Fantasia

"Good game today, Eric," I say as I reach across the net to shake his hand.

"It's the best I have seen you play in a while, Peter," he replies.

As we walk away together, Eric asks, "How are you holding up, I mean without Amy?"

"It's been hard, but I am slowly sliding into a new routine. To be honest, sex is my worst problem. I am not ready to start dating and I am getting a little too acquainted with my hand these days."

He looks around for a moment, like someone will be spying on us, and then says softly, "Let me give you an address. Tell them I sent you. Just don't tell Lily, she doesn't know about it."

He writes an address on the back of one of his business cards.

"A whore house? I don't think I would be comfortable - "

"It's not for a prostitute. I can't really explain what it is. But trust me, it's what you need. And I guarantee you will be happy with going."

I look at him skeptically.

"Have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Well, let's start with the trip to the lesbian bar our freshman year. And then the -"

"Okay, so I made a few bad calls. But this one isn't. It will cost you five hundred dollars though."

"For five hundred bucks, it better be good."

"They do have a money back guarantee, so if you don't like it, you pay nothing."

I look at him one more time and he nods his head vigorously.

"I will think about it."

I grab some fast food on the way home. When I get home, I look around an empty house. Life has sucked since I lost Amy six months ago. I somewhat lied to Eric; I am sliding into a routine, but one of sorrow and despair each night.

I feel Eric's card in my pocket.

Fantasia, 1723 Wisteria Lane

I type the address into my phone. Hmm, I never noticed that street there before. But it's not very far.

What the hell. I am driving myself insane streaming TV and jerking off every night. I can afford the five hundred dollars.

Wisteria Lane is a narrow winding path that winds up a hill; A hill that is otherwise completely overgrown with vegetation. One that seems completely out of place in an otherwise overbuilt region of the city. At the top of the hill is 1723, an old mansion that looks rather ramshackle. The only building on the entire road.

I go up and knock on the door.

It opens and I hear a voice say, "You may enter."

"I was sent here by Eric Purlois," I say.

"I know," the same voice says.

How the hell does he know that?

As the door closes, I see a well dressed man, probably in his sixties, step out from behind the door. He looks like a butler in a movie from the 1930's.

"How does this work?" I ask.

"It works by magic," he says, "But what I think you mean, sir, is what is the process. You give us five hundred dollars and we give you an experience you will remember."

"But what is the experience?"

"That depends on you. It will be what your heart desires and your body needs. And if it isn't, we refund your money, fully."

Hmm. They really are being obscure here. But I am intrigued. And if it is all bullshit, I get my money back.

"Do you take ApplePay?"

"Of course, sir. The magic may be ancient, but the money is very modern."

He reaches in a drawer in the desk we are standing by and pulls out a pay device and I tap on it, hearing the satisfying bing as the payment is accepted.

We walk further down the hallway and stop in front of a door. He says, "Your destiny lies within. You must choose one of the three doors inside. You must return immediately when you hear the gong. Do you understand?"

"Yes, but how do I know which door?"

"The doors will give you a way to decide, but it must be your decision and yours alone. I cannot come past this door. And you must leave your phone and watch out here. The technology will interfere with the magic."

Jesus, they play up the spookiness factor here. I hope Eric was right for once that this place is worth it.

I walk through the door, into a very small room with old wooden paneling. Not much larger than an average closet. Each wall is almost completely filled with a door that appears completely normal, except each has an oversized old-fashioned keyhole in it.

Peering through the first key hole feels a bit kinky, but I try. Hey, I am a voyeur at heart.

Inside is an impossibly large room. There are tile mosaics on the wall and a fountain in the middle. All around are beautiful women in silks through which I can just barely glimpse the delights below. There must be twenty women, most lying or sitting on some sort of chaise lounge. One woman, bathing in the fountain, is nude. The women range in size and shape, but all are stunningly beautiful.

The geometry is impossible but the women are amazingly alluring. I almost choose immediately. But I would regret not knowing what my other choices were.

I stand up and turn to peer through the second keyhole, directly opposite the door I used to enter here a moment ago.

The geometry of the harem may have been impossible, this one is far more incomprehensible. While the sun had already set before I came to Wisteria Lane, it is sunny through the keyhole. I can see blue sky above. I can feel the warmth through the keyhole against my cheek,

Below the sky, I see green grass and a set of stands. In front of the stands, a cheerleader squad is warming up. One young woman does a leap and her skirt flies up, revealing that she is not wearing anything underneath.

Maybe another day, I think, and move on to the third door.

As I lean down to this keyhole, I feel a cool breeze coming through the keyhole. And I get a faint floral whiff. This is another doorway to the outdoors. Or rather an outdoors.

A young woman is sitting by the edge of a creek, under a tree with pink blossoms (a cherry tree maybe?). She has golden hair flowing over her shoulders and is wearing a simple blouse and long skirt. Although she looks nothing like Amy, I am somehow reminded of her. As I am peeking, she turns to me and smiles and waves me towards her.

This is what I need tonight. I open the door and step through, into a meadow on a beautiful spring day, late morning I would guess. I can smell the fresh growth in the grass, the blossoms in the trees.

I close the door behind me and feel the knob slip from my hand. Turning to look, I see it is gone. Not just the door, but the wall and anything else connecting me back to my world. I step back through to where I just came from, but it is just more meadow. Oh well, remember to listen for the gong.

I turn back and head for the beautiful woman sitting under the tree. The air is pleasant but the sun feels warm. There is a slight cool breeze blowing off the brook that gurgles below her bare feet.

I sit down in the soft grass beside her and she says "Welcome to Miralea, Peter. I was hoping you would come today. My name is Nina."

Truthfully, she spoke in a lyrical voice, almost singing, using words I have never heard before, but I understand every bit of it, somehow.

We talk together for a while. I tell her of Amy's cancer, of the pain she went through, of her fighting for her life, fighting for our life together. Nina holds my hand while I cry as I remember the funeral. I tell her of how Amy and I met, how we fell in love, of our hopes and dreams.

She tells me about her life in the village, which is just over the hill. She is waiting for her true love. But until then, she lives a simple life. She does chores in the morning and then waits here by the tree until her love arrives. Each evening she goes back to the village and shares in the communal supper and then helps clean up after. She was told that her love would come this spring.

I ask her how she will know her love. "That's easy. I am looking at him."

I look at her and see the love in her eyes. I lean over and kiss her. She returns my kiss eagerly.

We fall backwards, lying on our sides together on the soft grass, still kissing. I roll over on to my back, pulling her with me, squeezing her tightly as she lies on top of me.

I pull an arm back from around her to rub a breast through the thin fabric of her blouse. I squeeze my handful of her for a moment but then she pulls away and sits up. Taking both hands, Nina lifts the shirt over her head, exposing two beautiful mounds, perfectly proportioned, each tipped with a small dark red nipple.

I sit up under her and take a nipple in my mouth and suckle. Her skin tastes sweet and just a bit salty. With a wave of her hand and a flip of her head, she moves her long hair to her back, giving me access to her other breast. I move to this newly exposed nipple while my hand replaces my mouth on her other side.

She softly whimpers as I tend to her chest, watching intently every move I make. Finally, she pushes me back down and begins to kiss me again. As she does, she slides off me sideways and brings her hands down to my waist. Once there, her hands unfasten my pants. I lift my hips as she slides them down my legs.

She breaks off the kiss and turns towards my midsection. She unbuttons my shirt and gently runs her fingers along my abdomen before settling in higher on my chest. I am now moaning, eyes closed, focusing on the sensation of her finger nails gently scraping along through the light fur of my chest hair.

She pinches both my nipples at once and I yelp loudly, in exquisite pain and pleasure. Before I even regain my breath, she has engulfed my shaft in her mouth. With my breath back from my yelp, I start moaning again, this time louder and deeper. She slides up and down a half dozen times before pulling off completely, drawing a disappointed sigh from me when she abandons my member.

My disappointment is short-lived. She slides her hips over me, impaling herself on my now rock hard cock. She is apparently wearing nothing under her skirt, nothing blocks my slide into her. My only regret is the long skirt hides the explicit action from my eyes.

I let her totally control the pace as she sits upright on me, slowly rocking on and off my pole. My cock has not felt the inside of a pussy since the start of Amy's last run of chemo. I am washed by a momentary wave of grief as I remember that, but the feeling here and now is too good to ignore and the grief passes.

After several minutes of intercourse, she is starting to whimper again and starts rocking more feverishly, almost violently. I am losing my control and start to thrust upwards into her. She lets out a loud groan as my own release comes. This is my first unconstrained orgasm in a year and I can feel the emotions draining from me.

She leans forward to kiss me, falling softly onto my chest. We kiss passionately again, my arms back to wrapping around her. My member stays in her for several minutes, but diminished, it slides out eventually, marked by a gentle pop and a soft but disappointed "ooh" from her lips.

We lie together for maybe an hour before I roll her over onto her back. I slide her skirt down her legs and off, exposing her privates, her lower lips softly encased in a light golden fleece. I spread those lips and lick the inner sanctum before bringing my full attention to the center of her pleasure. Several minutes of oral attention brings her to a second climax.

Once she has recovered, I climb up on her, sliding my refreshed manhood once again into her. It is another delirious ten minutes of intercourse before I bring her a third orgasm, as I once again fill her with my seed.

It is my turn to lower myself onto her so we can kiss once again. Our kisses are not as long this time; she pushes me off and walks around the tree, coming back with a small basket. Opening it up, she pulls out a small loaf of bread and a hunk of cheese.

We sit cross-legged, nude and facing each other, as we tear off pieces of the sustenance and feed each other. Once the bread and cheese have been consumed, Nina reaches into the basket a second time, pulling out a small bunch of grapes. She pulls the grapes off one at a time, occasionally feeding herself, but mostly feeding me the sweet treats.

A third request of the basket yields a small bottle which turns out to be a delicious red wine, made from a grape whose flavor I do not recognize. We take turns taking drinks from the bottle, until it, too, is fully consumed.

We lie back on the grass in silence, fully sated in every way. We hold each other's hands between us as we watch the clouds lazily pass by in an otherwise deep blue sky. I realize that this is the first time I have been unequivocally happy since that first visit to the oncologist eighteen months ago. The memory of that visit casts a quick pall over the moment.

As if she knew I needed more, Nina rolls over towards me and lies her head on my shoulder. I wrap an arm around her back, her arm across my torso, holding me lovingly. We lie a while longer, but soon we fall fast asleep, still clinging tightly to each other.

I am awoken by the feeling of her tongue on my shaft, Soon my entire cock is consumed by her mouth. Just as I think I am about to erupt, she stops and pulls off

"You are awake now. We just have time," she says.

We had not spoken for sometime and I had forgotten the beauty in her voice, the enchantment of her magical and mysterious words.

Nina smiles at me and crouches over my chest. I am staring straight into her golden mane. She reaches her left hand down and spreads the gates, bringing my gaze into her most inner place. Her second hand reaches down and she begins to pleasure herself, both for herself and to indulge my innate voyeurism.

This is the most intimate sharing a woman can offer to a man. Opening herself physically and emotionally, indulging his desires.

I watch the special beauty of her climax. The tortured lines of her face as she experiences the release. Her breasts heaving as she sucks in the sweet air around us. The tautness in her abdomen. The glistening of the drops of her juices on her lips so close to me. The pulsing of her canal, longing for something it does not have at this ultimate moment.

She swings around and gives me a short but love-filled kiss before turning further to straddle my midsection, facing away from me. I watch as she slowly sheaths my sword in her. The feeling is divine and the vision surpasses anything from all the porn I have watched over the last few months to find some escape.

I am lost with lust as I drive into her. She seems to have carried her passion from her previous release and after several ecstatic minutes of being joined, we climax together one more time.

She turns around and kisses me again and then says, "Our time today is almost gone. I know we will see each other again. But I must give you one more thing."

She pulls my left hand to her mouth and gives it a gentle kiss and then, seemingly out of the blue, bites the flesh between my thumb and forefinger.

"Ouch!"

I look at with her surprise.

"I need you to remember me when you go. To know that this was real. That I am real."

Just then I hear the gong.

"Hurry, you must go now," she sings to me.

I quickly gather my clothes. I can see the door materializing again. I also notice the sun is approaching the horizon. I look back at my lovely Nina. She smiles to me and says, "I will be waiting for you my love. Hurry."

I turn back and open the door and see the small room with the wooden paneling and the four doors. I step through and close the door behind me.

But I have to look one last time. Peeping through the key hole again, I watch Nina as she pulls her clothes back on and heads up the hill, pinks and purples starting to streak the dimming sky.

I sigh and pull my own clothes on. I notice the tooth marks clearly visible on my left hand. Once I am dressed, I open the door back into the hallway I originally entered the building. The butler is standing there, waiting, holding my phone and my watch for me. I look at my watch. Exactly one hour has passed out here.

"I assume you were satisfied by your experience, sir?"

I nod and say, "How can this be real?"

"It isn't. Magic is not real. Everyone knows that. But still..."

He taps my left hand briefly and I look at the bite mark again.

He escorts me to the front. As he opens the large oaken door, he says, "I hope we will see you again. I think she would be very disappointed otherwise."

I walk back into the night air. I can see the same skyline. Hear the same traffic as usual. The world seems just the same. I look at the indentation on my hand. But I am not, I think.

As I drive home, I feel a point of light breaking through the darkness that has pervaded my heart for the last six months.