If you are new to my Reluctant Psychic series, please consider starting from the beginning. The story, characters and events in this chapter will make more sense when given context from the preceeding chapters. If not, welcome back and I hope you enjoy the story.
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I awoke from my nap feeling more refreshed than I had in months. As the fog of sleep slowly lifted from me, my mind savored the pleasant dreams that were already fading. The dreams had been filled with music, warmth and silken caresses. I breathed in the rich scent of vanilla, which told me that the dream wasn't entirely a dream.
My arms were wrapped around Gwen's lush body, with one hand cupping a breast and the other resting on her smooth hip. My nose was buried in her hair and my lips were grazing her ear. I gently kissed her ear and hugged her to me. I realized as I pulled her towards me, that my semi-erect penis was nestled inside of her from behind. How she'd managed that without waking me, I have no idea.
As I hardened inside of her, Gwen let out a deep purring sound. She stretched one arm high over her head, twisting and stretching. She stretched her other arm, and continued her purring sound. Finally satisfied with her stretch, she turned her body from the hips, so that she could look at me without allowing me to slip out of her.
"Good morning, Gwendolyn," I said to her while giving her flushed cheek a kiss.
"Did we oversleep dinner?" she asked, with a slightly panicked look.
"I just meant... No, we didn't oversleep dinner."
I felt her squeeze my cock inside of her, as she closed her eyes and hummed to herself. After a few rhythmic squeezes, which left me as hard as ever, she stopped. She opened her bright grey eyes and looked at me. "I like waking with you inside me even more than falling asleep. But you always seem to fall out. This time I didn't let you," she said. Her smile turned bittersweet and she added, "but we don't have time for making babies, dinner will be ready soon."
"But no one's here, they all left," I said. I could feel Gwen's presence, but no one else. Then I realized I wasn't really feeling Gwen's presence, just the warmth of her body against mine and the strange and wonderful feeling I get deep inside after making love.
I vaguely wondered how long I'd been asleep, and when we had made love. Had I come again while I slept? I thought I remembered a second time, after Gwen had climbed back in bed with me. So it is possible that the house was full of people, and my powers hadn't recovered yet.
Gwen started rocking her hips and settling back into my embrace. Her deep throaty humming sent wonderful vibrations through me. The exquisite feel of her body soon had my thoughts on other things than how long I'd been sleeping. But just as I was beginning to thrust myself into her, she stopped again.
"I don't want to get ready for dinner," she said.
"Who says we have to?"
"You have to wear your tuxedo tonight. And take a shower, even though I like it when you smell like me or my sisters." Without another word she moved forward, making my cock slide from inside of her. She then made shooing gestures with her hands, and I felt compelled to head towards the bathroom.
Gwen hadn't called the other girls her sisters in quite a while, although she still called Betsy her sister, since legally they were both my adoptive daughters. Of course, I reflected, she also hadn't called me "Daddy" in a long time either. I worried that she might be regressing, as the psychologist had warned that she might.
"She's fine," I heard Anna say. I was so surprised that I almost slipped as I was stepping under the shower.
"Where have you been?" I asked the voice in my head.
"Even a man's schizophrenia needs a few hours to herself."
"You're not my schizophrenia," I thought to her. When she didn't answer, I said out loud, "I'm not crazy!"
I looked around as if I could find the voice that had plagued me for so long, or at least someone to tell me I'm not crazy. Suddenly the shower curtain parted and Gwen's face peeked through and said, "I laid out your tux on the bed." Just as quickly her face was gone again.
"Gwen?" When she didn't peek in again, I called, "Gwendolyn?" I wanted to ask her if she thought I was crazy, but realized how foolish a question that would be. I also wanted her to shower with me, if for no other reason than to keep me company.
I heard the toilet flush and Gwen peeked in the curtain again. "I like it when you call me Gwendolyn," she said with a beatific smile. This time her face didn't disappear so quickly. She must have understood that I wanted her to join me, since she said, "I like smelling like you and my hair will be too wet to eat dressed up."
I was having a bit more trouble parsing her grammar than usual, and without my powers I couldn't sense the meaning directly from her mind. She frowned at me for a moment, until I understood that if she showered with me, she couldn't get her hair dry in time to get dressed up for dinner. I mumbled, "Alright, I'll see you at dinner?"
"I love you," she said before disappearing again. It wasn't the answer I was expecting, it wasn't even the answer I was afraid of getting, but it made me smile. It more than made me smile; I began humming the song that Gwen had written for me. No, I realized, she had written it for us.
I had just finished the main theme of the song, which contained Gwen's musical equivalents for our names, and the other notes that felt like words when Gwen's faced appeared. She was laughing this time. "You aren't crazy, just silly. You should say it like this," she said before humming a slightly different melody. It became apparent that I had incorrectly conjugated the verb, since only a woman should hum it the way I had.
Her face disappeared again, only to reappear a moment later. "Now quit calling me back, I have to get ready!" I heard her bare feet quickly slap against the tiles and the door slam shut.
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Looking at myself in the mirror, I was pleased with what I saw. No so much my face or hair, as that I had managed to get into the new tuxedo without any of the girls helping me. It helped that there were detailed pictorial instructions on how to tie a bow-tie taped to the garment bag. I took a last swipe at my hair with a comb, before deciding I probably looked the best I could manage without help.
As I walked down the stairs, I kept expecting the feeling of loneliness to return. I thought it was because I knew Gwen was somewhere in the house, but that didn't feel like the right answer. As I crossed the marble foyer heading towards the dining room, I wasn't overwhelmed by the sharp click my new shoes made on the floor.
I was feeling even better as I passed the living room and saw that the signs of abandonment were gone. The room still wasn't occupied, but it appeared to have been cleaned rather than left behind. As I entered the dining room, I was greeted by soft music and an empty table.
I slowly walked towards my seat at the head of the table, wondering what Gwen had in store for me. As I began to sit down, I thought that she might need help carrying in the food, even if it were only peanut-butter sandwiches again. I thought I heard Gwen giggle, but the thought was as quickly gone as the supposed giggle.
I had only been sitting a moment before I heard the click of high heels coming from the hall. The pitch and temp of those high heels told me they weren't attached to Gwen, since Gwen chooses shoes for their sound more than their appearance. The thought that another one of my girls had come home, brought me to my feet before she appeared.
It was Betsy. She was dressed in a long black velvet cocktail gown complete with elbow length gloves and a black velvet choker. Her long brown hair cascaded about her bare shoulders in soft ringlets. For once, she even wore makeup, very understated, but it helped conceal that she had been crying not too long ago. But she wasn't crying when she saw me and my heart warmed to see a genuine smile light up her face as she walked towards me.
"I'm sor..." I started by her velvet clad finger pressed against my lips. She looked downward for a second and gave a slight sigh before composing herself.
"Not tonight," she said. She used her hand to guide my head down slightly so she could kiss my cheek. "Thank-you" she whispered, before withdrawing her lips and gentle breath from so near to my ear. I didn't manage to ask what I had done to deserve thanks, since I didn't believe it was for starting to say I was sorry about her father passing away, before she asked, "Are you going to make me stand all night?"
The manners I had learned as a child suddenly took over, and I moved quickly to pull out the chair for her. The girls had worked so hard to get me out of the habit, that it felt a bit strange. But it also felt really good, as if I were truly returning home.