I looked at the category "Loving Wives", and wondered. I feel sure this was intended to be stories of the love of one wife per story, and the plural "wives" was because there were many stories in the category. However, this is one chapter about several loving "wives". In the most pedantic sense therefore this is fits the "Loving Wives" category. And in any case I always struggle to decide on the most suitable category. Should this be "Group Sex"? Romantic? Erotic Couplings? Mature? I guess it doesn't matter - you've got here now and you can decide for yourselves. In any case, thanks for visiting and reading this far. I hope you enjoy the continuing saga of Michael's adventure into...whatever you call it!
*****
We form
a real connection
Chris took my hand and led me to a gym where five ladies were exercising gently (for them!) on exercise bikes, walking machines etc. They were wearing casual clothes, nothing especially erotic although any of these ladies would have looked look sexy wearing a sack. Chris told me that although I had wanted to spend time with the remaining ladies one at a time, these five had specifically asked if I would be willing to spend time with them as a group.
Chris had indicated that this would happen only if I agreed without persuasion. However, these five ladies had gone out as a group with five men at a time in what they called their previous life. They still felt very close, wanting to go out as a group with, well, just the one me. I fleetingly thought, somewhat inappropriately, of the silly saying "as happy as a dog with two dicks".
They had left their machines and were walking towards me. I pointed out that I was hardly likely to be able to provide them with an experience equivalent to five men at once.
No, they understood that, but still wanted to share their time with me. Chris told them that she felt three days shared with me was fair, and they seemed to accept that.
A very petite, blonde lady whose demeanour invited a comparison with a coiled spring with energy to burn asked Chris if it would be OK if the six of us spent their time away from the group.
"Where do you have in mind?"
"We'd like to borrow the bus and drive down to Khasan where the borders of Russia, China and North Korea meet."
"Why?"
"We want to take Michael away with us for a while. Did you know that where Russia borders China there the times zones are three hours apart? There's not really much around to look at in any direction so we'll have to live in the bus, but we thought we'd like to see that point where the three countries meet. What we really want is to be alone, really alone, with Michael."
I could see that Chris was battling with the competing factors, wanting to trust the ladies who may not have given her much cause for trust, but worried about losing some of her group again. And perhaps me.
Taking my courage in my hands I told Chris that I trusted these ladies not to betray her trust, and after a few more moments she okayed the trip. I could see that she was going to have a nervous wait until we returned, but this was a bridge she was going to have to cross sooner or later anyway.
The five ladies surrounded me and I felt like a prisoner again as they escorted me out and onto the bus. There was nothing in their demeanour that could have been described as at all threatening, but a frisson of fear ran down my spine. Was I about to be kidnapped a third time in (relatively) quick succession? Even the smallest of these ladies, the one who had spoken to Chris, looked capable of physically subduing me with no difficulty if necessary. On the other hand, she was lovely enough for me to follow, regardless of risk, to the ends of the earth (which, by the way, seemed to be where they had in mind).
One of the ladies sat in the driver's seat while the other four took me to the bed towards the back of the bus. The petite lady spoke to me - she was still the only one of the five who had yet spoken.
"We have a difficulty. We want to give you something practical to make up for what we did to you before, but we don't know how. The only thing we can give you is sex, and you have getting plenty of that...maybe too much? The best idea we could think of would be that if you are getting tired of the constant sex, we could give you a holiday."
The first thought to cross my mind was a little frustration that these ladies seemed to have missed the point. After a moment however, I decided that even if they had missed the point, their mistake was understandable. I told the four around me that we should enjoy the drive for a while, but that at some time when a break was suitable I'd like to speak to all five together.
For the next two hours we drove through fairly poor country, while four ladies sat around me, clearly wanting to speak, but seemingly inhibited by the requirement to be fair to the driver or perhaps my saying that I wanted to talk to all five together. It was certainly not unpleasant, but there was a clear sense of anticipation. The road was reasonable but the scenery, although green, was low and monotnous.
After two hours we pulled off the road within sight of the first town I had noticed since leaving Vladivostok. The driver walked back to join us, and told me that we were half way there. I thought briefly "halfway to nowhere", but then decided I had higher priorities than sarcasm.
I sat on the floor while the five ladies sat in a row on the edge of the bed. I was looking up at them, which was what I wanted. I told them that they owed the brigade nothing, owed me nothing, for what had happened a few days ago. Our little society was learning how to cope with circumstances that no-one had ever dealt with before. Or at least no-one that we knew of.
We were making up our rules as we went along. The brigade had kidnapped other men previously but these previous times had not been beneficial for anyone and had placed the brigade at risk of reprisals or prosecution. The brigade had taken a further risk by kidnapping me, and that had created a major improvement in my level of happiness in several ways, and I felt it had improved life for the brigade. Viewed in that context my second kidnapping could be seen as another attempt to improve life. An attempt which had not been successful. However, it had caused no damage that could not be repaired, and in fact the only remaining damage was the confusion and guilt felt by some of the people involved. And we had all learned from the experience. There was nothing to forgive, no need for penance.
And if there was a need for forgiveness, I forgave them. I loved everyone in the brigade, and wanted to share my life, my fortunes with them. What I wanted was for them to feel loved and to have the opportunity to do whatever they wanted with me. If they wanted to do something for me, they should enjoy their time with me.
"That's all very well," the driver replied, "But what if our need is to be used like cheap slut by a man who wants a quick fuck? We have been rejected by Russian men for so long that we need to feel wanted, not to force ourselves on a man. Don't you fancy us? Are we not up to your standards?"
I shouldn't have been surprised; this was merely a summary of what others had been trying to tell me since I had first been captured. It was just so alien to any experience I had had with women before that moment. So how did I convince them?
