CHAPTER 3: THE GATEWAY BOYS

My eyes crack 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 search the room without moving my head. I see nothing except the furnishings of my bedroom. I cautiously lift my head and turn my body to search further. I still see 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 rub my eyes, run my fingers through the rat’s nest of my hair, and stretch 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 take the couple 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 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 tap a finger to 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 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-raison 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 a 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, confirm 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 to the porch without an invitation. Small towns. Everyone’s a friend or pretending to be and everyone assuming to be welcome.

“Marge, what brings you out this way?”

Seeing me brings her to a stop. “Oh, Lexy … I thought you were earlier 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 much 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 eye brows 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 caring but Hardaway’s mind lost the filters he should have applied around the town people. 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 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 in 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 look around me as if just taking it in while I squeeze 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 experience 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 his 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 experience 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, at 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, weren’t 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 it was their ability to present a material form that provided strength or if their apparent form might also be involved.

The looks on their faces was expectant and nervous. Last night undoubtedly gave them high expectations but were 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 to do 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.