Yesterday's Tomorrow, Nathan Wolf, Wolf [jenna bush book club .TXT] 📗

me, and she said, 'Great, the more, the merrier.'"

We could hear the muffled voices but not the words of two women engaged in a heated discussion in the next room. The conversation ended abruptly, and a moment later, Sheila entered the office with another woman in tow.

"Your presence here presents us with something of a problem, Mr. Richards. Darlene sent us a text to our satellite phone. She told us she was bringing her lover 'Denise' with her. It was on that basis that we gave you permission to join our family of sisters." Sheila crossed her arms and studied us closely.

Darlene let out a little gasp before she burst out laughing. "Fucking auto-correct will get you every time. I dictated it on my iPhone, and I never caught the error when it changed Dennis to Denise," Darlene said.

Oh, damn! Talk about getting off to a lousy start. We were at the intersection of Colossal and Fuck Up. It took Sheila only a moment to absorb the implications of Darlene's unintended error. There was no conspiracy at work here, only faulty technology.

"Error or not, Mr. Richards' presence in our family might produce, er, unnecessary sexual tension; that kind of stress can be bad for families," Sheila explained as she took a seat across from us.

"Seriously? If you're all lesbians, how can an old fart like me produce any sexual tension?" I protested.

"There are capital-L lesbians, and there are lowercase-L lesbians, Mr. Richards, and then there are those who might want to find pleasure from a man out of mischief or mere curiosity. The fact that you're old makes you seem harmless, but I know better. You're not as safe as you appear. You have already seduced one of our first lesbian sisters and convinced her to take you on as a lover," Sheila glanced over at Darlene.

I also gave Darlene an inquiring look of my own. I had suspected but never knew for sure, that my lady love walked both sides of the street.

Sheila leaned forward and looked directly into Darlene's eyes. "Since we're already on the subject, why on earth did you pick such an old guy for a lover in the first place? My God girl, he's old enough to be your father or even your grandfather."

Darlene laughed. "Everyone wants to know about our May-December relationship. I picked Dennis because he's low maintenance, easy to be with, and treats me with respect. He's a fantastic lover and knows how to make a woman happy. He has an extremely talented tongue."

Sheila glanced at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. I smiled back and blushed as the "talented tongue" comment seemed to hang in the air forever.

She let the silence stretch out a bit, and then leaned across the coffee table, took Darlene's right hand in her own, and licked her lips, "Tell me, dear sister, is his penis as talented?"

I shifted in my seat and struggled to keep a neutral expression as the two women discussed my sexual performance. I couldn't imagine a more awkward conversation.

Darlene eyes widened in surprise at Sheila's question and then narrowed in thoughtful reflection for several moments.

"His thing is untrained, and it doesn't work as well as his mouth. Sometimes my lover can't get it up or keep it up. Other times, his pecker has a mind of its own. He often suffers from premature ejaculation when he eventually gets an erection."

Sheila glanced over at me and raised another questioning eyebrow. I just blushed and did my best to sink out of sight. I tried to avoid any response that might extend discussion further. Darlene had a tendency to overshare information.

Turning toward her companion, Sheila asked, "Will you please show Darlene to her room and round up a few of the women to help unpack their vehicle, Lucia? I need to spend a few minutes to bring Dennis up to speed on the ground rules for our colony. Please let the kitchen crew and the others know that we may be a little late for dinner."

With a quick kiss on my lips, Darlene rose and give Sheila a noticeably longer kiss as she followed Lucia out of the room. As the door closed, Sheila stood and beckoned me to follow her.

"Let's adjourn to the next room where we can be more comfortable. We've got a lot to talk about."

There was no doubt about it, I was a stranger in a very strange land.

Chapter 3

 

The next room turned out to be the bedroom Sheila shared with her partner, Lucia. The walls were hand-hewn pine planks decked out with bookcases and several artfully done watercolor portraits of lightly clad women.

A queen-size, four-poster bed covered with a beautiful handmade quilt took up one wall. Illumination provided by a handcrafted wrought iron table lamp beneath a stained glass shade provided most of the light for the room. The remainder came from a stone fireplace with several burning logs. A huge bearskin spread out on the floor before the fire along with several hefty throw pillows offered comfortable seating. The pleasantly warm room had an elegant and cozy feel to it overall.

Sheila retrieved an amber-colored bottle and two glasses from the bookshelf and sat down on the rug. She patted a spot next to her as she invited me to join her fireside.

"Dennis, would you care to join me in a glass of home-brewed brandy?"

"Only if you make it a double."

I was tempted to ask for a triple, but I let it pass. A double would do for now.

Taking a seat on the rug next to Sheila, I made myself as relaxed as possible. I was no longer as flexible as I had been when I was younger. Moreover, sitting on the floor was hardly my preferred mode of relaxation. I took a taste of the offered spirits. Liquid heaven! It was as smooth as silk, and I could feel it filling me with a warm glow.

"Tell me, Dennis, how at-ease are you with public displays of nudity?" Sheila asked as she took a swallow.

I almost snorted the drink out of my nose as I coughed and choked in surprise. What was the hell kind of question was that?

"I don't have a problem with public nudity." I regained my composure. "I've visited plenty of nude beaches in my life."

"Did you get undressed or just visit as a voyeur?" Sheila inquired.

"I got as naked as everyone else. Why do you ask?" I responded.

"Because our dress code most assuredly is clothing optional when we're in the cabin. Most of us go skyclad when we aren't working or cooking or if safety requires we remain covered up. I'm glad that you're comfortable with this," Sheila said, as she pulled her sweater over her head and exposed her braless chest.

I used to think I was pretty jaded and nothing would surprise me. Wrong. What do you say to a skyclad lady? I felt like I was playing a bit part on Candid Camera.

Neatly folding her garment, she rose to her knees, unbuckled her jeans, and slid them down to her ankles. My eyes widened in surprise. Sheila wore no underwear, and her un-clad body showed no trace of tan lines. My head was spinning.

The same dizzy feeling I had when standing at the edge of a cliff swept over me in a wave of cultural vertigo as I struggled to keep my mental balance. The normal social landmarks outlining the boundaries of acceptable behavior were either missing or obscured in this strange new world. She folded her jeans, placed them on top of her sweater, leaned back on the pillow behind her, and closed her eyes.

"Ahh, that feels much more comfortable. I'm getting to the age where I almost dislike clothing," she said with a deep sigh.

I took the opportunity to examine Sheila's exposed body as she lay exposed next to me. I was trying to engrave this moment in my memory for later replay. Maybe it would make more sense the second time around. Her breasts were still reasonably firm, and they showed few of the signs of aging or sagging, apart from a few stretch marks, which came along with advancing years.

Sheila's nipples were about the size of the tip of my little finger, and her dark brown areolas were roughly the size of fifty-cent pieces. Her stomach was flat with just a few wrinkles above a thin patch of reddish-brown pubic hair. She was in better physical shape than most women half her age. Either that, or she was a very high mileage thirty-year-old.

Her face had the usual lines and weather-worn creases of someone who spent most of their time outdoors, and there was only a slight hint of a double chin. She opened her eyes and caught me studying her body.

"Do I meet with your approval?"

I was stone-cold busted.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. I don't often find myself alone with a naked woman," I stammered. "This whole thing is way too weird. Talk about being beyond my comfort zone; you're nude, and you tell me an entire gaggle of naked jaybirds is just beyond this door," I searched around and waved my arms, "and then there's all this, this cabin half-way to nowhere. It's just everything. I don't mind being outside my zone, but I still need the time to process it."

I took a breath and continued. "Take this cabin, for example. It didn't grow here. It seems to be at least ten or fifteen years old, and it must have cost a fortune. What did you guys do? Win the lottery or something?" I said, waving my arms around the room.

"You're either a good guesser or a very lucky boy. That's exactly how this place came to be. Do you remember when everyone was freaking out over a seventy-five million dollar jackpot that remained unclaimed for almost a year about twenty years ago? That was the sisters and me," Sheila said.

"It took us that long to set up a corporation to hold the ticket. We decided that we would fly under the radar. We didn't want the media attention. I'm sure you can understand." She patted my leg.

"How the hell did you build this structure? You needed some heavy equipment to put this place together, and there are no roads in or out of the glen."

"We cut and milled all the wood we needed on site. A French Canadian heavy lift helicopter service brought in all the necessary equipment to complete this building and about a dozen utility structures. I'll give you and Darlene a tour of our colony tomorrow," Sheila offered.

I numbly nodded while reaching into my shirt pocket. I needed a smoke to calm my nerves.

With the pack of smokes in my hand, I asked, "Is it okay with you if I have a cigarette?"

"Shit! Cigarettes? I haven't had one in years!" She took the pack from my hand and tapped two cigarettes out before setting the pack down next to her leg.

Sheila gave me one before rolling on her stomach. Spreading her legs a little wider for stability, she stretched forward and reached into the fireplace to find an unburned twig to use as a match to light her cigarette.

Her