*** Authors Note: Part 4 obviously picks up where Part 3 left off. While I make the suggestion to read from the beginning, a couple of refresher notes:
Characters previously introduced:
Phil - Main protagonist. Wealthy 40-something white male who reshaped his entire life following a workplace accident. Has had a lifelong tendency to act rather impulsively, sometimes with mixed results.
Stacy - Phil's physical therapist and friend.
Karen - Stacy's roommate.
Paul - Phil's live-in personal assistant. A minor character at most.
Phil, Stacy and Karen just erased the boundaries of any sort of normal, platonic friendship.
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I woke up in the middle of the night with a little bit of a chill. To my left and right I found that both Karen and Stacy had snuggled up under the blanket. It was a king size bed but, with 3 adults (and the one in the middle on top of the covers) I could see that each of the ladies was barely on the edge of the mattress; hardly comfortable. I inched my way off, careful not to disturb either of them, and made my way out into the main living area.
The microwave clock indicated that it was 4:47 in the morning. Though I have no idea what time it was that we finished our threesome and each collapsed into a deep slumber I know it wasn't possible for me to have gotten more than 2-3 hours of sleep. Hardly the makings of a restful night. That said, I felt oddly refreshed. Cold... but refreshed.
I went out onto the back patio and, as quietly as possible, opened up the hot tub and slid into the water, instantly I was enveloped in a warm bath that relaxed me and took that shiver away. Thankfully we had turned down the thermostat when we were in earlier and the water was the absolute perfect temperature. In my previous life I had an outdoor spa and had semi-frequently enjoyed its soothing powers when I couldn't sleep at night and, in my humble opinion, there was nothing better. Sure, there were some biologics making themselves known: a dog bark far in the distance, some bugs skittering along window screens; but otherwise it was deathly silent and peaceful. A perfect place to relax and think... or just relax without thinking.
Of course, my mind went almost immediately to activities of just a couple of hours past. I wanted to remember every single moment, every sensation, but I quickly got flustered with trying to juggle a barrage of imagery at the same time. It was too much to try and remember at once. I took a deep breath and allowed my mind to filter down to smaller specifics. The taste of Karen's wetness... the folds of Stacy's labia... the sensation of a warm mouth of my cock.
My mind drifted and my body continued to relax before I was surprised by the sound of a door slamming shut a couple of houses away. Looking into the distance the sky was starting to get brighter. Before I knew it, it would be morning.
I pondered what my next move should be. Go back to bed with both of them? Sleep on the couch? Make them breakfast? In the end I decided the best move was to "pull a Costanza" and leave on a high note. I retrieved and put my clothes back on, left a note on the kitchen counter and snuck out into the cool morning air.
Honestly, after warming up, the bike ride was just as enjoyable as the hot tub. There was very little traffic on the roads and it was smooth sailing all the way home.
... except when I got home it was not so smooth sailing after all.
To make a long story short, I had been robbed blind.
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To this day I am almost positive that it was Paul. A couple of things led me to that conclusion. First, there was no sign of forced entry and I was pretty sure I locked the door the previous evening when I left. Second, it had to have been the neatest robbery I had ever imagined. It was more like it was being scrubbed for a new owner. Nothing was left in the apartment from what I could tell. Finally, the couple of most damning bits of evidence. Security in the video shows bits and pieces of someone who had the same basic shape and size of Paul directing a group of guys in loading the material onto a truck in the underground garage. My apartment has almost direct access to the freight elevator which made it extremely easy to utilize. Also, the only thing left in the apartment was the key to the car that I had "given" to Paul and it was sitting on the kitchen counter. Finally, and probably most important, I never saw or heard from Paul again. Totally in my life one day, totally out the next.
When I spoke to the police and they did their investigation they found tons of prints around the house. All of them were for either myself, Stacy or Paul, all of them were expected. It was amazing to me that someone could orchestrate the packaging and moving of literally "every" item in my apartment in such a short period of time, but here I was, witnessing that it had happened. Had I not known better, Ashton Kutcher would have popped out of the shadows and I would have been the star of the first non-celebrity episode of Punk'd. They had taken items that had absolutely no easy "street" value at all, it made no sense really.
The police were up-front with me and told me that honestly, there was very little chance that I would get most, if anything, back. They were under-staffed and up to their teeth in violence, drugs or "revenue generating" activities (ie, traffic tickets) and had very little time or resources to spare for a case like mine, even with how all-encompassing and somewhat bizarre it was. Their experience had led them to believe that my belongings had most likely already been split into different carrier trucks and vans and were now headed for flea-markets, chop-shops and Craigslist/eBay listings all around the American southeast. Of course it was a pain, I had to immediately get on the phone and put all of my banks and credit cards on notice for additional activity. I was pretty careful with things like cyber-security but one never knew ways that information could be pulled. In the end though, after all the paperwork was completed, all the police work was done, all insurance money paid out, I just had to start over with new stuff. The biggest benefit of being wealthy is really not ever having to start completely over, there are plenty of safety nets for us.
As I had felt I was mostly settled into my new community and also wasn't planning on having anyone living in my apartment, I went out and got what I considered to be the basic essentials: A bed, some clothes, a couch, a TV and a new massage table. I figured I could pick up other items as I needed them and was in no rush to "fill" the space. To be honest, there was somewhat of a liberating feel with the entire process. It was like I was starting over yet again, this time with a functioning body.
Stacy did not quite have the same "whatever" attitude that I did. She could not believe that I left an empty house as a reminder that I had been totally ripped off. She said that she would either move or have filled it as quickly as possible in an attempt to help herself forget. She found it weird that I really didn't care.
In the few weeks after the robbery I found that I was spending less and less time in the apartment. First, I was riding my bike more than ever, enjoying the outdoors as much as possible. Second, I was spending more and more time with Stacy and Karen at their house. Unfortunately not in the same sexual way as we had that first night, but as friends, just generally hanging out. This is not to say that I had not had sex with either one of them. Stacy and I had enjoyed our status as "friends with benefits" on a few different occasions. It had all been pretty vanilla though each encounter had been as pleasurable as one could expect with a beautiful partner you have a physical and emotional connection to.
It was after one of these sessions that Stacy first made her proposal: she wanted both herself and Karen to move in with me.
For her it made perfect sense, her schedule was almost full with clients at the gym in the building. While she did worry that always being in the building would be a bit of a drag, she figured if she could save more time it would actually give her more opportunity to get out.
For Karen it was a little different as she owned the house they lived in. But, she hated it. She hated being tied to it. She wanted to have a bit more freedom with what she was going to be doing with her time and resources. While owning was a better investment long term, she figured she could invest the money she was putting into her house and come out on top anyhow.
This posed a bit of a dilemma for me. I had a decent sized 3-bedroom apartment, obviously enough room for all of us. However, only one was a master and the other two shared a bathroom. While I know the girls were currently doing that exact thing I didn't know how they would react to my bathroom being so much larger than theirs. I also didn't know if I wanted to give up my free space and my freedom.
IMPULSE: Though the concerns were bounding around in my head, I still answered "yes" immediately. The girls were my two best friends. I had a lonely apartment that I was rarely at and a way to fill it up with happiness. I certainly knew that there would be potential hurdles, more opportunity for arguments and conflict given more time together... but I was willing to take those risks and believe they thought it through as well.
RESULT: Based on the ultra-fast process of Florida real estate, Karen had the house sold and both of the girls had moved into the apartment pretty much exactly 6 weeks later. I went from a totally empty home to one that was bursting at the seams with belongings. But, honestly, it was nice. It was a pleasure to continue my fresh start with my new family. Plus, one of the things that we figured out how to bring along was the hot tub. With the large glass wall in my living room it offered the perfect opportunity to keep it as well as have it indoors. After consulting with the building engineer and getting approval, it got a place of honor right in the living area and I can tell you that I was very much looking forward to relaxing in it while taking advantage of my ocean view and the TV at the same time.
There were certain things to get used to when it came to no longer having a personal assistant and adding roommates. The biggest was that there was someone in the apartment, seemingly all the time. Before there was peace, there was quiet. It was often the case that that was no longer the truth. This is not to say that I didn't enjoy having Stacy and Karen around, I did. Though, while I loved the energy and warmth their presence brought to an otherwise empty space, it was also nice to be alone sometimes.
There was also the food in the house. Previously, I didn't need to worry about it. Paul had a budget and kept the fridge (and me) filled. I never had to think about it. I thought about hiring a housekeeper and or assistant (a completely superfluous consideration as I had all the time and physical ability in the world) but the girls shot me down, saying that they didn't feel comfortable with the prospect after what had happened with Paul.
The final thing was nudity.
