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Chapter 67 — A Baby Plus Heading North
I sat at my office desk in Sarasota. Alice hovered around me worrying the state of my health. I’d been signed off by the doctors for everything but martial arts. Actually, I could do the katas — at least with my one good arm, because they were not sparring, but I had to wait another four months for that to even be a consideration.
My left arm was still in a sling that wrapped around my body and kept me from raising my arm. The bones were still healing. My left side and back consisted of several ugly scars that I was told a dermatologist would fix for me in a few weeks after additional and deeper healing took place. At least both wounds were finally free of pain.
Two months had passed since the confrontation and shooting. I had again become a media star. Several publications had done an interview with me about the incident, but it also gave them free rein to again examine my crazy lifestyle, especially since I’d been at the lounge with my TWO wives.
The luster had finally worn off that story, and I was fortunately back to ‘Good old Dave Toller’ who lived on Bird Key Drive. No paparazzi followed me or lurked in a fishing craft just off shore of my seawall hoping to get a scandalous picture. Those would be old news. There were probably dozens of them ‘on file’ in any case.
Having been away from the office for most of the past two months, I realized rather starkly that I was not indispensable. Cyber Solutions had carried on wonderfully in my absence. The stock price had dipped for a couple of days after the shooting, but once it became obvious that I’d had bench depth in the CS management corps, it bounced back.
The deals for the pending mergers had been completed and were being implemented. The major accounts had all expanded, and several accounts had transitioned to become top tier accounts. Several ransomware attacks and viruses had been stopped in their tracks by the company. A major Internet outage had our staff working around the clock to reroute traffic to other high bandwidth fiber cables. The successes kept piling up and our PR staff made sure they all got reported fairly in the media.
Further, the management team had remained intact, had functioned like a finely-tuned machine, and was itching for more problems to sink their teeth into. I began to realize that I might have been managing things too close to my own vest and not giving them leeway to do great work. I asked Alice about my supposition, and she reluctantly agreed with only a nod.
At least one thing had finally changed in my life. I’d been cleared by my panel of doctors to resume sex, subject to the limitations of my left arm and any shoulder pain.
I became the Crash Test Dummy for the women in our circle of friends. I needed two good arms for traditional missionary, but I could do stand-up missionary just fine, and, their choice, was woman-on-top.
So as not to depress me, the Saturday parties during my bed rest had moved next door to my father’s home. While he hosted them, occasionally a couple or two would walk through the hedge row and take up loving on one of my chaises. I’d watch and wish I could be the guy. Later, one of my ‘nurses’ would give me a blowjob to help take the edge off.
My first Saturday party, I felt as though I was backed up and hadn’t had sex for years. Crystal was my first sex partner. I didn’t last very long, yet the experience was mind-numbing. Carol was next, and then Elynn and then my other fiancée, the very pregnant Jean. I was still rarin’ to go, so Madison happened along at just the right time, and then I had a final fuck of the night with Deborah. I was wiped out, but boy was I satisfied for the first time in two months. I wondered where my stamina had gone, and then Crystal reminded me that I’d just fucked six different women that evening.
At that party, I was glad to see Crystal with Spence — her relatively new real estate attorney friend. Spence Carson and Chet Watkins — a junior detective in town — were two men that Crystal and Carol had wooed and slowly lured into the sexual circle of friends.
The two girls had led Chet and Spence down the primrose path into our hedonistic lifestyle. Somehow, they got the men to admit that they would prefer a ‘hot’ girlfriend — even a slutty one, or certainly one that could be slutty under the right circumstances.
Next, the men admitted that they, too, were male sluts to some extent. The men were also entranced that Crystal and Carol would even have sex together, and then that they swapped with the men, each willingly and happily fucking each of them. The men liked that, and wanted more.
About that time, the men learned that the two women were married to a multi-millionaire and entrepreneur Dave Toller, the CEO of the rapidly growing Cyber Solutions. Me!
A simple Google search revealed hundreds of past articles about Dave, from the straight technical articles he wrote before the Satanic Virus struck, his overnight rise to fame, the discovery of his hedonistic lifestyle, and then learning that he had multiple eyüp escort wives and fiancées, all while keeping everything legal as far as any government entity was concerned.
Repeatedly, the articles stressed several of the mantras of Dave and his group of friends: you can love more than one person; there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so (Thank you, Shakespeare); and we’re here to help each other grow and evolve, so lead with your heart and not your head.
Chet ran the names of those he knew through the police department’s information system. There he found out more about Dave and then Crystal and Carol.
One thing stood out to the two men: the two girls they liked were not only married, they made pornographic videos. It was all legal, and the women made sure to stay within the boundaries of the law — sometimes, just barely.
Chet had confronted the two women about the video business over one crucial lunch they had. Crystal said, “Oh, yes. That was something else we wanted to talk to you about today. We’re both hoping you’d make an adult entertainment video with us in the next week or two.”
So, besides admitting to the production of adult videos, the girls wanted the men to participate. Before Chet could turn them down, Spence had jumped in and asked for details. That led to a very erotic description of the action needed in porno vids, not that the men weren’t familiar with that.
The men opted to join them, but Chet insisted on his face never appearing. The junior detective like his employment and career prospects.
The men were also schooled in what the concept of an ‘open marriage’ or an ‘open relationship’ entailed. It wasn’t just a substitute term for free sex. There were responsibilities involved — to your partners and to the new person you were admitting into the relationship. The need for honest and open communications was paramount; trust was key; compersion played a major role instead of jealousy; and mutual support was part of the dynamic framework. The idea was to not be an impediment to the growth of those you love — au contraire.
The girls told how Dave had encouraged them to make new friends, and that meeting the two men they resonated with was just fortuitous. It had happened at a time when their husband was away, and some of their other close male friends were otherwise occupied. No one was looking back and ruing their meeting.
The last thing the girls ‘confessed’ to the men was about the sex parties — the loving weekly orgies. They avoided those terms, and it wasn’t so much a confession as a sales job.
Crystal spoke, “You like us and swapping with us because you like us. What if you liked a dozen other women you felt the same about at the same time? Wouldn’t you want to swap around and be with at least some of us during an evening?”
Both men finally acknowledged that that was reasonable extension of where they’d already been.
Crystal said, “Well, we have many like-minded friends that would love to meet you and develop the same kind and level of intimacy with you that we have. We’ve even told some of them about you. You’ve seen a couple of them at the house — Elynn, Heather, and my sister Trish.”
All the men could recall was that every female they’d seen where the girls lived was hotter than Hades. If they read this right, and played their cards right, they were being granted admission into a group of over-sexed men and women that had parties where they had sex with each other.
The men ate the last of the bait.
Carol asked the crucial question, “Could you men live in that lifestyle as a steady diet — every day? Could you come to love more than one person, and in fact many people? Can you give up the requirement for exclusivity in a relationship?”
The following Saturday night they came to a party at Ross’s house. They understood about Dave’s temporary incapacity, and also learned that he was getting at least some sexual relief from his lovers.
The rest of those at the party had been told about Chet and Spence, so they were ready for them and treated them properly, helping to further draw them into the group. They were genuinely liked and encouraged to come to each weekly gathering.
Elynn especially did a yeoman’s job of wooing the men deeper into the group. She pranced up to them upon their arrival and stated that she’d seen them when they came to pick up their dates, but hadn’t really met them. She was again topless, with her amazing and alert jugs front and center. The men nearly drooled over and on them they were so entranced.
The women that the men enjoyed that evening were carefully orchestrated into their beds — the patio chaises. Elynn wanted to be with each of them. Heather chose one. Lisa wanted to meet them and felt unusually randy, so did both men. Deborah took on both men. Julie had one.
By the end of the evening, the two men had been pushed to and exceeded their limits. They remained aroused but unable to perform further. Crystal and Carol took them to bed for sleeping and middle of the night esenler escort sex once they’d recovered somewhat.
The ‘nude breakfast’ the next morning convinced the men that they had found some secret heaven on earth that they never wanted to leave. They were fully immersed in the group, and just got deeper into everything as the weeks passed.
I liked the two men, but something else was gnawing at my craw. I couldn’t put my finger on it. It had nothing to do with the new men or anybody else in our circle of friends. Cyber Solutions was going well, so it wasn’t that. At least temporarily we weren’t doing any more domestic mergers. We’d completed five mergers with overseas companies: one in Asia and four in Europe. We’d also partnered with another in India. We now had international reach. The company did a three-for-one split of the stock, and the stock price still went up and up.
I was left with feeling of ‘What next?’ — not so much on a corporate level but on a personal level.
Given the level I’d risen to, and the challenges I’d faced and conquered, there were only a few people I could talk to about my ill-at-ease feeling: Crystal and Carol, my father Ross, Kim Stanley, and Steve Wallace. I took each of them to a private dinner at the downtown University Club. I poured my heart out to them as much as I could.
They all said the same thing: get away from the office. You were sick, so that time doesn’t count. Go off to your mountain top and figure out what the next phase of your life is about. Kim was blunt; she said, “Hint, it probably doesn’t involve Cyber Solutions.”
I too her advice. I gave up my role as the CEO of Cyber Solutions, but stayed on the board. I took leave from the company. Publicly the story was that my change was to complete the healing from my bullet wounds and the attendant ‘near death’ trauma. PTSD was alluded to in the press release. My PR staff was good and knew how to spin a story.
Kim was the most encouraging to take time off. She had a specific recommendation. “Go and do something physical. Find a new mountain top to climb. You’ve been behind a desk or a negotiating table for seven years building up Cyber Solutions, and you’ve got that all licked. Get out. Get your blood pumping. The answer will come to you.”
I pondered that advice. I even went and sat alone at the beach one afternoon. I was wearing my office clothes and barefoot, and so I was a bit of an anomaly.
Once I got home, I got on the Internet and did a little research. The answer to the initial part of my quest got clearer and clearer. I even became enthused about something for the first time in months.
I would hike the entire Appalachian Trail from Georgia to Maine.
I studied the trail and the whole concept of the hike. The timing was almost perfect for my hike. Jean would have her baby soon, but I was almost superfluous to that with so many of the women wanting to help out and be surrogate aunts — and even uncles for some of the guys. I’d pledged to be there for the delivery of the baby.
My absence from the house, the parties, and the business was covered in every way that I could think of. I’d be missed, but I wasn’t going to disappear forever. I had long talks with Crystal, Carol, Jean, and Elynn.
I studied the calendar and the weather projections. I started to make a list of what I’d need on the hike. My head got into the dramatic changes to my lifestyle. I’d no longer have a kitchen, a bed, a den, a closet full of clothes, electricity, a washing machine and dryer, and dozens of other creature comforts, except occasionally along the route where the trail neared a town of some kind.
I talked more with Crystal and Carol and the others. They liked the idea. If I kept to the schedule, I’d be away five months. I’d hike 2,108.5 miles from Georgia to a specific mountain top in Maine, and I’d see some of the more beautiful scenery America has to offer.
More important to me, I’d gain clarity and motivation for a new set of personal goals. I’d come back a stronger person both physically and mentally. I wanted to be in better control of my life, my mind, and I wanted the spark for what I was doing to come back. Just that thought fired me up more than normal.
On the downside, I’d lose five months with Crystal and Carol, and my other friends and lovers. I was torn, but one day I took a magic marker and I wrote on my healing arm: ‘I will hike the trail’. I cried at the commitment. It seemed so monumental at the time.
The next day, I became a father.
Jean contractions woke her early in the morning. I’d been with her in bed, not for sex but for comfort and security. We timed them, called the doctor, and at a leisurely pace went into the hospital in mid-morning. Of course, we’d taken classes and done all sorts of prep with the hospital and for the baby.
Jean finished her prep with the nurses as I got into scrubs. Trish came by, apparently based on a text from Crystal. She wished us well, and kissed Jean.
We went into the delivery room and Jean started the really şişli escort hard work of pushing out our baby. Matthew Muir was born at 3:33 p.m. that afternoon. I’d lost complete sense of time. Suddenly, it seemed we were in Jean’s private room with a caravan of well-wishers parading through, and the neo-natal nurses being sure that everyone continued to do well.
I had a secret present for Jean once we got home. I telephoned to make sure the arrangements were in place. The doctor and hospital were of the mind to send her home the next day, and that worked. Jean’s mother was also coming down in my corporate jet even as we talked. She’d be in one of the new guest rooms at the house before midnight.
Jean called the house the next morning, and we talked about her pickup and care. She knew about her mother, and they briefly talked. I took my SUV and went to the hospital to pick up one of my fiancées and my first child.
An hour later, I helped Jean into her own bed in her pajamas, and we got her situated for a life of leisure for a couple of days while others, including me, waited on her.
At noon, I brought up Emily Bright, the nanny I’d interviewed and hired to help with Matthew. This was the surprise, but, of course, Jean had the final say whether Emily would be adequate to the job and fit in with her. Jean and Emily bonded instantly, a concern I’d had. Emily was both a mid-wife and a nanny, and knew more about early child development than any doctor I’d ever heard of.
While Jean watched, Emily thoroughly examined Matthew and commented about his muscle tone, hair, and the rest of his tiny physique. She then swaddled the child in about ten seconds, an amazing feat if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. Matthew went to sleep instantly, and Emily taught Jean how to cuddle the baby safely and also nap herself.
Emily had one of the assigned guest rooms, so she’d be around most of the time. There was a backup for her days off from an agency; Emily was a private hire. Jean was ecstatic with the surprise, which I felt glad about after it was clear that I’d made a good pick. Emily was also to assuage some of my guilt for going off on my hike for five months.
I took over a corner in the garage and started to accumulate the gear I would need for my hike. So many people had done this, and there were such detailed accountings and lists on the Internet, my job was easy. I spent hours at any outfitting shop within a hundred miles of home and then the Atlanta office of CS. Several of the owners or people that worked there had done at least part of the trail, so had lots of advice.
My smart phone and iPad filled up with books about the trail, including a nearly foot-by-foot, tree-by-tree, vista-by-vista description of the trail, huts, lakes, water sources, mail drops, and so on. I did not lack for great advice and counsel. I read voraciously about the trail.
I also started an exercise regime that surpassed anything in my martial arts class. I had to get more muscles in my legs, especially before I started the hike.
There was more to prepare than just my back pack. I prepared twenty boxes to have sent to me, general delivery, along the first part of my route. I would be in and out of cellphone coverage, so I’d be able to call and tell Crystal to mail a box to which location ahead of me for pickup a few days later. She also learned how to prepare other boxes, if I needed more of them.
I bought a small solar panel that fit atop my back pack. The panel would charge my cellphone as well as a backup battery that I could use with the phone or with a special flashlight.
My last week at home seemed frenzied. I wanted to be with each of the women that I loved and be sure they knew that I would continue to love them despite my absence.
Each night of the week I was with three or four different women making love and hopefully leaving them fulfilled with a joyful memory of our time together.
The Saturday party was great in many regards. Jean brought down the baby for show ‘n tell. She was still sexually ‘off limits’ so just went back upstairs and tucked herself away so she’d resist the temptation to violate her doctor’s orders for a six-week hiatus from penetrative sex.
Jean and I had a blunt talk with Emily about our lifestyle and especially the weekend parties. Our behavior was not foreign to her, but she had not participated in anything like this before although one of her previous families had done so on a significantly lesser scale.
I told Emily that she could watch us if she wasn’t disruptive. I even suggested a couple of specific locations as viewpoints depending on how much arousal and visual stimulation she wanted. I emphasized that her participation would in no way jeopardize her employ.
As I was with Darlene making love on one of the pool chaises, I happened to look over into the shadows to see Emily sitting in one of the bar stools from inside the house that she must have carried outside. Emily was topless and had her hand inside her undies — her only garment — and was apparently jilling off as she watched about fifteen renditions of ‘I love you’ on the patio. There were a few more couples or threesomes inside in the living room and the media room that had been my hospital room for a few weeks. Later, Emily verified that she was not concerned.
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