Gateway Ch 03

CHAPTER 3: THE GATEWAY BOYS

My eyes cracked open the next morning to the filtered light of a clear sky. The sheers softly move on the breeze. The muted sounds of my isolated property filter in through the open balcony French doors. I tentatively searched the room without moving my head. I saw nothing except the furnishings of my bedroom. I cautiously lifted my head and turned my body to search further. I still saw nothing. Of course, all seven could be here and I wouldn't know it unless they materialize.

I throw off the sheet that partially covered me and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I rubbed my eyes, ran my fingers through the rat's nest of my hair, and stretched my arms wide and high. Did last night really happen? Or, was it merely another in a long line of increasingly erotic dreams that can seem surprisingly real? I push up from the bed and took a couple of steps necessary to the open balcony door.

"Ooooo ... no question about it. Last night definitely happened." The first short steps reveal soreness of the insides of my thighs and my pussy. I bend forward to investigate to find my pussy red and still inflamed. As I delicately step out onto the balcony, feeling the welcome cool, soft breeze over my skin, I venture tentative touches with my fingers. My nipples and clit are also very sensitive. But even the soreness can't stop the rush of reawakened arousal the memory brings with it.

Shower or coffee? I glance back into the room to the bedside table where my smartphone lies with a blank screen. I move back in and tapped a finger on the screen. Without bothering to tap in my security code, I see '9:37'. Okay ... coffee. If I smell, it's just me.

I grab my cozy, warm robe from the hook just inside the bathroom and pad barefoot down the stairs. A big, empty house all to myself and I am now finding myself looking into every shadow and reflective surface, wondering if I really am alone. In the kitchen, I fill the coffee maker and turn it on before searching for something to appease a hungry body yearning for carbs. I take a plate down from the cupboard and start grabbing things handy: two hard eggs, two slices of cinnamon raisin bread, and a large scoop of sliced fruit. I take the plate and a huge mug of fresh coffee back through the house to the front porch. Close to 10:00 AM and I am still in a robe and just starting with breakfast. So much for adhering to a routine.

I am still sitting on the porch but with a second mug of coffee when I hear a car crunching on the gravel of the drive. The trees and curves of the long drive to the small road mean I can hear an approaching vehicle before seeing it. I watch from over the mug at the gap in the trees where the drive emerges from the trees as I sip. I haven't yet felt I have the kind of acquaintances that might just drop by. Plus, I am far enough from the town that dropping by isn't a casual thing.

I smile to myself, confirming a likely suspicion when I see Marge's shiny, white SUV emerge. She is a bit nosey and probably gossip-central for the town but she is good-hearted. As I expect, she is soon standing on the top step of the porch without an invitation. Small towns. Everyone's a friend or pretending to be and everyone assumes to be welcome.

"Marge, what brings you out this way?"

Seeing me brings her to a stop. "Oh, Lexy ... I thought you were early to rise. Am I too early?"

I laugh and use the mug to indicate the chair on the other side of the little table. "No, just overslept. Such a nice morning, I haven't kicked myself into action, yet." I know she wasn't 'in the neighborhood'. There is no neighborhood out here, just country. I can see in her manner, though, that something is on her mind. "So ... what does bring you out here?" Maybe in small towns, you are supposed to ease into the real reason for visiting, but my habits are still big city.

She fidgets before finally half turning to fully face me as I continue to sip from the mug. I notice my crossed leg has parted my long robe and completely exposed the thigh nearly to the top. It brings a flash of memory from last night and not just Jacob and me but the other boys crowded at the foot of the bed watching. I squeeze my thighs together and feel the tingle ... and also the sensitivity of my well-used pussy. While my mind wanders to more interesting things than what she might have to discuss, I almost miss what she is saying.

"... what you were asking yesterday about Mr. Hardaway." I look at her with raised eyebrows hoping that will have her continue and I can catch up. "You seemed interested in specifics so I dug a little deeper in my files. I found some details I had forgotten." She was searching my face. There was something she was weighing before continuing. I gave her the raised eyebrows, again. She shifted slightly. "I said he had been committed after the fire but I know why ... or, at least, what was reported. It apparently caused quite a stir back then. People from town would occasionally come to help clean up and they were amazed at how much he was accomplishing by himself when he seemed so helpless and lost when they were there ... here. Hardaway continued to insist that it wasn't him but his boys. They were the ones who were doing all the work. He said his boys were taking care of him, cleaning up, and making sure he was never alone." Her fingers fussed with her dress. "He thought he was seeing ghosts. Not only ghosts but ghosts that could move material things. Even then they knew ghosts don't really exist and they certainly wouldn't be able to move material things, certainly nothing the size and substance of burned out buildings."

That fit with what Jacob said yesterday. The boys were being concerned but Hardaway's mind lost the filters he should have applied around the townspeople. Their efforts to care for him ended up the reason for losing him. I need to use filters myself. "Ghosts, huh?"

Marge gazes intently at me, challenging my own ability to hide the secrets of Gateway House. "You've not experienced anything like that, have you?" I used the coffee to hide any reaction. As I sip and glance at her over the rim of the mug, I give her a simple shake of the head. She breathes out. I hadn't noticed that she was holding it. "Good. We all like you, Lexy. We wouldn't like to see you leave like the others." Clearly, that last part was a mistake as her hand went to her mouth and she tries to cover it with an awkward smile. I show real curiosity without saying anything. Marge is one of those people who can't stand quiet periods and will fill it until you stop her. "Well, all I mean is ... well, some of the other buyers of the house ... you know it has been empty a lot ... some of them ... well, some have complained about ... noises ... things happening ... feeling like they were watched, like someone was in the house with them." She gives a nervous laugh that she may have thought sounded dispelling but it just sounded nervous.

"Ghosts? Here?" She watches me nervously. I smile at her and pat her hands on her lap. "Ghosts in my house? That's what brought you out here?" I smile warmly, reassuringly. "I assure you, dear, I've been here for weeks now, right? I love this house." I looked around me as if just taking it in while I squeezed my thighs together, again, and feel the effects of last night. Then, a little louder but not too much louder, "I love everything I have experienced in this house." That, of course, wasn't meant for her, but she took it reassured.

After rinsing the plate and refilling the mug to take up to the bedroom, I turn and step right through the smokey appearance of Jacob. I almost drop the mug as I realize too late what had just happened.

"Jeez ... Jacob! You guys can't do that! I don't hear you ... there's nothing to hear the way you glide around just off the floor."

He slowly materialized and I could see he was properly contrite. "Sorry, Ma'am. We tried not to interact with the other people. Even then we ended up scaring them, I'm afraid. I really am sorry, Ma'am."

As he became fully material, I reach out and touch his arm to reassure him. Feeling the muscles of his arm under his shirt gave me another jolt of memory from last night. "It's okay, Jacob. I'm not mad or anything. It's just unnerving to realize you just walked right through someone." I then remembered I was still in the robe. I tried to subtly pull the robe together a bit more. Just looking at him caused me to flush. "Was there something you wanted?"

"Oh ... well ... Ma'am, I was wondering if what you told that other woman was true."

"Which part?"

"The part when you said, 'I love everything I have experienced in this house'. Does that include last night? Are you okay with what happened? You aren't feeling bad about what happened, are you?"

I smiled and leaned into him to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I meant it. And, Jacob ... last night was wonderful. But I've been thinking about something that happened or maybe didn't happen. I came at least three times, which was amazing. And, in the end, I thought you did, too. I mean it felt like it in every way except ... well, you didn't ejaculate, did you?"

"We're not really ... well, we're not real, Ma'am. We've learned to materialize and vocalize but we don't have blood or sweat or saliva or any fluids so we don't have semen." He searched my face. "Is that a problem?"

I put the mug down on the table and threw my arms around his neck. I kissed him intently and meaningfully. Into his ear, I said, "God, no, Jacob! It was wonderful. I was just concerned about you. Now I know."

I asked Jacob to gather the rest of the guys. I wanted a meeting to establish some boundaries. I warned him that I need to get work done and I need privacy. When they were gathered, I had changed into a light summer dress for the expected hot day. They were gathered in the living room when I came downstairs. They were clearly in nervous conversation but I didn't hear a sound. The verbal communication I rely on was perhaps now a second language for them. Spotting me, they quickly turned their attention to me and gave a unified, "G'morning, Ma'am." It sounded like I was a grade school teacher beginning the class day.

I sit down and Jacob had each introduce themselves and a brief comment about themselves. As they did, my hazy impression from last night was confirmed. All were black or Hispanic, all roughly the same height within a half-foot or so but they ranged from skinny to beefy, otherwise. The skinniest, a Hispanic named Lupe, was still showing a wiry fitness and the beefiest, a black named Samuel, was like an ox with apparent power and strength. At this point in my ignorance about ghosts, I didn't know if they could present a material form that provided strength or if their apparent form might also be involved.

The looks on their faces were expectant and nervous. Last night undoubtedly gave them high expectations but was also undoubtedly nervous that what they heard me exclaim might have been in the heat of the moment, only. I decided to cut to the chase.

"What I exclaimed last night is true. But I want you all to understand that what happened last night is not normal for me. I have never just jumped into bed with someone I just met, much less doing it in front of the rest of you. Anything you might have seen before was when I thought I had privacy." They were glancing at one another with excited looks. I continued, "I don't know how this is going to happen. It will have to evolve with patience ... I can't believe I am saying this ... as I bring each of you to my bed." Huge smiles formed on most faces while a few were nervous smiles. I focused on the nervous ones, "Some of you are probably experienced and some might not be. If you aren't ..." a warm flush spread over me, "... we'll change that."

I was sitting in front of seven young men from a far distant era providing reassurance that I would indeed fuck each and every one of them as I had lustily professed last night as they watched me being fucked by their leader. And, I was managing to do so calmly with an air of control, propriety, and authority. None of this made any sense to me and each day and moment were seeming like a part of a very long and very real feeling erotic dream.

I established some rules, expectations, and boundaries if this was going to work and share this space together. I needed privacy at times. My bathroom was off-limits to them. I needed to get work done so I needed time for concentration to be productive and that would be largely in my office or the library. I came to understand that materializing was tiring (in their way of tiring) but when they were around me, I wanted to see them.

All day after that was strange. I suddenly had seven young men living with me. Sometimes they were in the house but more time wherever they normally spent their time. I tried to concentrate on my work, and I did get some work done, but my mind was no longer satisfied with the direction I had planned for my next novel. The love scenes now felt far too inadequate. I impulsively called my agent who set up a conference call with the publisher contact. As I talked about the change in direction I was considering, there was a long pause. A writer has to satisfy the expectations of the publisher. They are committing money and resources to a successful product. After the pause, though, she was excited. She saw the potential for losing some readers but gaining others. She encouraged me to pursue going down that path and send her something to react to.

I leaned back in my desk chair and swivel to face the window. Outside there was nothing but rural countryside and trees. The ocean was on the other side. I am here with seven minority young men and there is no evidence of it. Concentration is all but impossible. With the explicit nature of the love and sex scenes, I intend to write ... I feel that warmth flooding me, again ... I know exactly where the inspiration is going to come from.

I had called Jacob ... I just called his name and he came ... and told him I didn't want to have to pick the next man. I suggested they pick numbers or something. Leave the order to chance. Now I was in my bedroom after showering and primping. I was nervous but probably not as nervous as whichever young man was waiting. I was going to stay with my ritual. I select a floor-length, sheer gown. I slip my arms into it and tie it closed in front with the single bow below my breasts. I step in front of the mirror. The gown doesn't hide much. I lift a leg and the gown easily parts. I feel wicked. I know I don't need to entice whoever is downstairs. We're going to fuck and we both know it. This ties me to before, though. The exhibitionism is exciting. Maybe especially so now that I know I could be watched at any time within our newly established boundaries.

I decide on a pair of matching high heels as something new. I turn down the bed coverings and turn on one small light in the corner of the bedroom. As darkness took over outside, the bedroom is cast into a soft, subdued light. Last night with Jacob was unexpected and felt raw and powerful. Tonight is going to be different. It is intentional and the anticipation is very erotic. I step out of the room for the stairs and my heart is racing. My heels click on each hardwood tread of the stairs announcing my approach. This is someone I only met this morning by name. Another young man ... another ghost. I don't know who it is yet. That was part of it. The unknown. I am arriving to discover who it is I am giving myself to this night. How erotic is that?

I turn into the living room from the stairs after passing through the entryway and ... find no one. No ... I am dressed to stop a male's heart and my body and mind are on fire with the idea of what I am intending.

"Hello? Are you here?"

From the right side by the window looking onto the covered porch, "I'm ... I'm here ... yes ... Ma'am."

I turn to the voice but still don't see him. "You have to show yourself. This won't work unless you materialize. Are you afraid of me?"

The smokey shadow appears. He might be the youngest in the group but Hardaway only took those over 18 years old. He was shorter than Jacob and thin, less muscled. His head was covered by thick, dark hair. His skin was brown. He was one of the Hispanic boys. "No, Ma'am, I'm not afraid of you ... at least, Jacob said not to be. It's just ... I'm ..."

"Have you been with a woman before?" I could just discern the movement of the shadow that he shook his head. "You need to materialize, dear. Are you afraid of being embarrassed because it is your first time?"

He formed a little more as we talked. "I guess ... yes. Jacob ... he said not to worry ... he said you would help."

He was formed and I can see his nervousness and reservation. He is the youngest looking of them. The one I remember being introduced as Lupe. I step up to him and gently took him in my arms for a hug. I just held him. I softly spoke to him, "Honey, you really don't have to worry. Jacob is right. It's just the two of us, right? Can I tell you a secret almost everyone forgets but everyone knows?" I felt him nod. "Everyone has a first time. Everyone, Jacob, me, any of the others ... everyone has had that first awkward, nervous first time."

I step back but held his hands. He looks at me and a smile forms. "I never thought of that." I smile. "What should I do first?"

"Dear, whatever you want. Have you explored a woman's body?" He shook his head. His eyes were riveted on my breasts. "Then, why don't you start with that. I'm yours tonight. We'll take our time. Explore. Enjoy. And do it some more."

He looks into my eyes with the biggest smile. A kid at Christmas pops into my mind. This is going to be interesting. Last night I was ravaged by someone who turned out to be an experienced and powerful lover. Tonight, I will be introducing a new lover to being a lover.

He continues to look at me, up and down, but mostly at my barely covered D-cup breasts, every now and then a nervous glance to my face. Looking wasn't the kind of exploring I had in mind. I lift his hands to my breasts. I have to press them into me for a moment. He is watching his hands, then looks at me. Another reassuring smile and his hands flex, squeezing the flesh under his hands. I let go. His right hand soon moves between my breasts where the strings are tied into a bow. His eyes look to mine for apparent permission.

I giggle and touch his face softly, "Anything ... tonight you learn by exploring and trying. The next time you'll be more comfortable."

Both his hands move to the bow. He pulls the two ends and the bow releases. As his hands slowly parts the gown, "Next time?"

I softly chuckle. My God ... how arousing it is to have an innocent young man begin his sexual journey with you. Jacob was amazing last night and I am anxious to experience that again. But there is something amazing about this, too. My breasts and chest are instantly covered in goosebumps when his fingers again touch them naked. A warm wave washes through me. I smile when his left hand drops to his crotch and unthinkingly makes an adjustment in his trousers. He's getting hard.

When his left-hand returns, it is only a moment at my nipple before it begins sliding down my body. His eyes follow its journey, nervously looking back at my face. My easy, reassuring smile and soft moans encourage him. His hand slips down to my mound and I shift, parting my legs so my feet have a bit more than shoulder width separation. His fingers hesitate. His focus seems unbreakable now. He doesn't look from his hand. As if having to hesitate to gather the courage, his hand continues and a finger slides over my pussy lips. My moan is an honest response as his hand slides over my pussy and a finger presses between the wet lips. He pulls his hand back and inspects the finger. It is glistening with my juice.