Chapter 3

Terry matrimonial instincts were screaming at her that something was wrong as they drove home from school that afternoon. Paul knew this but was unwilling to put up a façade of any kind for her benefit. He kept taking glances at her as he drove, trying to equate the woman he loved, who was sitting next to him in a prim and proper teacher's dress, with the woman who had allowed Laura to eat her pussy in a Las Vegas hotel room. The images were blackly erotic to envision, that was true, but they also invoked a deeper, more confusing emotion within him. His wife had a secret life. She had been doing things that he had not known about, had not even suspected. Was there anything else that she had done?

It would be very easy to find out, he knew. It would be as simple as instructing her to tell him the truth and then asking. But he had made a vow that he would not use the power on Terry if he could avoid it. True, he had also made a vow that he would not take advantage of any more women and he had broke that vow today, but restraining from violating Terry's mind seemed deeper somehow, more serious. And besides, who knew what kind of unpleasantness he might uncover? Did he really want to open that can of worms? He already knew one of his wife's secrets and he was still unsure of how it was affecting how he felt about her. What if there were others?

Terry tried several times to initiate conversation with him. Each time he answered her briefly and in as few words as possible. The semi-silence continued after they arrived at home, all through their weekday routines. They talked very little as they corrected papers and assignments, as they made dinner, as they cleaned up the dishes. After the house was spotless Paul went into the family room and sat on the couch.

He stared upwards at the blank television screen, the screen that had, in a way, started all of this. He wondered again why he had been given such a power. What was it for? What had its giver intended for him to do with it? Was it simply an experiment? He tried to recall the words that the image of Clinton had said to him that day but most of them had been lost, failed to be filed away during the excitement and fear of the bizarre experience. Was it some sort of test? And if so, for what? Was it some sort of curse? Was it maybe one of those things, like the Monkey's Paw in literature, that seemed pleasant on the surface but that actually stole the soul of the recipient? Perhaps. In the two and a half days that he had been in possession of the gift he had violated his marriage vows twice with two different women. Did that constitute the loss of his soul? Perhaps. But what of the other things that he could potentially do with the power, the political things, the power things. Was that the test?

Without even realizing that he had stumbled upon the exact reason for his gift, Paul let his troubled mind drift to other thoughts. He thought again of Laura and Terry's relationship. What did that mean? Was Terry a closet lesbian like Laura? Did she even enjoy sex with him, enjoy living with him? He was reasonably certain that his wife did love him and did enjoy being married to him. Maybe they were not quite soul mates but they were close. He did not think it possible for someone to put on such an act of happiness and contentedness if they truly were not. Was she bisexual then? Was lesbian curiosity just an aspect of her considerable sexual drive?

"The TV is a lot more interesting if you turn it on," Terry said from the doorway.

Paul turned and looked at her. She was dressed in her typical nightgown of a long T-shirt. It was a little early in the evening for her to dress for bed, which meant that she was probably hoping for a little lovemaking soon. He knew that underneath the T-shirt she would be completely bare. "I know," he told her, offering a slight smile. "I was just thinking a little."

"Mind if I join you?" she asked a little timidly. That she would even ask spoke great volumes about how unusual his behavior had been lately. Normally she would just come in and plop down.

"Be my guest," he said, patting the sofa next to him.

She came around the couch and sat down, the hem of her shirt pulling upwards and displaying her long sexy legs for him. She leaned into him companionably, resting her head on his shoulder. "What were you thinking about?" she asked.

"Women," he said simply.

"Women?" she said carefully, her tone the complete opposite of what he had expected. He had expected that his statement would break the ice a little between them, lead to a sexual conversation and divert attention away from his recent silence. Instead she had behaved as if she had just took a step into a verbal minefield. "What do you... uh... what do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" he asked, looking at her.

Terry returned his gaze, her own eyes searching his and obviously not liking what they saw. To his surprise, a tear appeared in hers and she began to tremble miserably. "You know, don't you?" she asked him.

"I know?" he returned, not getting her.

"Oh god Paul," she said, her lip quivering. "She told you, didn't she? You know!"

"She?" he asked, still confused, both about what it was that he knew and who had told him.

"I can see it in your eyes," she said, the tear falling. "Oh god. You know about Laura and I, don't you?"

Jesus, he thought, was he THAT easy for her to read? "Terry," he said softly. "Maybe we should... "

"I'm sorry Paul," she said, sobbing now. "Oh god, why did she tell you? Is she that driven, that vindictive?"

"Terry, I uh... " he trailed off, unable to think of a thing to say.

"When Maureen told me that you and she were in your classroom together all lunch period," she said, shaking her head and continuing to sob, "and when I saw the way you were acting today on the way home... Well, I thought that maybe she had told you but I didn't want to believe it. But she did, didn't she? That bitch! Oh Paul, I'm so sorry! I'll never let it happen again! I'll never see her again, I swear!"

"It's okay Terry," he said, pulling her body back to his and letting her cry on his shoulder. His head was really reeling now, on overload almost. Not only did he discover his wife's secret life today, but now she knew he had discovered it. Maureen had told her that he and Laura had been alone in the classroom! He should have foreseen that! That was Maureen to a T. Nothing that smacked of illicitness escaped her attention.

"It's not okay!" she cried. "It's not! I cheated on you Paul. I cheated on you with another woman! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I just... I mean... oh god." She went into a crying fit that lasted nearly ten minutes. He held her in silence, rubbing her back through her T-shirt and caressing her hair.

When her cries petered mostly out and the sobs died down to the occasional hitch, she looked up at him, her eyes wet. "Are you going to leave me?" she asked miserably. "I'll understand if you do."

"No Terry," he said gently, wiping at a stray tear. "I'm not going to leave you. This may be hard for you to believe, but I'm really not all that offended by what you did."

"What?" she asked in disbelief. "Not offended? Paul, I cheated on you! With a woman!"

"Believe it or not," he told her, "most of us men draw a distinct line between extra-marital affairs with men and with women. Remember my fantasy?" His fantasy, which they had occasionally discussed while under the influence of too much wine, was typical for married men. He had confessed to her on several such occasions that he had always wanted to have a threesome. Terry had of course always responded as most married women did when posed with such a suggestion: she had laughed it off with a polite "I don't think so."

"Yes," she sniffed. "But I always thought that was just a fantasy. You know, like mine?" Terry's stated fantasy during such discussions had always been to have sex in a crowded room while others watched her. She envisioned doing such a thing during a party or, she had once confessed while VERY drunk, during a wake. "I never thought that you really wanted to DO it. I don't really want to have sex while people watch me, you know? I just like to THINK about it."

"I see," he said thoughtfully. "Well, in any case, I'm not mad at you and I'm not going to leave you. I still love you very much. It was just kind of, well, a shocking discovery if you know what I mean. I had never suspected that of you before and it takes a while to adjust to something like that."

"I'll never do it again Paul," she said forcefully. "I swear I won't!"

He looked at her pointedly. "Let me tell you something," he said. "The thought of you and Laura doing that together is actually very arousing."

"What?"

"It is," he assured her. "If you want to have relations with women, I won't stop you." He grinned a little. "In fact, I will actively encourage you to do so."

"You're not serious," she said. "Paul, that is so weird for you to say something like that."

"Is it?" he asked, taking her hand in his. He placed it on his crotch, which was obviously sporting an impressive erection. "Does it feel like I'm not serious?"

"It really does turn you on to think about that," she said, feeling him. "Paul I... I don't know what to think. Part of me thinks I should be pissed off at you for even suggesting that."

"But the other part?"

"The other part is very interested," she admitted. "But can our marriage survive something like that? I do have certain... well attractions for women. I have for quite some time. But if I act upon them, will that drive you away from me, will that drive me away from you? I don't want to risk that."

"I have an idea," he said slowly, wondering if he was making a mistake or not. "Something has happened to me lately that can potentially put our marriage at just as much risk as you engaging in affairs with women."

"What do you mean?" she asked fearfully. "Are you having... an affair?"

"Not really," he said.

"Not really? What the hell does that mean?"

"I suggest," he told her, "that we sit here tonight and be honest with each other. Completely honest. And then we'll see where that leads, shall we?"

"Everything will be different," she said.

"Everything already IS different Terry," he told her gently. "Why don't we see if we can come to some sort of accommodation with it?"

She nodded, a little reluctantly. "Okay."

"Let's start with you," he suggested.

"Why me?"

"Because your secrets are probably not as shocking as mine are," he said simply. "Is Laura the only one?"

She stared at him nervously for a moment, seemingly on the verge of demanding to know what his shocking secret was. But finally she said: "The only one as an adult."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "Why don't I start from the beginning."

"That sounds like a good place," he agreed.

"Okay," she said. "Here goes. When I first started to grow up and get my boobs and everything, I had the normal desires for men. I wasn't MEANT to be a lesbian, you know. I'm different from Laura. I'm different from your typical lesbian. Laura has always had desires for women, for girls, do you understand?"

"Yes," he said, "she told me that."

Terry let that one go. "I see," she said. "Anyway, my point is that, if left to my own devices, I would never have experimented with a woman, would never have had desires for them. I'm meant to be a strict heterosexual."

"But something happened?"

She nodded, her eyes showing shame. "My Aunt Linda happened," she said softly.

"Your Aunt Linda?" he asked incredulously. He had thought that he had reached the limits of how shocked he could be in the course of a single day. Terry invoking the name of her aunt proved him wrong. Linda was a middle-aged and twice-divorced investment counselor that lived in Omaha. She was very successful in her field - quite an accomplishment for a woman in that male-dominated profession - and was a conservative, card-carrying Republican. She lived in an expensive house in the good part of Omaha and usually only associated with the other members of her family on Christmas and Easter and other such holiday gatherings. Paul had always thought her something of a snob, a person that looked down her nose at the poorer members of her clan; those that were living on mere teacher's salaries. She was attractive in a businesslike way and did not exude the slightest hint that she might favor the same sex in intimate encounters.

"My Aunt Linda," Terry confirmed, leaning back into the couch a little. "She moved in with us when I was thirteen. She was twenty-one or so then and was working on her degree at the university. My mom took her in because she wasn't getting along with my grandma."

"Yes," Paul said, remembering several references that Barbara, Terry's mom and the eldest sibling in the family, had made in the past about "when Linda lived with us."

"Linda lived with us for about a year, until she finished her bachelor's degree and got picked up at the firm she works at. She's a closet lesbian, like Laura, and always has been. To give her credit, I don't think she intended to do what she did with me, not at first, but, modesty aside, I was quite a piece when I started to develop."

"I've seen the pictures," Paul said with a grin. And it was true. Terry, beautiful as an adult, had been excruciatingly cute and desirable as a young teen. In one of their photo albums was a shot of her at a slumber party dressed in a short nightgown that showed off her legs. Paul had masturbated while looking at the picture on several occasions.

"I was also a very affectionate kid, like I am now I guess. I would hug Linda a couple times a day, just out of friendship. I liked her a lot. She was really cool, you know. She was in college and she had boyfriends and a car and she could talk to me in my language. Well, I guess being around me all of the time and having me hug on her and talk to her and sometimes being naked in front of her, took their toll eventually."

"What happened?" Paul asked, feeling his erection, which had wilted, regain strength.

"One night, while mom and dad were out at a party for his company and Jill was in bed," she said, referring to Jill, her younger sister, "Linda and I were watching TV on the couch. I think we were watching Cheers, if I remember right. Linda was wearing her nightgown and so was I, although a couple of times I saw her move on the couch and noticed that she wasn't wearing any panties under hers. I was able to see her pubic hair and everything. She had a very hairy pussy and I couldn't help but look at it each time. I know now that she was doing it on purpose but then I didn't realize that. Finally she asked me why I kept looking at her crotch. She said it real gentle-like, so I wouldn't be too embarrassed. I told her that I was sorry, but that I didn't realize women got so much hair down there. And I didn't! Mine had only been growing for six months or so and I just had fuzz back then."

"Uh huh," Paul nodded, trying to hide his eagerness.

"So then she told me I could look at it if I wanted to. Before I could even answer, she opened her legs and showed it to me. She started explaining about puberty and growth and all of that and then she asked me how much hair I had on mine. Before I knew it I had taken my panties off to show her. She put her fingers on my pussy, pretending like she was just checking it out for normal growth, but actually caressing me. It felt really good, what she was doing, but it felt wrong too, nasty. But I didn't stop her. She started rubbing it more and pretty soon she had her fingers in it and I was very wet."

"I tried to ease out of things at that point because I was confused and didn't know what to do. I had never felt as excited as she was making me but I also knew that it was wrong to be doing it. But Linda kept talking soothing to me and kept rubbing my pussy until it was wet and swollen. She kept telling me how pretty I was and how much she loved me. Pretty soon she was kissing my neck and then my shoulders. She lifted up my gown and started sucking on my boobs and that was when I stopped protesting. She laid me back on the couch and kissed her way down between my legs. Then she started to eat me and I was completely lost. The first orgasm that I ever had was in her mouth while she sucked my clit. But she didn't stop there. She kept on eating me until I came three or four more times."

"Wow," Paul said softly, shifting a little to rearrange his boner. "That's... uh... "

"Arousing?" she said, letting her fingers glide across his bulge.

"Yes," he admitted.

"Then she asked me to do her," Terry went on, letting her fingers fall to her bare thighs. "I couldn't do it, couldn't bring myself to put my mouth on her like she did me. She said she understood and asked me if I would do her with my fingers."

"And did you?"

"I did," she said. "She took my hand and put it between her legs. She was very wet, dripping even. She had me put my fingers in and out of her for a while and then taught me how to rub her clit while I was doing it. She pulled up her nightgown and showed me her tits, pulling my face to them. I sucked on her nipples while she grabbed me by the wrist and shoved my hand in and out of her. She came a few minutes later."

"She seemed to be ashamed of herself after that and she apologized to me about a hundred times before we went to bed. I laid awake all night thinking about what we had done, sometimes feeling ashamed about it, sometimes feeling excited about it. Even when I was feeling ashamed though, I still felt aroused. Do you understand?"

"I think so," he said, nodding, thinking about how he felt about what he had done to Julie and Laura.

"It never happened again with her. The next day, when we were alone, she told me that she was sorry and that we shouldn't have done that. She told me her secret, that she was a lesbian, and begged me not to tell anyone. She said it would destroy her career if anyone found out. The rest of the time that she lived there with us, she was kind of distant with me, tried not to stay in the same room with me. I think being alone with me scared her."

"I imagine it did," he said, unable to get the vision out of his mind. "You could have gotten her sent to prison."

"But I kept her secret," Terry said. "I've never told anyone about that until just now. But I've never forgotten it and the experience has given me a desire for women that I didn't have before. I mean, she ate my pussy good Paul. She ate it even better than you do."

"I stand humbled," he said.

She laughed a little, breaking some of the tension. "Until Laura, I never did it again, but I always remembered how nice it felt and I always kind of wanted to try it. But I wasn't a lesbian and I couldn't really commit myself to that lifestyle. I still had a primary attraction for men so I just put the experience behind me and went on with the typical life of a teenager. I dated, I had boyfriends, I lost my virginity when I was sixteen. I've told you all of this."

"Yes," he agreed.

"My first experiences with boys were disappointing of course, they always are for girls. But gradually, as I got older, they began to get better. Especially when I met you. You really are a great lover and you satisfy me very well. We're very compatible sexually, wouldn't you say?"

"I would," he said.

"But everyone has their fantasies," she said. "And thanks to Linda, one of mine has always been having a woman eat me out. I've also wondered what it's like to return the favor, something that I've never done. Did Laura tell you that I never did it to her?"

"She told me everything," he said truthfully.

She nodded. "I see. Laura seemed to see something in me, something that marked me as a potentially willing partner. She pushed all the right buttons when we went to Las Vegas that one time and got me into bed with her."

"Did you enjoy it?" he asked her.

"Very much," she admitted. "Laura eats pussy very well. She's a very good lover. She's so good that I have had a hard time staying away from her ever since then. Most times I can resist going all the way with her, but I crave her like a drug. I love to feel her fingers in my pussy, to feel her mouth on mine. I really do Paul. I know its wrong while I'm doing it and I keep telling myself that it will be the last time, but I can't seem to help it. Whenever she calls me up and asks me to go to a movie with her, I know that its just an excuse for her to get her hands and lips on me, but usually I go and usually I let her at least finger me. I can't help it!"

"You don't need to help it," he told her. "You can have sex with her anytime you like."

"Paul," she said, shaking her head vehemently. "That's just crazy! How can you tell me something like that?"

"Because I mean it," he told her. "If she makes you hot, if you want to make love to her, why should I stop you? Do you want to eat her in return?"

"Yes," she said. "Very much. But I've never done it. It seems like I would be crossing over some sort of line if I did that. But I want to. I want to."

"Then do it," he said.

Her face became slightly angry. "And why are you telling me all of this Paul?" she demanded. "You said you had a secret of your own, that it would shock me more than I shocked you. What is in this offer for you? Are you having an affair? Are you trying to turn our relationship into some sort of swingers club? Is that what you're doing? I get to fuck Laura and you get to fuck some chick in return?"

He looked at her sternly for a moment before answering, trying to gather his thoughts. "I told you that things have changed Terry," he said. "And they have. They haven't changed through any fault of mine, not really, but I've been... given something that has changed the way I think, the way I act."

"Given something?" she asked. "What do you mean? What are you talking about?"

"I've been given a power," he said softly.

"A power?" she said, exasperated. "What the hell are you talking about?"

He took a deep breath. "Okay," he said. "Here goes." He knew of course that he could tell Terry and then make her forget the conversation if she reacted too strongly to it. But he did not want to have to do that. He needed to talk to somebody about what had happened to him, about the feelings that he could no longer control. And who better was there for him to talk to then his wife? "I had a very strange experience the other day," he said. "After we took our showers from our little encounter at my desk. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," she said carefully. "What kind of experience? I don't remember anything happening except we made love."

"Do you remember me being a little distracted while we did it on the bed?"

She thought for a moment. "Well yes," she replied. "I do. But what does that have to do with anything?"

He wrung his hands together nervously for a moment. "Do you remember," he asked her, "having a conversation about whether or not the door was locked?"

"Yes," she answered. "You wanted to check and make sure and I told you that it was. You didn't believe me and went to check anyway. So what?"

"That never happened Terry," he said. "Now before I go any further, tell me, does that whole incident seem quite out of character for me? Since when do I give a rat's ass whether or not the door is locked when we make love? We live in a good neighborhood that is pretty short on home invasion robberies. Have I ever worried about something like that before?"

"Well... " she considered for a second. "No, not really. But I don't see what... " She paused as some of his earlier words soaked in. "Wait a minute," she said. "What do you mean that never happened? I clearly remember it happening. Paul, you're talking crazy."

"I'm not," he said. "This is what really happened that day:" And with that, he explained about the voice from the speakers and about President Clinton on the television and about the gift that he was given and about how he had used it to make her believe that he had gone from one room to another. She listened with a growing disbelief and alarm in her eyes.

"Paul," she said carefully, when he was finished. "Tell me that you don't really believe what you just told me."

"I wish I could," he said.

"You actually believe that you have been given the power to control the thoughts of other people?"

"I don't have to believe it Terry," he said. "I DO have that power. I've been using it for two days."

She swallowed nervously, wringing her own hands now in an unconscious imitation of one of his mannerisms. "I think," she said slowly, "that maybe we had better make an appointment for you to... you know... uh... see someone about this. I think maybe you're exhibiting symptoms of some sort of... schizophrenia or something."

"I'm not," he insisted. "I can prove to you that I have this power."

"Paul," she said, more nervously. "I...

"I don't want to use the power on you," he said. "I've made a vow with myself that I won't do that. But go put some clothes on and I'll prove it to you, okay?"

She shook her head. "I think that maybe we should... "

"Terry," he said gently. "Please, humor me just for a few moments. If I don't prove to you that I have this power, then I will go talk to whomever you wish tomorrow, okay?"

She thought it over for a moment and then finally nodded. She got up and walked out of the room, heading for the bedroom. She returned a few minutes later wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. She had also, he saw, put on a bra. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Next door," he said.

"What?" she asked, embarrassed in advance. "I don't think... "

"Just humor me," he said. "I promise, I will not humiliate us."

Dubiously she followed him out the door. Twice on the trip across their lawn she tried to get him to return but he simply pressed on, walking up to the front door of Rich and Julie's house. He rang the bell.

"Paul," she whispered frantically. "What are you going to do? What are you going to say to them?"

"Just watch," he said, hearing footsteps approaching the door. It swung open a moment later and Rich stood there, wearing a pair of sweat pants and no shirt, his athletic body on display. His face formed a smile when he saw his neighbors standing there.

"Hi Paul, hi Terry," he greeted. "What's up?"

Projecting towards him, Paul said: "Nothing that I ask you to do is unusual. You will comply with it as if it is a normal request made by one neighbor to another and you will answer any question I ask truthfully and with no sense that it is strange in any way."

"Paul!" Terry, hearing this, hissed, her face turning red.

But Rich simply smiled wider. "Sure, sure," he said.

"Let us in," Paul told him.

He stood aside, opening the screen door to allow him admittance. Paul looked at Terry, who was staring at the scene with wide eyes.

"Come on in," he told her, stepping through the doorway. Terry, after a moment, followed.

"Is this some sort of set-up between you and Rich?" she asked as they stood in the entryway.

"Not at all," he said. "You'll see in a minute."

"But... "

"Shhhh," he hushed her. "Just watch and absorb." He turned to Rich, who was standing there expectantly. "Where's Julie?" he asked him.

"She's putting Kyla to bed," he said.

"I see," he said, nodding. "And tell me Rich, how often do you masturbate?"

"Paul!" Terry nearly screamed in horror. She turned to Rich to apologize for the behavior of her husband.

But Rich, undaunted, simply answered the question. "About three times a week on average," he said. "Usually after Julie has gone to bed."

"And what do you think about when you jack off?" he asked next.

"Well usually," he said, "I look at pictures on the Internet. But when I do have to do it without pictures, I think about women that I would like to have sex with."

Terry was looking at him in amazement.

"What women?" Paul asked him.

"I think about Terry sometimes," he said, giving her a friendly glance. "Or I think about the secretary at work. I've actually fucked her a time or two, she likes the way I look. Sometimes I think about Jennifer Lopez or Brittany Spears. They're real hot."

"So you think about Terry, do you?" Paul asked. "Do you ever think about Julie?"

He scoffed. "Are you kidding? Why would I think about her? She's my wife!"

Paul turned to Terry. "Is this starting to convince you?" he asked.

She looked from Paul to Rich and back to Paul again. "This is a set-up," she said weakly. "You guys arranged this in advance."

"A set-up?" he asked. "Do you really believe that? Do you really believe that Rich would tell such personal details and embarrass himself like that as a favor to me?"

"I'm going home," she said. "I don't want to deal with... "

"Stay here Terry," he said, not projecting. "I'm going to convince you that this is true." He turned back to Rich. "Do you ever cheat on your income taxes?"