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We worked hard up to our first weekend of performances, and through the second. Rehearsals morning and evening, with work on the Tales in-between. The first book had gone to press, and we’d completed a mock-up of the second, so we concentrated on the third.

As far as rehearsals, Nick hired people to get the technical things done. Like Cass Lake and the older mixed couple, he brought in former teachers from the defunct college who knew the theater to hang lights and set up the sound. Chanda actually directed these things, following long discussions with Lindy. During those discussions, to witness specific movement, at least for the plays, Vance became surrogate director of us actors. For dancing, she had Miwa. Nick actually provided tiny earphones and mics, like some sort of spy thing, to allow Lindy to communicate with her surrogates if needed. They would be used during performance, with Chanda mostly communicating with Alexandra, her stage manager, or the two Nick hired to run lights and sound. Chanda announced cues and troubleshot when things went slightly sideways.

The only ones independent of Chanda were the costume designer and her helpers. Fortunately, nothing required building historic clothing. Some tailoring, and adjusting leotards and dying them to match Lindy’s vision. Lindy didn’t like flouncy. No tutus, thank you very much.

Rehearsal also involved our newest hires, who shadowed those they would replace. Not quite understudies, because a need for that seemed unlikely. As a whole, we were a remarkably healthy company. Not just the angels. Them and Nick may have touched us mortals with a bit of immortality. Only Sheila, the Scottish Amazon, and the autumn/spring couple Barnaby and Samantha had not tasted of the elixirs of immortality or, however it changed us, sat in for Nick’s Tales. And none of them were really replaceable, although Cheryl, long and lean and almost as talented as Samantha, with a lovely, exotic mix of Asian, African and Caucasian, and the barely taller and very gay Chinese talent Harry, did attend their rehearsal and would eventually replace them. But only when necessary, when Barnaby headed back to his company in San Francisco with his fiancé, because as good as those new members were, neither could match the charisma, especially Barnaby’s, nor the innate love expressed by those two amazing performers and friends.

But we didn’t just rehearse for the Boston performances. We began working towards BAM in November, developing the two new plays by Tash and I, and new choreography and accompanying music by Lindy and Angelique. These would feature, mostly the dancing, our newer members. Most of the roles in the new plays had already been filled. Even the ones in Tash’s and my collaboration.

“Maybe we should start a new one fitting the new company members,” Tash suggested after we finished the final scene of our collaboration.

I laughed. “No time to celebrate completing our first draft?”

“I didn’t say that,” Tash grinned, setting aside her laptop and lying spread out on her bed, her sexy robe open, revealing her long, lean, sexy body, with the bulge at her tummy just making her sexier. “You know I always think better after a good fuck.”

“I don’t know if that’s true for me,” Lindy grinned her wonderful, head tilting grin. She had been joining us lately, adding her remarkable insight and vision of the completed work. Since her sort of break up with Angelique, she had floated from bed to bed, with Angelique and me sometimes, sometimes with Betty, but mostly with Miwa and her toys. But she also joined Tash and me for nights of collaboration, so, in a way, I got to be with her more than I had before. These were occasional nights, since I spent every other night at least with my wives. But they were the times she added her insights. Otherwise Tash and I collaborated when we could during rehearsal when I wasn’t needed. Lindy always was. “But I’m willing to find out,” she added.

“Then where are you going?” Tash asked.

“To Miwa’s for some tools.”

“Sounds good,” Tash giggled and blushed.

Removing my robe and boxers, then removing her slightly damp panties, I crawled between Tash’s long lean legs, head first to her sexual center.

“Yes,” she moaned with my first lap of her fragrant cunt.

The first of many, along with lips sucking and fingers fucking. My other hand reached up and played with her lovely little breasts, especially the dark nipples that pointed at the ceiling, making them as rigid as her clit.

I measured the sound of her moans and the squirming of her body to build her towards as large a climax as possible.

“Joe?” she murmured tightly, her ass lifting off her bed.

My fingers remained stroking her or pulling gently on a nipple while I scooted over her. A hand already there guided my glans and moved to her clit to make room for the much larger entrance.

I plunged hard, high, fast and deep. “Yes!” she yelled and trembled. I felt the rumble of orgasmic flesh surround my cock. My pelvic bone pressed my finger harder against her clit.

As she climbed down from her peak, my balls covered by her liquid pleasure, I began withdrawing and pushing back in, slowly but intensely. It did what I hoped it would do, elongated her orgasm.

“Joe,” she finally murmured and pulled me into a kiss.

I continued slowly fucking her until a familiar deep but clearly feminine voice behind me said, “Turn her over.” Ever the director/choreographer.

“Hold on, Tash,” I said. When she did, a little weakly, still feeling the effect of her orgasm, I rolled myself onto my back.

“Mmm,” Tash murmured. I felt a finger press on my cock, sliding along the bottom, as Tash continued the slow fuck, my hands helping her moves lifting and falling.

Soon I felt something much larger against my cock, and Tash felt it, too. “Fuck,” she groaned.

“Okay?” I heard Lindy ask.

“Please,” Tash moaned. Her movements stilled but recommenced. I felt Lindy’s fingertips against my pelvis and figured she would be guiding the fuck.

We kept it slow for a while. Tash’s tight pussy had become tighter, and the thing that made it so kept moving. The friction of two cocks fucking her made it intense for Tash. Her writhing became a guide. Speed up the fuck! Now! She moved. Lindy moved. I moved, though the least. But the pleasure made me participate, lifting against Tash’s downward plunge. My hands, which had been grasping Tash’s breasts, took hold of her ass, sliding past the grasp Lindy continued to have on her hips. I began guiding the fuck as much as Lindy, needing the speed. My balls, taking over my head, demanding it. It became a wild, chaotic fuck.

Tash stiffened between her two fuckers. I continued hammering upwards and Lindy, at about half my speed, fucked downwards while Tash wailed through tightened larynx. I soon began undulating while my cock pumped seed deep into Tash. Lindy slowed, but her movements seemed to help squeeze out the seed at each ejaculation. It magnified my pleasure, and it definitely continued to affect Tash’s.

She went slack atop me, her groan barely a murmur. I felt the last ejaculation get pressed out by Lindy. She seemed to sense it somehow, ending her thrusts.

I heard her giggle, “You feel like creating now?” she asked.

“Not yet,” Tash murmured. “Go clean that monster stick. It’s your turn.”

“Yes ma’am,” Lindy giggled.

“Ooh, fuck,” Tash muttered at the withdrawal.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Very,” she grinned and shifted, my penis slipping out, and grabbed my head and kissed me thoroughly.

“I’m back,” Lindy announced.

“Did you cum?” Tash asked her.

“A little.”

“A little won’t do. Right Joe?”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied obediently.

Tash moved off me. Lindy handed her the strap-on, containing a long, narrow dildo. A good tool for anal fucking. Tash set it down. “First things first,” Tash explained. “Straddle Joe’s face.”

“Great idea,” Lindy grinned.

While enjoying Lindy’s pussy, I felt two sets of lips work me to erection. With those things combined, it didn’t take long.

Lindy’s pussy moved down my body. Her fingers held my cock high and still for her pussy to engulf it, which it did, slowly and wonderfully. My hands took hold of her full breasts as she lowered her thick torso. Our mouths met for a loving kiss. She wanted it more than that, so her tongue searched for mine to play. Easily found, the lingual dance promoted even more libidinous excitement than I already felt. Her pussy didn’t even need to move on my cock, and, by-in-large, it didn’t. At least until I felt company inside her.

“Ooh,” she groaned into my mouth, but didn’t separate from it. I felt the familiar slide of dildo along the bottom of my cock. At its deepest, it pressed against my glans. Only then did Lindy’s lips lift off mine. “Fuck,” she gasped. Her pussy also lifted, pulling the faux cock away from my glans and along my shaft.

The dildo never contacted my glans again when it was deep until the end. With Lindy controlling the fuck, the two cocks had opposite activities as far as filling their respective holes. Anus got filled while pussy emptied, and vice versa. At least mostly. As things proceeded, especially after Lindy’s first orgasm, Tash took more control of her thrusts.

Lindy kept her lips on mine, only ending the kiss when she gasped her orgasms. After each orgasm, the fuck quickened, with the last one, the third, becoming as fast and chaotic as Tash’s had been. This time though I let the women control things. My balls never took over my head. Tash must have been more controlled by her lust in the end. Her thrusts matched Lindy’s moves in their wildness. And when Lindy pressed down and writhed against me, her mouth gasping loudly when it separated from mine, Tash smacked rapidly against her ass before stilling and moaning her own release.

“Did you cum, Joe?” Lindy asked me quietly once her orgasm came towards ending.

“No,” I admitted. “But I’m fine.”

“You can be such a girl sometimes,” Tash giggled, slowly easing the dildo out.

“If it means I got as much pleasure as I needed without cumming,” I chuckled, “I suppose you’re right.”

Taking off the strap-on, Tash tossed it aside and nestled beside me. Lindy pulled off my erection and took my other side. I got kissed on the cheek by two lovely, blushing ladies. Both reached down and patted my cock and balls.

“We’ll take care of him later,” said Tash.

“You still think you think better now?” Lindy muttered.

“Unh-hunh,” she sat up, finding her robe and shrugging it on. “So what have we got to work with?”

“Native American, African American and Chinese American.”

“Walk in a bar,” Lindy chuckled. “Sounds like the start of a bad joke, except it probably would use less positive identities.”

“I do have a bar play,” I admitted. “I kind of like it, but no one else seemed to.”

“What’s it about?” asked Lindy.

I glanced at Tash with just enough guilt to make her smirk.

“I’m guessing it’s some sort of ceremony or rite that gets out of hand. The individual versus the tyranny of the crowd.”

“Is it?” Lindy asked me.

“Pretty much.”

“But how... ?”

“It’s like I can’t help it. It’s like an obsession. I start something and it steers towards that.”

“What do you think it’s about?” Lindy asked. “I mean, it’s not like we’re a part of a ritualistic world. None of us are religious...”

“Guilt,” I said as I realized it.

“What do you have to be guilty about?”

“We all have something to be guilty about. Not doing enough for people who don’t have what we have for instance.”

“Nonsense,” said Tash.

“Okay. It’s more personal. Something I did because I was too young and stupid and horny to realize what I did.”

“You ... raped someone?” asked Lindy, freezing and shifting away from me.

“I ... I didn’t think I did. We were in bed. She was my girlfriend. Short term, I admit, and not like my longer girlfriends who seemed to surprise me with their interest in me. Those never seemed to ever want to say no.”

“But she did.”

“Yes. I thought it was playful. We were sort of wrestling about. But...”

“You were doing the wrestling.”

“I was. And she said no. I didn’t even know it affected her until much later. I thought we just drifted apart, and to tell you the truth, I had a couple other girls, one whom I still had feelings for and was friends with but she no longer felt the same way towards me. And another I began having sex with. Except for my ex-girlfriend and still friend, I didn’t feel a strong bond towards the girls.”

“So how did you realize what you’d done?” Lindy asked me.

“She wrote me a letter. Said I turned her into an ice queen. Didn’t explain what I did, but I remembered what I’d done, and I figured it’s what caused it.”

“Are you sure?”

“No.”

“Maybe you turned your back on her.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think so. Why would that make a woman frigid? Pissed maybe, or maybe a little unsure of herself, but I doubt she would be unsure of herself. She was a strong woman. A confident woman. It had to be that.”

“Did you learn, Joe?”

“I didn’t get the letter until months later. So...”

“There were others?”

“I ... I just questioned things when I got that letter. Any other time a woman wasn’t eager to take that step but I insisted or something. Not forcing them or anything, but insisting. I guess I didn’t understand. Or I was unwilling to, wanting to fuck no matter what. I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t understand women, thought they were saying one thing when it was altogether different.”

“So these plays... ,” Tash started.

“It’s like this nightmare I have sometimes. I kill someone and have to hide the body.”

“The Telltale Heart,” said Tash.

“Yes. Exactly. The sound of guilt. It’s like everyone knows what I’ve done. I can’t hide it. And they destroy me for it. Because I deserve it.”

“If you raped a woman...” said Lindy.

“I know,” I sighed.

“Maybe it’s not enough how profoundly remorseful you are about it,” said Tash. “But maybe it is. One thing for sure, it can never happen again.”

“Why can’t it?”

“Well, first, you’ll never be that desperate to ignore a woman’s plead. You have five wives for god’s sake, let alone all your other lovers, including us. Anyone not interested just has to step aside for one who is. And second, whatever it is you have, this power of seduction, not too many women, especially those with empty wombs, would ever say no to you.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“You’re a good man, Joe,” said Lindy.

“So ... you forgive me?”

“I’ll work on it,” she smiled slightly.

“You’ve ... been raped?”

“No. I’ve managed to avoid it.”

“Then ... almost?”

“Yeah. Kind of like what happened with your ice queen, but I made it much more apparent to the man than she did, poor thing. He did more than hear my no. He felt it. But I’ve had girlfriends ... One didn’t handle it well.”

“Shit. She killed herself?”

“No. It killed her. The fucker tore up her insides.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“I understand.”

“I love you, Joe. I’ll get over it. More than you, I think.”

“I hope so.”

“I think we can use this,” said Tash, seemingly about of the blue, especially the hint of excitement in her words.

“Use what?” I asked.

“The bar setting. The rites. The guilt.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we have an Indian. How destructive has firewater been to Indians?”

“Okay. I actually have a story where old Indian gods get used for retribution.”

“Of course you do,” Tash chuckled. “I’d like to read them both.”

“Firewater,” Lindy contemplated. “So destructive. White Man’s destructiveness. You know Asians don’t assimilate alcohol well?”

“I’ve heard,” I nodded, as did Tash.

“Not White Man’s doing, because I’m certain, at least the Japanese have been drinking rice wine for centuries.”

“But still,” I said.

“Yes. And the black man.”

“How does he compare?” I asked.

“Drugs more than booze,” Lindy shrugged. “And I don’t know how true the stereotype may be, that black men tend to leave the family, his children raised by his wife.”

“I’ve heard enough stories to make it not just incidental,” Tash nodded.

“The distraction, taking attention literally away from the family, may not be drug related,” I pointed out.

“But it could be, for the play,” said Tash. “The allure of crack.”

“Drugs anthromorphized?” Lindy responded skeptically. “I don’t know.”

“I think I could,” I smiled. “Three white sirens.”

“Suggesting white women being the lure,” Lindy disagreed.

I considered white women to be a distraction, especially for black men, but Tash spoke first, “Unless there’s a great white pimp behind it all.”

I laughed. “Simon enters the play.”

“And who battles him?” Tash asked.

“I mentioned my story of Native American beliefs,” I pointed out. “Gods of nature manifested, causing revenge.”

“The Native American among the young men of color saving them from destructive seduction,” Lindy nodded. “Makes sense, in that it occurs in his ancient homeland, and the others had been either forcibly taken or lured away from theirs. Too bad we’re no longer at Cass Lake.”

“We could still bring Cass Lake here,” I suggested. “We could keep Ger here for a little while longer. Snake pays him enough. It means separating him from Vance, but just for a couple months, and he would be guaranteed a major role. And Snake’s money would help convince any of the other Lakota who we befriended and who might be interested to join him.”

“Maybe Stan,” said Tash.

“I think Harvard will keep him busy,” I argued.

Everyone nodded. His classes had already interfered with his involvement, causing his participation in rehearsal to be exclusively late, and for him to be a frequent user of the Buzz limo service to get him to and from campuses. Somehow he found time to study between rehearsals, and Nick’s Tales before they temporarily went on hold, and relieving ladies of their horniness, particularly Consuela and Tilda. The black man, former Chippendale dancer equal in size and grace, understudied and would actually take his roles during some of the performances. Along with his place between the thighs of favored women, sometimes joining Stan there.

“I want copies of the play and the story,” Tash insisted.

I nodded. We relaxed, kissed and slept. Waking early. Lindy early, to begin Lindy’s hardcore rehearsals.

It turned out, like pretty much everyone else, Tash hated my barroom play. “It’s way too poetic,” she said. Since I hadn’t looked at it for a while, when I did, I had to agree. “But,” she added, “I kind of like the structure.”

“Building on the guilt,” I nodded. “The destruction of the woman and her revenge. Perhaps a Lakota woman.”

“My thoughts exactly. And that actually works with the story, which, by the way, I liked.”

“Thanks. But that means the Lakota man participated in his own kind’s destruction.”

“Again lured by the consequences of White Man’s poison.”

“True,” I smiled.

We began outlining the play. It proved more challenging than any of our other plays had been. I think the collaboration, including Lindy’s involvement, made us enjoy the challenge. And in fact without the collaboration, I doubt we would have persisted. I’m glad we did. It turned out to be an incredibly powerful theatrical event. Like the best delay of sexual gratification, the time it took to stage it made its achievement all the more intense.

The two weekends of Lindy’s showcase proved incredibly successful. And while the first weekend only filled half to three quarters of the theater, we sold out the second. Such is word of mouth. And glowing reviews.

Every night, Thursday through Saturday, and the late Sunday matinee, involved unique performances. Each began with the Double Q performing Angelique’s music, mostly older pieces. Lindy’s choreography followed. And then the plays. All different each evening. The music, the dancing, the plays. Tash’s play from the ACT workshop began the weekend, and her newest play, inspired by events involving two eternal wanderers and her, ended it. In between were “The Perfect Drug,” my play from the workshop, with me starring with my first wife and Stan taking Nick’s role, and Lindy’s play on Saturday, the most popular night, at least on the first weekend. Like I said before, we sold out the second.

We, or Nick actually, offered a choice between separate tickets to individual shows or a sort of Lindyfest ticket including all of them. That actually cost more than the individual ones, because it also offered staying in fancy rooms at the old dormitory, or, if they filled, accommodations at nearby hotels with a buzz clone or two ferrying the audience to and from the theater using rented shuttle buses. Also included were coupons to eat at the campus cafeteria/deli. A pretty good deal, all in all, considering Nick’s expense paying for the best rooms in the hotels, although those lucky enough to get rooms in the refurbished dormitory, essentially free to Nick, had the better accommodations.

Those sold out for both weekends, and Nick’s expense paying for hotel rooms, hardly needed for the first weekend, became far greater on the second.

And then there were those who didn’t need to pay, at least for the tickets. They had tickets in order to be sure there would be enough for everyone. Aside from the obvious, Xo’s and Nick’s angels not performing, Tilda and Rachel, though they actually shared the ticket office, mostly they involved my friends and family. JB, who shared an apartment with Sheila. My sister, who dragged her boyfriend with her from Boston for a couple nights, including Friday and my performance in my play. She ended up staying with my parents, who decided to rent a hotel room, after the Saturday performance. They got free tickets as well, of course, though my dad insisted on paying for the hotel room. Something about not using one of the dormitory apartments. Simon’s suggestion perhaps. I don’t know.

Bob and Michiko and Seraphine came the second weekend. I made sure they got an apartment for themselves. I never joined them. I thought Michiko might insist, but she no longer needed me. “I’m pregnant,” she told me. Seraphine winked. I thought only she and I knew it had to be Bob’s. But I saw no upset in Bob’s face. I learned, not much later, when we went to Gia’s bed for some much appreciated bondage, for Gia doing the bounding as much as for Seraphine getting bound, that Seraphine told Bob about the subterfuge. “They’re getting married,” Seraphine beamed. “And you’re definitely invited. After all, they’ll want the marriage night to be theirs and wouldn’t want me suffering.”

“I want to come, too,” the infamously coldhearted, absolutely stunning Asian, Simon’s former angel assassin grinned and kissed her favorite submissive.

I chuckled.

“Of course,” said Seraphine, the voluptuous French Jewess almost showing her past haughty nature in her smirk.

“It’s not for you to decide, Vache,” Gia growled.

Seraphine shivered and moaned quietly. Apparently not quiet enough. “Stop mooing, Vache,” Gia growled, “And let me see those udders.” Seraphine quickly complied. And eagerly, obviously, when I could smell her desire emanating from her pussy, stripped of its barrier. “Kneel before your master,” Gia insisted, spanking our slave. “Suck the spunk from him.” Obeying, eyes pleading, Seraphine gingerly found my hand and placed it on her head. I knew what she wanted even if I didn’t want to. Even so, I did little to guide her deep throat. She didn’t even need to tap my thigh to pull off me, even if she were able. Gia had tied her hands. Perhaps my reluctance to skull fuck her had something to do with that. Though not forcing the fuck, it seemed enough to have my hand there. I could tell she nearly came. “If you cum, you’ll regret it,” Gia growled, ever perceptive of her victims.

Perhaps to save her, or perhaps because of her active throat, or perhaps because I missed her, or perhaps because I actually liked this, I came pretty quickly.

“Good Vache,” Gia praised her slave. “Now me.” The Oriental beauty sat at the end of the bed, naked, her thighs wide. Seraphine knee-walked between them and lowered her mouth. “Mmm,” Gia approved, lying back. “Joe,” she asked me, “could you prop my head with a pillow and bring me your cock to play with?”

“Of course,” I smiled and did as requested. While lying beside her, my face near her pussy, watching Seraphine’s tongue and lips work, Gia’s mouth and hand doing hers for me, I played with Gia’s perfect, buoyant breasts, aiding our slave’s efforts in getting her off.

It took a while, I imagined Gia making it take longer to be a difficult master, but the delay must have intensified her orgasm. It shook her and she moaned loudly around my rock-hard shaft. “Fuck me, Joe,” she moaned.

I crawled between her muscled thighs, Seraphine moving as quickly as she could to make room for me there. I took hold of them and pushed her higher on the bed. While positioning her, I thrust in slowly, enjoying her tight heat. “Yes!” she moaned.

I looked back at our slave, knowing she still needed to remain silent. Her worried, complicated expression sought an answer. “Lie on the bed beside her, Vache,” I ordered. “And kiss her.”

By her smile, I knew my order pleased her. Gia’s mouth occupied, my mouth and one hand continued working her breasts. The other hand grabbed her incredible tight ass while I fucked her slowly. Despite the slowness, after several minutes Gia reached orgasm. I kept fucking through it, and when it abated, I ramped up the thrusts. It moved her towards a much quicker orgasm. Her legs wrapped around my thighs and encouraged even more speed. I had no problem accepting the request, feeling my own need to cum with the intensified friction. Contemplating bringing her mind into the moment, I decided to wait. I wanted all three of our minds together for that.

Gia came, and I came shortly afterwards. Our slave kissed both of us. “Suck his cum out of me,” Gia demanded and Seraphine happily obliged her, kneeling between her legs and slurping. The sound and the sight encouraged resurrection. But it waited full engorgement for the next step.

“Good enough,” said Gia. “Now on the bed, face down.” Gia worked her magic with ropes, having Seraphine hang slightly over the bed without too much pain and without anything pulling against her abdomen, where my baby grew. While she worked, she had Seraphine’s mouth and throat make me hard again. My hand once more held her head, but mostly to control the swaying.

“Good enough,” Gia pronounced. “Would you slip underneath her, Joe?”

“Of course,” I grinned.

The way she had been trussed, by lowering her hips, Seraphine’s pussy lowered enough to be completely filled by my cock. I took hold of those hips and controlled her, releasing a hand to give her a spank. After a lingering kiss, I shifted my head lower to grip her hanging nipples with lips. Later it would be teeth.

The rope held her legs wide. I felt Gia’s knees slide along my legs as she climbed to that wide open space. I stilled the fucking while Gia greased Seraphine’s back hole. I kept Seraphine from moving when she seemed to want to. She couldn’t quite stifle the sound she made when the dildo entered her. “Quiet, Vache,” Gia growled, spanking her harder than I had.

Once the double fuck began, controlled by Gia of course, I could sense quietness became more and more difficult for our slave. Gia helped by gagging her with a ball. The fuck became stronger, harder faster. Seraphine began to tremble. Gia finally relented, removing the ball and whispering into her slave’s ear, “Cum for us, Vache. Let us hear our slut.”

Seconds later, she did cum, keening with pleasure. I helped it happen with some chewing on her nipples. I added to it exponentially when I brought her consciousness and Gia’s into mine, triggering my orgasm and Gia’s and creating a feedback loop of absolute pleasure for all three of us to experience. After a minute of pure bliss, it ended, unconsciousness for all participants making it impossible to sustain.

“Wow,” I heard when I awoke.

“Mmm,” was all the agreement our slave could express. “Ooh,” she added when Gia carefully extracted her dildo.

“Better clean this up,” said the beautiful assassin.

“But...” I said.

Seraphine giggled. “I’m fine Joe.” She leaned down and kissed me, as deeply and lovingly as possible in her weakened state.

During the kiss, we heard Gia return and begin releasing her slave. “You never cease amazing me, Joe,” she said.

“Thanks,” I replied after ending the kiss. “But I get to feel it, too.”

“Still,” said Gia, leaning down to get her own kiss. While finishing releasing Seraphine from her bonds, Seraphine and I returned to kissing. Once done, Gia joined us in bed, sharing my lips with Seraphine. “Sleep, you two,” she essentially commanded. “I’m going to go visit Chen.”