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We woke up way too early, Lindy bouncing on our bed. I looked at the clock. It was half past six. Lindy had recovered her natural wake up time.

"We need a full day today," Lindy explained. "I want to work on the two pieces before Sam and Barnaby arrive at the chateau. I expect them around 10."

"Sure," I said, getting a kiss from my annoying lover, making her much less annoying.

"See you in half an hour," she said too brightly before practically skipping out of the bedroom.

"Where's Christa?" I asked.

"Went to bed alone," my wife told me. "I did kiss her goodnight."

"That's good I guess. What are you doing?" I asked Eva. She had taken my hand, opening the palm.

"Wait," she said and leaned back to turn on the bedside light. She examined my palm again. "It's gone. No scar."

"Really?" I said. I had peeled off the Band-Aid that covered the wound Eva had caused just after rehearsal ended the day before and saw the wound had a crust that sealed it. I ended up scratching that away some time later. But I couldn't even tell where it had been. "You're right. Wow."

"What's up?" asked my wife.

Eva told her about our experiment.

"Hmm," my wife said. We left it at that for the moment.

Occasionally we discussed it in an oddly sparse way, partly to keep those not in the know about immortals around them from catching it. But mostly I think we needed time to contemplate.

"What about Nick's companions?" I asked. "Did they gain longevity?"

"Your mother's nearing eighty, isn't she?" I pointed out later. "She seems awfully spry."

"Mom's spry and youthful," Helena answered me later. "But she is aging."

"You're different, Joe," said Eva at one point. "Different than any mortal."

"Nick chose you," said Helena another time.

"Simon chose you," said Eva.

"Helen chose you," Helena pointed out.

"You made us pregnant," they both reminded me at different times.

Finally, after lunch, when both Eva and Helena were no longer needed by Lindy, the poem pretty much set, and Barnaby, having observed Eva show him Lindy's choreography, ready to make the movements his own, I pulled them out of the rehearsal space and let Eva guide us to the old oak tree.

"I'm of two opinions," I told them. "One of which makes me feel rather uncomfortable. I think his companions did gain longevity from multiple doses of his sperm or other fluids, and I've consumed quite a lot, along with the fluids of several angels, most of all you two. You may be the youngest, but the quantity probably makes up for the strength age brings. Combine that with the magic that Nick seems to broadcast when he sends Lindy and I and the rest of you to these places he narrates, and as you pointed out we seem refreshed by the experience every time, whatever makes you eternal has been given to me in a large dose. In that case, like your mother, the dosing delays aging, but does not cure one of the fatal quality of being mortal.

"Or, and this I have a hard time accepting, perhaps a little too humble for it, I am more like Nick or Simon or Xo than I'd like to believe. I don't know if you remember when your father said he couldn't remember his birth. I thought it to be a crazy thing to say, so it definitely stuck. But don't these eternal wanderers contain a consciousness that matches their longevity? I mean, if say the plot in a novel can be construed as linear, a directional movement from beginning to end, then descriptions of people, places and things would have a more horizontal aspect, non-linear, spatial. Every step forward through time increases the horizontal access to the world. And being eternal wanderers, access grows ever wider, consciousness ever increasing, awareness as vast as the relentless passage of time is long, or even vaster."

"Ever expanding minions," said Eva.

"And memories, always accumulating," Helena added. "How could he fit all that information in the space of a brain?"

"Billions of neurons," I shrugged. "Or he could use you and his minions as storage as well."

"What do you mean?" asked Helena.

"Like storing data in the Cloud with computers," Eva nodded.

"Exactly," I smiled.

"But what does that have to do with you?" asked Helena.

"Hopefully nothing, but what I'm getting at is, not only are they remarkably immortal, but their consciousness has to be just as remarkable. If Nick had been Nick at his birth, he would have known. He would have remembered."

"But we're immortal at birth," Helena pointed out. "And I don't remember it."

"But do you have such a consciousness?" I asked.

"So, you're like a chrysalis," Eva figured out. "Your mortal body develops an immortal one."

I shrugged. "Something about me attracts their attention. Maybe my sperm is all, producing future eternal wanderers in your wombs. It is a significant aspect of them."

Suddenly Helena looked upset. "Father not only forgot his birth, but he forgot his mortal stage. Joe!" She hugged me and cried into my chest.

"This is pure speculation, my love," I said, combing through her thick raven hair. "Besides, I wouldn't forget you. You'd be right there at the unveiling or whatever."

"But you wouldn't remember us," she sniffled, "together, falling in love."

"It would be impossible to forget that," I argued. "My life only began then."

She slapped my chest, restrained slaps but still painful. "You thought I was impossible," she moaned.

Taking her hands perhaps more in defense than to pull her into looking at me, nevertheless I made sure our eyes met. "It won't happen. If nothing else, I can find those memories in others and in you. I doubt your father had that option or that desire to remember."

"He must have had some memory of who he was," said Eva. "Unless he became a tabla rasa, like an amnesiac, and those around him had to fill him in."

I cringed. "You're not helping, Eva."

"You don't think I'm afraid of the possibility as well?"

I saw her pooling eyes. "Come here, sweetheart," I said, and had two angels to comfort. "I'm sorry I brought it up. It's pure speculation."

"Maybe not," said Eva dully. "It sort of makes sense. And we have no way to know. My father, Helena's father, they don't remember."

"If we ever find out it's true," said Helena, "I hope it's not for a long time."

"Me too."

"But," she whimpered, "then there'd be more of our time together for you to forget."

"Shit. I'm so fucking sorry I brought this up."

"You're just too smart for your own good," said Eva.

"Right," I responded ironically.

For some reason that made us all laugh.

"Let's go swimming," Eva suddenly said. "It's fucking hot, and the Chateau has a fantastic pool." She popped out of my arms and grabbed my hand. "Come on."

She tugged me through the shrub and I pulled Helena along.

"First," I said, "we have nothing to wear."

"You don't need anything. I definitely have nothing to hide. Do you, Helena?"

"Thick thighs?"

"Sexy thighs. Come on."

"And," I continued, "there's the safety issue with your father and your fellow angels."

"Fuck them."

"I'm afraid they'll fuck us."

Eva stopped and looked into my eyes. "Do you trust me?"

I nodded.

"Helena?"

She nodded.

"I made a deal with Father. He fucks with you, and I abort the child."

"What about him attempting my kidnapping?"

"You weren't supposed to remember if he had succeeded."

"He wanted to change my mind, literally," I said.

"Pretty much, and that had to do with the chemistry Nick likes to point out."

"My kidnapping?" Helena asked Eva.

"A distraction. Miwa would never have let me, and she's older. Helen was fairly useless if you remember. Of course none of that became necessary."

Helena and I exchanged looks and nods. Her face went black. "Father thinks it's a bad idea. Fuck him. But he wants two angels nearby."

"Who?" I asked.

"Betty and Naomi."

"Cool," I said. "Invite them to swim."

"Father will probably match them," said Eva.

"Whatever," both Helena said simultaneously, and we all laughed.

"Last one in's a rotten egg," Eva challenged with a giggle, darting away.

"Hey," I said. "No fair."

Helena laughed as we ran after our lover. "Sucks to be a rotten egg," she said. I laughed too.

The huge pool, luxurious, with Neptune as a merman depicted in tile at the bottom and blue/green water nymph statues decorating the corners, may have been ostentatious, but it had a quality of taste to it as well. Eva looked tasty sitting on a webbed faux leather plastic chair, removing the last of her leotard from her feet. Her all over tan looked perfect.

Helena had almost pasty white skin when I met her, while remnants of Hawaii still tinted mine. We had sunbathed in Greece nude. I found out angels don't burn. I had swathed on protection for my skin, Helena most delightfully helped apply it on my back and my dick, but remnants of my earlier tan probably kept me from burning as well. So, though not as tan as Eva, and I still had slight differences between my hips, butt and crotch area and the rest of me, our skin held a healthy color.

Of course, having more clothes to remove—Helena only had a light mauve sun dress, bra and panties to contend with wearing slip-on sandals that she slipped right off—my rotten egg status was assured. I didn't mind watching two extraordinarily sexy bodies become revealed, probably delaying my unveiling even more. I suppose if there had been more than us there, my cock springing out at near full erection might have embarrassed me. Then again, at that point in my life, it might not have.

So the shock I felt when I neared the edge of the pool, about to dive in, and Eva said to someone, "Why don't you join us?" I think had more to do with being certain it was just the three of us, like having someone pop up out of nowhere and scaring me, than it did worrying about a stranger witnessing the bobbing of my erection. My clumsy dive into the pool caused my mean lovers to giggle.

I turned to see who had been addressed. Seraphine, the youngest Jewess, stood at the edge of the patio that surrounded the pool apparently coming from the direction of the back door that led to the basement. For some reason I felt her placement hid her actual path, that of eavesdropper or spy or voyeur, the last most likely since she had watched Consuela and I making love in the Chateau.

Catching my eyes, she smirked, and began unbuttoning her sleeveless white blouse. I turned away and began swimming underwater, circling Eva like a predatory fish. When I surfaced, I embraced the gorgeous blonde, who embraced me right back, her legs clutching around my hips. We were in a place in the pool where I could stand up and have my shoulders just above the surface of the water

"Joe," my wife murmured, swimming towards us, "she wants you to watch. She stopped stripping as soon as you stopped looking."

"So?" I replied.

"She does have a great body," Eva told me.

I chuckled. "I'm afraid that's not the lure it once was."

"Even your wife stripping had you ogling her, Joe," Eva reminded me. "And you've seen her naked dozens of times. Give her what she wants. You want it too."

So I watched, as did my lovers, Eva turning around in my arms, her back pressed against my chest and her butt rested just above my expanding cock, and my wife pressing her breasts and pussy against my back gazing over my shoulder. Even with the added buoyancy of the water, I had to spread my legs to assure I didn't collapse or topple from their weight, causing the water to reach my chin.

Eva had advised me well. Seraphine had an incredible body. In a way, thick and toned like Lindy, except it definitely curved more, and had the balance better for the typical horny male eye, more abundant breasts and less abundant ass, but both had Lindy's youthful resistance to gravity. And other places, like her shoulders, abdomen and thighs had less thickness, setting off the two places on a woman's body that men lusted after most.

And Seraphine definitely noticed my lust, her eyes continuing to stare into mine. Her smirk expanded into a feral, predatory smile. She slinked to the edge of the pool and dove in, surfacing beside us.

"You're hot," said my wife.

"Am I?" she directed the question to me.

I laughed. "Did Michiko realize she was more an inconvenience than a third party?" I asked her.

"I wouldn't say that," the Jewess replied. "Robert's little girlfriend definitely knew her way around my cunt." (I should mention that Seraphine spoke English like an American, more specifically like a cultured Manhattanite. I guessed Columbia University or maybe NYU for at least some of her college experience. But her Parisian accent remained strong, and "Robert" got the French treatment, second syllable emphasized.)

"And I suppose she received nothing in return," I surmised. "Probably did all the oral work."

"I let Bob fuck her the third time he got hard," she shrugged, "and I let her lick up Robert's cum out of my cunt. I'd suck your cock, Joe. I think I'd even enjoy it. Magnifique," she giggled, reaching for the subject, which had begun losing tumescence.

Helena slapped the hand away, or at least shoved it, since water slowed her effort. "Joe and I like sharing out conquests," my wife explained.

"Eva?" Seraphine shifted her attention, her voice losing certainty. Eva had moved her body so it pressed against my side opposite from Seraphine, her hand holding my penis, feeling it deflate.

"You have the subtlety of a rampaging cow, Seraphine," Eva muttered.

"What would be the point?" Seraphine cringed at the insult, too careful with Simon's angel to attempt any witty retort. "Neither Robert nor Michiko knew the score, while you and Helena do. Even your mortal lover knows. I had to seduce them, especially the woman, in order to get Robert's seed," she shrugged.

"Of course," said Eva. "And to be certain you had a nice Jewish baby, Simon wanted Joe to fuck you just in case. If possible. If you could land him. Like I said, crushing him like a cow might not have been your cleverest move."

"If I made a move for Helena," Seraphine responded, "she would have known it was feigned."

"So? Maybe you would have to charm her, maybe even befriend her to get what you want. Unlike your bitch nature, Helena happens to be a really sweet woman, and if nothing else, she'd enjoy the attempt. No, Seraphine, you definitely lost your tact on this one. And you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you really really want to fuck Joe, with or without Simon's urging. In fact, you fantasize having him and his glorious cock all to yourself. You know that will never happen, and not just his wife would object. But okay, since I am Simon's angel, I guess I'll do you a favor. Helena?"

"She's hot," said Helena.

"I told you."

"What do you think, Joe?" my wife asked me.

"She's built for sex," I agreed. "But even if she liked you, which I doubt, she's definitely straight."

"We could watch," Eva suggested, giggling when she felt me harden. "I can tell Joe won't object to fucking her."

"How could he?" my wife grinned.

"Helena, isn't this a little more unfair to you than usual?" I pointed out. "I mean, didn't you practically kick Christa out of bed because she really only wanted you? And I didn't even mind all that much, except she wanted you all to herself, if only for a week. Any other lovers I've had have been your angel sisters, or little trysts with friends, or, with Lindy, a sort of continuation of a relationship that coincided with our falling in love, not to mention how much you respect each other."

"What about Consuela and Angelique?" Helena reminded me.

"Or Helen," Eva added.

"Fuck Helen," both my wife and I replied, remembering her playing with my wife's head or my body, or more especially, my sperm, readying it's deliverance to impregnate her clones.

"Or not," Eva said, and we three laughed.

Helena immediately became serious. "The point is, Joe, you are a stud, literally, but you are my stud. You will always be mine just like I always will be yours no matter how many pussies you fuck or wombs you fill with babies. And as far as your work as a stud, just like your passion as a lover and your brilliance as a writer, I happen to be your biggest fan. I don't know why; maybe because from the beginning I shared you with my fellow angels and knew it meant fucking the greatest pussies any man has ever fucked, not to mention their cocksucking skills or how incredibly beautiful they all are, but I actually like that you get to fuck them, or the other women in your life. I like that you get to enjoy such incredible experiences. And even more, to be just a little selfish, I love the fact that, in the end, it's me you come home to."

"Me too," Eva smiled.

"So?" asked the Jewess.

"I'm not fucking you in the chateau," I replied. "It's proven to be a bit too dangerous, and I'd definitely be vulnerable, even if Helena shares our bed."

"The pool house," Eva suggested, nodding towards the small cabin at the edge of the pool patio that seemed to fade into the background. "And there's an enormous bed in there."

"The orgy room," Seraphine grinned excitedly. "Let's go," she purred, pulling on my arm.

"Not yet," I smirked and doused her with a wave of water scooped up by my free arm. It felt like I doused a queen with her proud face and elegant neck. Even naked, though reduced, her regal bearing remained. The dousing definitely reduced that further.

"Merde," she sputtered, and returned my attack to a far lesser degree. But allies soon joined her, my cruel and traitorous lovers, and I got well doused by them. Worse, they conspired to pull me under the water.

When I ducked under the attack, swimming away several feet, I heard, "Need some help?" and saw both Betty and Naomi skimming out of their clothing. They had their eyes gazing across the pool where a blonde I recognized as one of Simon's angels and Gia, his oriental one, mirrored Nick's angels, stripping naked at the same pace.

"Better hurry," I requested, watching my enemy approach me with evil glints in their eyes. Beautiful, naked bodies all dove into the water. Helena defected once again, joining her sister angels against Simon's. The normally still blue water probably never got so disturbed.

Laughter and curses lasted several minutes as everyone had lots of fun. The inevitable truce came when Seraphine rushed towards me, and instead of sending water to splash me, her body enveloped mine. Her amazing body felt great, but her overly aggressive kiss nearly bruised my lip. I pulled her head away, using her hair still pinned regally on top. The bit of pain I gave her in the pulling I used to control her. I gave her several gentle kisses, eyes opening between them to gaze into her big, beautiful, dark brown eyes. Only when they softened, and her lips met mine with equal gentleness, did I let go of her hair and sustain a lengthy kiss which became appropriately French at my instigation. She purred into my mouth, and her groin pressed against my lower abdomen where pussy lips trapped an elongating cock and moved up and down on it.

Breaking the kiss, once again pulling her head back using her hair, I growled, "Time for you to get fucked, bitch."

Her face reflected her confusion. I assumed, unless maybe Simon fucked her, she had never been so dominated. She wanted to retain her dominance, and yet she wanted me to fuck her. Also, and most importantly, I could see my control over her turned her on.

After pulling her out of the pool, I practically flung her in front of me. "Strut like a slut," I demanded, and watched her voluptuous ass move sensually as her feet stepped one in front of the other creating the maximum effect of a runway model. The sight made my cock ready to fuck her.

We entered the orgy room, nearly completely filled by an obscenely large bed, walls covered by a mural depicting nymphs and satyrs cavorting explicitly, the satyr's legs looking like legs of goats almost suggesting bestiality, though I barely acknowledged the painting, focusing on the slut who demanded being fucked. Before she completed a turn to face me, I grabbed her by her cunt and across her breasts and tossed her face down on the bed.

I had felt her heat and dampness, but also felt it needed more slickness. Pulling her magnificent ass up and separating her legs, I pushed her face into the bed. When she tried to roll onto her side, though not very aggressively, I slapped her ass and grabbed her arm, pulling it behind her. "Don't move, bitch," I growled.

She did move some as I pleasured her with my mouth. Just a bit of writhing, but I still punished her with slaps on her reddening ass cheeks. That hand, when not spanking, added to my molestation of her sweet if rather large pussy. Fingers got shoved in, fucking her pussy with aggression. When they found her g-spot, they attacked it with vigor. Her moans, somewhat muffled by the bed, revealed her nearness to cumming. Her increased writhing, despite the punishment it provoked, also revealed it. My one hand busy, I let the other one, which had let her hand go and had been pinching and twisting her hanging nipples, or her utters as I called them, with ever more aggressive pressure, do the spanking. After delivering three spanks, I wetted its thumb in the abundant fluid leaking from her cunt, giving her clit an extra strong rub which my rasping tongue couldn't quite give before shoving the thumb into her anus.

"Mon Dieu," she moaned extra loudly into the bed. And with one hard suck of her clit, I released it, knee walked between her legs, kneeling over her, and guided my glans to her quivering, swollen cunt lips. With one shove, my cock filled her cunt.

Unexpectedly, what with the wideness of her cunt which barely gave me friction unlike nearly all pussies I had fucked before, my cock ended up bouncing rather harshly against her cervix with less than an inch of its length left to be buried. Her moan reported her pain, but with a hint of pleasure remaining. And her body did shiver a bit.

I measured the length available and proceeded to fuck her hard and fast, allowing the glans to barely brush the barrier, which caused both her and me extra excitement.

"Squeeze your teats, milk your utters, vache," I ordered. "My hands are busy."

She did, grunting with every completed thrust of my cock. My hands worked her anus and clit. The thumb in her asshole had been exchanged for saliva wetted fingers. My other thumb worked her clit while fingers helped tighten the space of her cunt while continuing the aggressive rub of her g-spot.

Her grunts ended. Her body tightened. She trembled. She squealed. I kept the relentless pounding going through her climax, my balls drowning in the nectar she released, seeming to be pulled out with each retreat of my bulbous knob like pulling water out of a well.

I couldn't last forever. I felt my balls exclaiming their need for release. I resisted as much as I could. But I couldn't slow down to ease back from the precipice. I had to remain relentless. Instead I fucked her even faster.

"I'm about to give you what you wanted," I growled quietly, almost malevolently. "You better cum with me, slut."

"Ffffuck!" she exclaimed, doing as ordered as my last thrust pressed against her cervix, delivering seed through it. The power of my climax had my body undulating with each ejaculation, my cock head pressing ever harder against her barrier, but not banging against it, so I figured it caused her no pain. And in fact her orgasm seemed to extend and expand, making me think the pressure produced the opposite result. And my cock became the teat her throbbing pussy milked.

After she collapsed and I collapsed on top of her, I heard a familiar voice.

"That was intense," said Eva breathlessly, my wife's fingers easing out of her pussy, shiny with juice. Helena lay spooned behind her lover. Eva's reddened cheeks and upper chest revealed she'd joined us in ecstasy.

"Get off me, you oaf," muttered Seraphine. I spanked her hard with the last bit of strength I could summon.

"Shut up, Vache," I said.

Her sniffling reply surprised me. "Am I a cow?" she muttered.

I chuckled, but without malevolence. "You do have udders, my proud slut, but they are definitely delightfully human. I don't think I've seen nor felt such wonderful mammary glands in any mortal I have encountered."

"Really?" she almost squeaked, her ass twitching causing a last delightful caress of my penis just before it exited her saturated twat, releasing copious liquids onto the bed and sighs from both of us.

I gave her a spank, extra gentle this time, followed by a gentle rub on her fabulous ass. "Fishing for compliments, Princess? I would think that would be below you."

She stiffened and swiftly slipped out from underneath me. When she threatened to escape the bed I grabbed her, but my weakened state made it a fragile hold. "Whoah," I shouted. "You're not done with me yet, slut. A little help?" I begged my lovers.

"Hey, I'll insult my half-sister," said Eva, "but I won't manhandle her."

"Got her," said my wife an instant later, grabbing her other arm and hoisting her with superhuman strength back onto the middle of the bed. I straddled her chest, laying my penis and balls in the space between her breasts.

"Tête de merde," she cursed me.

"Easy, slut. What's wrong? I thought you wanted to suck my cock?" Grabbing her breasts, I made a hole of them surrounding my penis, pulling on it, bringing it out of its flaccid state.

"Baiseur," she muttered.

"Tell me," I growled.

"Never call me Princess," she finally admitted. "Only my father calls me Princess."

I heard the misery within the word. "Not an endearment?"

"Usually it followed 'stuck-up, '" she grimaced.

I couldn't help chuckling again. "Bitch, you are stuck-up."

"I ... I'm proud, proud of who I am. I'm not ... I try not to be. Father..."

"What does he do after he calls you that?" I asked while continuing to harden my cock. She'd taken interest in my success and something else. A moan seeped from her mouth. My wife began demonstrating her talented tongue, delving inside the Jewess and pulling out my cum, winking at me while smacking her lips and returning to the cream pie.

"He ... slaps me. I mean he did. Not for a while. I grew up. Stopped being a petulant fool."

"You mean you stopped rebelling," I guessed.

"Whatever," she gasped.

"Don't be petulant, bitch," I growled, "or I'll shove this down your throat." I lifted my cock, still not at full stiffness, but recovering with remarkable speed, and placed the glans at her lips.

She glared at me, and yet that spark of excitement at being dominated couldn't help being seen. Her hand gripped my cock, rubbing it carefully while her tongue slid from her mouth and dabbed at it. "Wrap your lips around it and swathe it with your tongue," I ordered her. More instructions really, since I figured she hadn't had much experience sucking cock. Removing her hand, I spit into its palm and returned it to my shaft, my hand taking hers and guiding her pressure and movement. "You know enough not to use teeth, slut," I growled.

When she nodded, her lips pressed back and forth across the sensitive edges of my glans. "Keep doing that, bitch," I commanded.

Not only did she obey, but her lips tightened on it, as did her fist on my shaft. She had me fully hard soon after.

"Well done, slut," I told her. "Let's see how deep I can go." I pushed slowly until I felt her palate and her uvula. Her discomfort became obvious, so I moved back and measured and thrust just deep enough. "Keep fisting me, bitch," I ordered. "Use your other hand to caress my balls, but you better fucking be gentle."

I began fucking her mouth, but with far more care than I had fucked her pussy. I pulled it out completely at times and had her lick along the bottom, including my balls which she probably appreciated being clean shaven. During one of those moments, with her mouth free to talk, she asked me, "You're not going to cum in my mouth, are you?"

"I prefer you silent, bitch," I growled, shoving my cock back between her lips, "but I'll cum in you or on you wherever I please." I saw her worry. "It probably won't be in your mouth. It would take too long, and I don't wish to strain your pretty mouth too much." When she still looked worried, I sighed and pulled my cock out, shifting lower and pulled her tits around my cock again, giving myself a titty fuck.

"What?" I growled. "Speak, bitch."

"You're supposed to plant your seed," she reminded me, her voice remarkably submissive.

I chuckled. "I seem to recall doing that already."

"But ... we have to make sure."

"Slut," I smirked, "You got my full load, brewing all day, full of millions of very capable sperm."