Chapter 8

"Hi Joseph, it's Sarah. You won't believe what happened last night. You were in my bedroom last night and it wasn't a dream I don't think."

Joseph had put Carol on hold on the complicated phone his father installed in his study necessitated by the complex negotiations or crisis resolutions often involved in his work when Joseph received Sarah's call, so he put the phone into conference mode and asked her to repeat what she had just said. Carol excitedly told Sarah of her similar experience and after they got specific with their descriptions, they introduced themselves to each other. Meanwhile, Joseph dialed Candice from a third line, and when she picked up, asked her if she had experienced a similar event the night before.

"I was thinking of calling you about it, but it kind of freaked me out," said Candice. "My girlfriend was staying over and she was asleep when your image came to me and got me so excited I woke her up and had her strap on a dildo she had just bought us and had her fuck me with it and it made me cum so hard she couldn't wake me up from unconsciousness for a couple minutes worrying she had put me in a coma, the silly woman, but when I came to I got a little guilty feeling sweep through me that it wasn't her that had made me cum so hard but you, and that didn't make any sense either because, of course, you weren't there."

He put her into the conference call, and the three young women continued their discussion for several minutes, Joseph mostly listening in, asking pointed questions occasionally about their specific feelings or the order of disappearance of his ghost.

"When can we get together and do some astral projecting ourselves?" asked Candice, the one who had gone without an actual flesh pole fucking her into oblivion the longest.

"I have to work tonight," said Joseph. The desperate women created a chaotic choral mass of words as they simultaneously expressed their frustration. "But I have tomorrow free."

The mass of overlapping words, excited instead of frustrated, evolved into coherent conversation which moved back into frustration. They had nowhere safe to meet.

"I know the perfect place, but I don't know if its owner would accept the situation, she being for some reason devoutly devoted to me and quick to be jealous," said Candice.

"Hasn't she seen your new work?" asked Sarah.

"You mean my crazy portrait of Joseph fucking the universe? No, I've been replacing it with a portrait of her I've been working on when she's around and hiding the Joseph canvas in the midst of the others, but when I start on my orgy sculptures, it's going to be difficult to hide and I may lose her unless she snaps out of her possessiveness, which I don't understand anyway; she is the most beautiful woman I have ever met and could have anyone, male or female, kissing her feet or her perfectly shaved pussy or cute little tits with their massive hard sensitive nipples. Hey Joseph, I think you've turned me into a sex maniac!" Candice laughed, joined by the two young women.

"Orgy sculptures?" asked Joseph.

"I'll show you next time you come visiting," said Candice, "which I hope is soon."

"If you are willing to risk it, I have a plan," said Joseph. "What if I come over around noon tomorrow, and you invite your girlfriend? Maybe if we meet and I explain to her my philosophy and you tell her your experience of it and its profound effect on your work and show her your masterpiece which I don't know if it's your best work but is the best I've seen which is saying a lot, she might be swayed into letting us use her space and perhaps even join us: the more the merrier."

"You bad mad monk," exclaimed Sarah, "you cocky SOB, you think you can transform a devout lipstick lesbian? Isn't that what she is, Candice?"

"I think she may have had some traumatic events in her life swearing her off men forever," said Candice. "She's never told me, but she is stunningly beautiful, and I wouldn't be surprised if some ogre of a relative couldn't resist when she was very young. It's a terrible thing to think, but I wouldn't put it past men."

"We could make it clear no man would touch her," said Joseph.

"If she could be that trusting and she doesn't even trust me with I guess some reason."

"Are you feeling guilty?" asked Sarah.

"Maybe I should, but I don't. When we fucked last night after the ghost of Joseph fucked me, I went through the guilt and found it wanting. I'm young and free and capable of loving many people and experiencing incredible, mind blowing, intensely exciting moments and bringing those moments to those I love and I don't need any restraints at this point even if it means losing her though I hate the thought of losing her; I do love her."

"What's her name?" asked Carol.

"Natty," said Candice, "short for Natalie. She's mulatto with amazing genes: her white mother was a model and her father is a sax player and a sex player, handsome as her mother is beautiful who Natty found out about when she was thirteen and ran away and found him and confronted him and ended up hanging out with him and his band, running away from home to tour with them. She ended up writing a play about the experience, mostly about different levels of estrangement from creative parents because she ended up becoming best friends with daughters and sons of the musicians who had various relationships with their parents from complete estrangement to close knit families willing to hang together despite the frequent travels of their fathers. The Children's Theater is producing the play which is how I met her; when they workshopped the play this summer, Jordan met her and brought her to the Rifle Sport gallery when they were opening a group show of young women's art in which I had a couple paintings, and we hit it off immediately."

"I have to get ready for work," said Joseph. "I'll see you at noon tomorrow. If the others want to swing by Candice's a couple hours later with Adam and Jordan if you want to call them, Sarah, then we can either head to Natty's or just hang out."

"A gathering of disciples?" Sarah suggested wryly. "Seriously though, Joseph, why don't you bring any of your writings or notes about your Zen in the bedroom philosophy and if we can't work on it with our bodies, we could work on it with our minds."

"Okay. I'll leave the lines open until after I shower. Carol needs to know where Candice lives."

When Joseph arrived at work, he encountered a changed Harriet. He had never seen her so excited and not in her usual nervous way; her center was calm yet her excitement was palpable and she was happy. Even in her desperate search for a place where the other workers in the restaurant or the customers couldn't see or hear her with him hugging and kissing him, she still seemed centered. Finally they were in the dishwashing area, Harriet asking the young man to give them a minute; she trusted him to keep it to himself unlike the rest of the staff; and immediately once alone she gave Joseph a strong hug and kissed him hard, their lips remaining together for a few seconds before releasing and Harriet told him she was in love, and when his surprise suggested she meant him she laughed and told him it wasn't him but Frank.

"You just met the guy," said Joseph.

"I know. It's crazy. I'm crazy about him. He's moving in. I've never met anyone like him, and that's a good thing."

"I hope it works out," said Joseph sincerely but with a tinge of doubt.

"Don't be so skeptical. Just be happy for me. But I guess we won't be having our weekly trysts anymore."

"That's fine. I'll miss them, but I have my hands full right now."

"You stud," she said, slapping him playfully on his ass.

"Unless you want some ménage à trois action."

"We talked about that. He told me he enjoyed it, but as a one time thing. I told him I had the fantasy, and it was fulfilled and I was happy to be exclusive with him."

They kissed one more time, their hands separating at the last moment before Harriet darted off.

Upon becoming conscious the next morning Joseph knew he should get up if he was going to be at Candice's in time to greet Natty when she arrived but nodded off for another half hour and when he awoke he still didn't feel the urge to hurry through his ablutions to get to Candice's. Part of the problem was not a problem at all; he figured he should be the one who arrived last so as not to seem at all the usurper of Natty's lover. The other part of the problem was exhaustion, having been going ever since Thursday afternoon when his mind shifted into a multiple foci awareness and his body had been through extended sexual activity which also brought the mind or the soul or the energy part of being human to periods of peak performance and between those moments was work and school and not much sleep, so he discovered a need to recuperate and began contemplating research to find a deeper form of meditation which could fully replenish his body, mind and soul if he wished to pursue his cosmic moments with such vigor while attending school and working full time. While mulling over these thoughts he remained relaxed in bed and it felt like the only place he wanted to be, though the mulling was slowly bringing him fully awake, slowly energizing his body, bringing him to a state of acceptance that he needed to arise and remove himself from the safety and comfort of his solitary bed and move towards more adventures of social, sexual and philosophical discoveries and expansions and derivations to hone his spiritual mapping of the pathway to perfect ecstatic bliss and infinite cosmic consciousness. By the time his naked feet pressed down from the weight of his walking body on the cold tile floor, he was ready for the day.

After knocking on the basement door leading into Candice's room, he waited patiently for it to be opened, continuing to contemplate the thoughts he had awoken to an hour before, and his patience was helpful, because the door was not opened for a couple of minutes. He heard voices loudly speaking, but the barrier muffled the specifics of the words. The moment the doorknob turned a wave of nerves hit him inexplicably in the solar plexus and spread throughout his body until an imaginary ghost of himself emerged from inside and ran away taking the nervousness with it.

Never in his life had he seen such a beautiful human being. Her eyes were a deep green flecked with brown, a rainforest canopy reflecting a sun breaking through clouds set above high cheekbones with a soft caramel skin stretched over them. Her nose was pronounced, with nostrils flattened out a little, a balance between an Indian princess and an Ethiopian queen. Her dark red lips were full. Her long thick dark brown hair kept unaided away from her beautiful face was a tangle of waves, thick curves intersecting, disappearing and reappearing, full of the motion found in an action painting where the eyes are led around to appreciate the movements and textures created for them. Her neck was slender and proud and regal like Nefertiti's. Despite a thick brown sweater shirt, he could see her shoulders were broad and high and her chest thrust out a little, not in a puffed up way, but with confidence. Her breasts were modest, but the brief lift of her shirt there was stirring in its subtlety. The shirt also showed a slight belly, bringing softness to the statuesque beauty. Her hips were perfectly rounded, neither wide nor narrow, and her tight jeans revealed perfection continuing down her thighs. His focus was only on her, no thoughts divided it, but it was divided in his exploration of this wondrous being, while keeping focus on her eyes, he was enjoying her body peripherally.

Watching her eyes, he saw them move from guarded to challenging to sadness to acceptance to curiosity to interest within a moment's time. The gaze ended with her doing a quick but thorough study of his body, returning to his eyes with a radiant smile in hers. "Come in, Joseph. You're late," she said mellifluously, with a twinge of a Midwestern nasality giving her an unexpected character and place enhancing flaw. She stepped away from the door so he could enter, closing and locking it behind him.

"I didn't think you'd mind," said Joseph, "and certainly Candice couldn't mind having time with you alone."

"We weren't alone really," said Natty. "You were here with her, making her a little nervous and distracted."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm Natalia Fredericks," she said, raising her hand to shake.

"I'm Joseph Solomon," he said, shaking her hand which was long and narrow and cool. "I thought you were Natalie."

"My father gave me my name Natalia, but I thought it was too pretentious, so I tell everyone its Natalie, Natty for short."

"So why did you tell me your true name? Am I pretentious?"

"Maybe, but I kind of like saying it, like it's a brief song, a name saying song like in Kabuki or something. But maybe it's the fact you are Joseph instead of just plain Joe."

"Oh, he's definitely a Joseph," said Candice, stepping out of the bathroom looking sexy and voluptuous in a v-neck t-shirt and an open paint stained smock and gym shorts that bared her rounded midriff. Her long straight blonde hair, usually tied in a pony tail to keep it out of the paint was loose and flowing over her shoulders. She came right up to Joseph and kissed him. At first he was uncomfortable in front of her lover, but the kiss lasted long enough for Joseph to give into it and he held her tight against him as their tongues battled, her belly pushing against his rising cock subtly rubbing it.

"Are you staying?" asked Candice breathlessly but with a mocking twist of the lips moments after the kiss. Joseph realizing he still had his coat and his backpack hanging on his shoulders.

Joseph looked over at Natty, who looked tense and shocked. "Do you want me to stay?" he asked Natty.

"It's not her choice," said Candice.

"Aren't you being cruel?" asked Joseph.

"I'm being me," said Candice. "I'm being real. I'm not going to hide my love from my love." She walked over to Natty and took her hand. Natty let Candice lead her, whether because of her state of shock or because she was attracted to Joseph and enjoyed seeing her lover kiss him Joseph didn't know. Candice brought her to a stack of canvases leaning against the wall and removed the largest one, carefully lifting it over the others. She replaced a painting of Natty which had been covered on the easel, but was revealed when it was replaced by Joseph's image. The painting of Natty was full of motion, Natty naked seeming to be pulling with all her might, her muscles taut with the effort, something not visible in a place in front of the painting, trying to pull it or her into the painting, the background full of dark expressionist colors portrayed a forest setting on a stage morphing into a "real" forest with birds and sinuous furry creatures, ferrets perhaps and a panther and an intricate spider web. Natty stared at Joseph's painting for several minutes, Candice standing beside her holding her hand while Joseph removed his backpack and coat and sat cross legged on the floor studying Natty's portrait.

"Does it frighten you?" Candice asked Natty. Natty was speechless. "I know there are many paths that lead down to the lesbian way with different obstacles guiding you, and my path couldn't be anything like yours, perhaps making me less of a purist against the opposite sex. Is there a predisposition? Are there certain psychological guides we all share like the nature of our parents; who is stronger and who is weaker and what is the nature of our attraction to them; the Oedipal or Electra complexes that form our mind sexually as signs leading us, or is it less subtle; signs that hit us over the head with our sexual purpose like being humiliated by boys and saved by girls or being abused by men who use us as their fantasy material without any sense of empathy for our trauma but only their single minded pleasure; a blinding pleasure where we are bloodied from the assault and left to die of horror, destroying the mind, killing it's ability to accept love from anyone bearing a penis, especially a penis that could get hard from not just touching us but imagining the touch, losing the possibility of getting anything but fright, no acceptance or reciprocation of love from half the population of the world? Does it frighten you? I know I'm no beauty. I have my beautiful aspects, but face it, Natty, I am a caterpillar, interesting and even colorful, maybe even tactilely fascinating, but earth bound and lumbering and nowhere near the wonder and beauty and transcendent magnificence of the butterfly which you must have become early on; the caterpillar to chrysalis moment must have happened in your mother's womb and when you were born you were already awe inspiring in your beauty where I settle for a life as an interesting caterpillar wondering if my innate nature to become a butterfly as beautiful as you can ever be achieved. Being this beauty and not just a wispy delicate beauty, but a powerful, strong, intelligent and innately sexual beauty with a body designed for sex brought you horror. You never told me, but it makes sense unless your sexual interests, like I said at the beginning, are innate, an odd gene passed through generations where aunts or great aunts had the lesbian gene become dominant and spent their life in other women's arms and no man's. So does Joseph's giant cock coming at you cumming at you ejaculating sperm horrify you?"

"Yes!" Natty screamed, collapsing on the floor in a fetal ball, tears pouring down her cheeks, sobs erupting from her mouth making her tightly held body tremble with each sobbing breath. Candice sat behind her, legs and arms wrapping around her so that Natty was contained within the smock.

"I'm sorry Natalie," whispered Candice, repeating it like a comforting mantra, rocking her like she was a baby needing to be eased away from the source of her sorrow.

Joseph didn't know what to do with himself. He felt shame in his fantasies of seeing beneath Natty's clothes, of tearing them away and revealing her astounding beauty in totality and touching it and licking it and loving it and fucking it, and he had been staring at her exquisite nakedness on Candice's canvas, lifelike yet distorted with expressionistic colors and made powerful in its abstraction through Candice's expression of love; love expanding the beauty of this intensely beautiful woman until it seized his heart, speeding the blood, making his whole body blush, and it didn't make him hard, he wasn't horny in the least, but his whole body and his soul was like a giant erection ready to explode from the breathtaking aesthetics and the manifestation of loving passion, but there could be no release, no full body ejaculation, so he looked away from the painting, quieting his breath and his blood through a meditation exercise until he could stand and walk away from the intense, painful intimacy of the two women near him. He walked over to Candice's stereo, looking for music as comfort, bringing the empty air a quality of softening the harsh edges of Candice's room, of making the air a pillow to be inside and lay back within. There were a couple of cassette tapes bearing Natty's last name, the first name being Lionel. One was titled "Lionel Fredericks Quintet in Japan with Strings," reminding Joseph of Natty's mentioning of Kabuki and how it seemed to bring a happy thoughtful expression to her face. After some sparse applause, the sound of a prolonged organ note began a quiet piece. It was joined by the same note played on various bowed instruments. Notes were added gradually by either the organ or one of the other instruments until a minor chord was formed, and notes in between kept being added until it was a cluster, creating a white noise which subtly ebbed and flowed and then abruptly stopped. A drum and cymbal tapped out a gentle, complicated rhythm, an upright bass began plucking instead of being bowed and a gentle, breathy melody played by the trumpet and tenor sax established the core of the song on which the rest of the piece worked off of, the strings and organ coming in at unexpected times with the slowly filling chord. Behind Joseph a soft, mellifluous laugh was heard.