopped answering me... it was like your thoughts were running in circles. After a while, you left my mind, only you somehow took me--what you call my "presence"--with you. Your mind felt peaceful; you were sleeping. Your mind was also open. I could see your heart... You were worried about my question. It worried you to your core."

There was a pause, and then I heard Aimee's presense again. "Jim, a bad man doesn't wonder if he is a good man. An evil man doesn't even care. You are a good man, Jim," her presence told me.

"I am a good person?" I asked.

Her presence, alas, had disappeared.

I re-entered my own mind, and opened my eyes. Aimee was looking at me, sitting next to me.

"I am a good person?" I whispered to her, making it a question.

"You are a good person, Jim," she whispered back to me, making it an answer.

She moved her head to mine, and kissed me.

"Share with me," she asked.

Somehow, I understood what she wanted. As I kissed her, I entered her mind. Once that was accomplished, I entered her lovely nude body.

When I was active in the army, I avoided most sexual partners, since I hadn't really been stationed anyplace permanent, and I didn't see it being ethical to "date" the female troops. Now, just a few weeks after being discharged from the hospital, I had three steady partners.

Making love with Mary can best be described was always very intimate. Each time we made love, it's like the first time for us... rediscovering each other's bodies and minds, once again, intertwining the two, allowing the love to peak and peak.

Debbie, on the other hand, is more like the Fourth of July. I've aptly described her before as a firecracker, and the description fits perfectly. She makes love with an intensity that I had never experienced before I had met her. She is fiercely independent, but pretends to be dominated by me, a pretense that I can easily see right through. Instead, she adapts to a sexual situation, enhancing it for the both of us.

With Aimee, making love is more like Thanksgiving: quiet and slow; tender and almost leisurely. She gave me her mind, and allowed me free access to her mind and her body. When our minds and bodies merged, we would react in ways that would drive us together more and more frantic, until the two of us reached climax after climax.

Aimee was already nude, and we were sitting on a double chaise lounge in the atrium. I don't remember undoing my trousers, but it had only taken a moment for me to enter Aimee. She was already primed. Our minds had merged, and I knew that she was sharing the feelings in my body at the same time we were both sharing the feelings in her own tiny body. This was something that I have, up until this time, only experienced with Aimee--with the other girls, if I "entered" their mind, my presence would seem to leave my own body. This is the reason that Aimee and I referred to this closeness as "sharing."

Together, we worked as a perfectly functioning team; not rushing, but not too slowly, either. Aimee's body fit mine like a glove; and now, we were indeed conjoined in a way we hadn't felt before.

Every movement we made was like the perfect precision of a Mozart symphony. Our bodies moved as one, as if we were both part of a sophisticated and well-tuned machine.

I wish words could describe the intimate coupling that Aimee and I shared that morning; it was about as momentous as when I had awakened from my coma.

Aimee's mind was totally opened to me, and I found myself seeing bits and pieces of her life. For the first time, I saw Debbie's father, James Malen, sitting in his office with an unlit cigar in his mouth. I saw Aimee's mother, and her mother's sister that had passed away when Aimee was just ten years old. I knew that Aimee was probably seeing bits and pieces of my own life as well.

The feeling that we shared... the word "joy" seems to describe it perfectly. We felt joy in being inside each other and with each other, mentally and physically.