Walt’s Gift Ch. 03

Walt’s Gift Ch. 03

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[This is a story about a polyfidelity family. It would help if you read “Walt’s Gift” by Scorpio44 and “Walt’s Gift Ch. 2” by Scorpio44A. The places described exist. Most of the people in the story are a lot like people I have known or wish I’d known. If you don’t believe a marriage could exist between more than two people, and work for all of them, this story will be way out there for you. I happen to believe such a family could work, and the energy would be incredible.]

The Reprise…

Life tends to take patterns. When we repeat them often enough, they become rituals. We get up in the morning, do a ritual in the bathroom, another in the kitchen and we go to work. While we work we tend to do the same things, over and over. On the radio this morning I heard about a doctor who advertises that he has done lasik surgery fifty-seven thousand times. I’m sure he has a ritual for before each surgery, during the surgery and another ritual for after.

Before my Dad died my life was like that. I lived a quiet regular life in Newark. My roommate John worked for an insurance company. I worked for a civil engineering company. We had our rituals for every morning. Three nights a week we ate at a neighborhood Italian restaurant. Friday nights we went to a sports pub, drank four beers with dinner and watched sports on their big screen TV. Saturday we both did laundry, cleaned the apartment and John went out. Rituals.

Once in a while something happened to interrupt the rituals. One of those interruptions was a phone call from Los Angeles telling me my Dad had a heart attack and I needed to get to L.A. as soon as possible. On the flight to L.A. I thought about how long this interruption might last. A week, maybe two was what I thought.

I arrived in L.A. and my sister took me to see Dad in the hospital. Two hours later he was gone. Mom had passed a few years before Dad. He stayed just long enough that day to give me my inheritance: an apartment building and the five tenants. Five women. By the time the funeral happened I understood that the rituals of my past were gone and they wouldn’t ever be back.

The five women, Pat in apartment 2, Helen in 3, Maria in 4, Krystn in 5 and Linda in 6 all had been in love with my Dad. In love with and his lovers. He had prepared them to accept me as his replacement, in their hearts and lives. No one prepared me for the transition. I was in shock and they helped me get past shock, awe and panic.

I went back to Newark to get my stuff. Pat (apartment 2) went with me. She had been a trucker and loved road trips. On the way back to Los Angeles we stopped to say Hi to Krystn’s (apartment 5) sister and family. We walked into an on-going problem we didn’t know about. They were in the midst of a divorce. We put Inga and her stuff in the truck and drove to Los Angeles as a threesome. I hadn’t gotten my head wrapped around being The Man for five women and it had become six!

Chapter Three…

As soon as we unpacked the truck and I went to work at the L.A. office of the company I worked for, the seven of us started establishing patterns of behavior and rituals. Inga (Krystn’s sister) had spent her life cooking, cleaning and taking good care of her family. Since they were back in Nebraska and had said they didn’t want or need her any more, she turned her skills on us. She took on the cooking, cleaning, laundry and whatever duties around our little enclave by the beach. Pat was the general manager of a small trucking company. Her at-work rituals had been established for years. At home she adapted to having me and another new woman in the family. Helen adapted at home to no longer worrying about what to cook for dinner. Maria adapted by taking Inga under her wing as a new girl-friend, in the sexiest of meanings. Each member of our family adapted and created new rituals.

By the time I had lived in our enclave of joy for three months we had a ritual of who slept with me when. Maria slept with me on Mondays, Inga on Tuesdays, Two on Wednesdays, Krystn on Thursdays, Pat on Fridays and Helen on Saturday. For some Christians Sunday is known as a day of rest. It had never been a night of solitude for me in all the time since Dad died. Rest sometimes, but not alone. Sometimes I went to bed in my apartment (number 1) and just as often I was invited to spend the night in the apartment and bed of whichever lady I was scheduled to be with. Inga always stayed in my apartment when we slept together. She didn’t have an apartment. There were only six.

We had created rituals and they became automatic. Something about that process seems to deaden the mind. Every one of us stopped thinking as much about the relationships. We did what was in front of us to do. That is, if we saw it, if it was part of our ritual. If we didn’t see it, we probably didn’t think about it.

I will be grateful to a guy on the radio for a very long time. As I walked home from work one day I listened to the radio. I thumbed through the stations looking, no, kızılay escort listening for something good. I heard a guy talking. He was asking the host for ideas of something romantic and unusual he could get his wife for her birthday.

The host mentioned all the things most men think of; roses, jewelry, clothes, a weekend trip somewhere, and the caller said, “Been there, done that” to all of those ideas. The host told the caller to listen and he’d open the topic up for all the listeners to call in. Before I got home I’d heard a dozen great ideas. Most of them called in by women.

“Take her to a day spa for the full treatment! Hair, facial, nails and massage.”

“Send her shopping on a Saturday and while she’s gone have a crew in to super clean the house.”

“Have a surprise party for her at a restaurant, so there’s nothing to clean up!”

“Give her some Love Coupons. She can cash them in whenever she wants, for a dinner out, a weekend away, her car detailed, a massage.”

As I walked through the doors into our castle I realized I didn’t know any of their birthdays! I knew my sister’s but no one else’s. How could I find out without acknowledging how asleep I had been?

I was met by Inga. We kissed and she talked with me about the happenings of the day and asked what I wanted for dinner. It was Tuesday. Our ritual was that on Tuesdays I picked what we all had for dinner. I asked her what I usually answered.

“You pick enchiladas, Shepard’s pie, meatloaf or once in a while, ribs.” She said.

“Could we have spaghetti?”

“Sure! A little something different. I’ll make a salad to go with it. Do you like garlic bread?”

“I love it!” I kissed her and went into number one. I sat at my desk, Walt’s desk, Harvey’s old desk and thought. Inside one of the drawers should be their lease agreements. I looked and found them. I made a file in my computer and recorded all the birthdays.

Two was next. Calling her Two had become a rutual. Her name was Linda, just like my sister’s name. When they met Linda said to my sister Linda, “Hi, I’m Linda too.” It became Two and we all called her Two most of the time. It was the middle of July and her birthday was the middle of September. What to do? I wanted it to be special, personal and to set the right precedent for the other birthdays. An hour later an idea came to me.

On the computer I created a survey and printed six copies. After dinner I intended to give each of them a copy, asking for them back within the week. The survey asked four questions: One, what would you like to be able to do at home that we can’t do? Two, Where would you like to go on a vacation? Three, What project would you like support with (emotional support, physical support or financial support)? Four, please describe your ideas for how to celebrate (a birthday, Christmas, Buddha’s birthday, Easter, Halloween, etc.).

Not only would it give me ideas for Two’s birthday but for lots of events in the future. Inga rang a small bell in the courtyard and we all came for dinner. A giant salad bowl sat in the middle of our table. Inga let us know that spaghetti and garlic bread were coming. We dug into the salad and the conversations began.

I helped carry the big pot of spaghetti to the table. Inga was like a lot of Mom’s, she had added the meat sauce to the noodles and mixed. In a restaurant they might pile the sauce on top. Each person gave themselves just as much as they wanted. I noticed Pat and Two didn’t take a lot. Were they intending to lose weight? Neither said so.

Pat and Helen volunteered to help clean up. Somehow clean-up hadn’t become scheduled. Someone always helped Inga with clean-up but it hadn’t gotten formalized enough to be scheduled. Before they began I explained I needed them to fill out a survey. I passed it out and they read it. Even before they had read the page they wanted to talk.

Inga said, “Let’s think about it while we get the courtyard cleaned up. Then we can come back to the table and talk, fill out the survey and laugh.” No one argued.

It didn’t take long and all of us were back at the table. I put a selection of writing tools on the table. Inga brought iced tea and Pat brought coasters and glasses.

Helen read out loud, “One, what would you like to be able to do at home that we can’t do?”

Two immediately spoke. “Sun! The courtyard is private but the sun never gets down here. I’d like to get a tan but we have no where.” As she spoke she wrote it down.

Helen said, “I’d like to ride an exercise bike, but my apartment’s too small. If I put one in the courtyard it’ll get rained on.”

Maria added, “A rowing machine! I used one at a spa I used to go to, and I liked it a lot.”

“Shower with more than one other person.” I said. They all looked at me and I saw the image sink in and smiles came to their faces. I wrote it down.

A minute passed and nothing was added. I read, out loud, kolej escort “Two, Where would you like to go on a vacation?”

Pat was first, “Hawaii, after I lose thirty pounds!” She laughed. Two said, “I want to go, too.”

Krystn and Inga said, “Norway!” Inga added, “According to our Mom we’re related to almost everyone who lives there.”

Helen said, “On a cruise.”

Maria said, “San Miguel Ayende, Costa Rica, Jamaica.”

I added, “San Francisco, Seattle, Alaska, Banff, New Orleans.” Lots of heads nodded.

“Three, What project would you like support with (emotional support, physical support or financial support)?” Krystn read.

Inga opened the discussion. “I want more friends than just us.” We nodded.

Pat added, “She’s right. We have a big loving family and we seem to isolate us from everyone else.”

Helen nodded and said, “There are a couple of people at work I’d like to know better but I haven’t done anything to have that happen. They could become good friends for me and maybe for all of us.”

Pat said, “I need support in losing thirty pounds. Spaghetti and garlic bread won’t do it.”

“That was me.” I said. “I asked Inga for spaghetti. I won’t do it again.”

“Ok.” Pat said. “Can I get some support for losing weight?”

We all nodded. Maria said, “Tomorrow, when we get home, we can go for a walk, you and me.”

Inga spoke up. “I know it’s my job, but once in a while I’d be thrilled to get help in the kitchen, the laundry room or with the shopping.” I nodded. Doing it all isn’t part of being a family. Working together is family.

“I will help in the kitchen every Tuesday.” I said. Inga blew me a kiss. “I think we should each help Inga whenever we can. I’m getting lazy because I know she’ll take care of me. I want to take care of all of you, including Inga.”

Helen wrote a couple things but didn’t say anything.

Inga read, “Four, please describe your ideas for how to celebrate (a birthday, Christmas, Buddha’s birthday, Easter, Halloween, etc.). When Krystn and I were little we got Christmas presents at midnight Christmas eve. One present from each parent and grand-parent.”

Pat said, “From my Dad I got sports equipment or swimsuits. Mom always bought clothes for school. My grandparents gave us books and educational supplies. For birthdays, Christmas, any excuse.”

I popped in. “I didn’t ask for how it was. I want to know your ideas for how celebrations could be. If you had a birthday party next year, how could it be perfect?”

“God! The perfect celebration? I don’t know. I’ll need to think about that one.” Pat said.

“I never want another birthday!” Helen said. “I turned 41 this year and that’s enough!”

Two added, “I read about people in Australia who celebrate events, like graduation, achievements, but not birthdays. We could celebrate promotions, achievements…”

“Like me losing thirty pounds!” Pat said. We all liked her idea. High fives all around.

I asked, “Ok. You lose the thirty pounds. What would be the perfect celebration?”

She thought for a minute, “A camping trip! I used to love riding a bike! I used to love camping! We could ride bikes together somewhere beautiful and camp. I remember sitting around a campfire late at night and being close to everyone there. That’s what I’d want.”

“I’m in.” Two said.

“Me too.” Inga said, “Even though I’ll need to buy a bike and get in shape. It’ll be good for me.”

Helen was writing. We all waited for her to share. She looked up and said, “When I was on my honeymoon we stopped at a hotel in Canada. We didn’t stay there. It was way above what we could afford. We did look at a room and for me the perfect way to really celebrate something big would be to spend a weekend at that hotel, staying in that room overlooking Lake Louise.”

I’d been to that hotel. I asked, “And have high tea?”

Her face lit up with the memory and she whispered, “And a walk along the shore.”

When I went back to apartment One I had all the surveys in my hand. Inga said she would be along in just a few minutes. I sat at the computer and sent the blank survey to my sister and Jack. Then I sent it to John and Nan. In my mind they were family too.

Inga came inside and closed the door. She asked me to get away from the computer and talk with her. I sat in Walt’s old chair and she sat in my lap.

“Why the survey?”

“I’m still getting to know all of you. I want to be the best husband any of you could want. It’ll help if I know what you’d like.”

“Looking at the questions got me thinking. You know I come from a bad background?”

“I met him.”

“Krystn didn’t tell you?”

“I’d known Krystn a week when I met you. Three of those days I was on the road with Pat. No, Krystn didn’t tell me anything.”

“Our father was a physical man. He didn’t say much. When we messed up he hit. Before I was twelve I’d been maltepe escort in hospital twice from him. He broke my collarbone and three bones in my left hand. I lost count of the times he beat my ass, with a belt, a switch or his hand.”

“Damn! I’m so sorry he was like that.”

“When I got married I believed Sven was different. Within a year I knew he was just like my father. He beat me every time I disappointed him. Twenty years of beatings. When Krystn told me about Harvey and then about Walt I called her a liar! I didn’t believe her.”

“And now?”

“And now I have something to confess. I am ashamed to admit this but… I miss the beatings.”

“You miss the broken bones? The bruises?”

“Not the broken bones. The bruises, yes. I convinced myself as a child that when I felt the bruises he loved me. He was trying to teach me to be good, because he loved me!”

“Inga, you’re thirty-seven years old! Are you telling me you want to be beaten?”

“I think I am. Yesterday I was in the market and a stock boy dropped a bottle of juice on the floor and it broke. The manager rushed to the site and raised his hand. I flooded myself. My juices ran down my legs. I realized I had turned the violence into a way to be told I was loved. Just talking to you about it has me soaking wet. I know it’s crazy. There must be something wrong with us.”

“Sven beat you, then fucked you hard.” It wasn’t a question. She nodded.

“You want me to hit you?”

“Spank me. Slap my bare ass and thighs with your hand! Just saying it and I’m close.”

“Get off my lap.” Saying it as an order bothered me. She didn’t hesitate. She stood next to the recliner.

“Take off your pants and panties.” Again, there was no hesitation. I got out of the chair and bent her over the back of the couch. Her bare ass and swollen lips were exposed to me. I slapped her ass with my open hand. It was loud and I wondered who else might hear.

She jumped and stayed quiet. “How many slaps do you need, Bitch?” I added the word Bitch without really knowing why.

“Twenty, my husband. I deserve twenty hard slaps.”

“Then count them.” My hand came down on her ass and she started counting at one. By the time she said six I knew why whips and paddles had been invented. Spanking her hurt!

She spread her legs wider. Slap number seven caught part of her pussy and made a wet sound. She gasped and said “Seven!”

I dropped my pants around my ankles and my erection pointed at her now red butt.

Slap! Slap! Slap! Eight, nine and ten! I stepped close and slid my cock into her. She moaned and then thanked me. I pulled all the way out and slapped her again.

“Eleven!” And, I pushed all the way inside her again. I held still inside her while her ass quivered. It was red and very hot to my touch.

With my cock still buried in her I used both hands to slap both her ass cheeks at once. As my hands landed I pulled out and slammed back in her.

“Twelve! I’m cumming! Oh Nick! I’m cumming!”

I pulled out, slapped her again and shoved back inside as hard as I could. The couch moved a couple inches. She grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. We were done at thirteen. I was amazed to see that I had cum inside her, without knowing I had cum. I went to my bathroom and came back with a moist wash cloth and some tissue. I did not let her clean up. I caught the drippings from her pussy and used the moist cloth to soothe her fiery cheeks.

I picked her up and carried her to bed. I put her on the sheets, face down. Gently I spread lotion and aloe vera on her ass. When her breathing slowed I left her and did my nighttime ritual. After a shower, a shave and brushing my teeth I slowly joined her in bed. She was asleep.

The alarm woke us at six. She got up and used the bathroom. I waited and when it was my turn she went to the kitchen to make breakfast. I dressed and joined her. I got a great kiss and a smile with my “Good Morning, Husband!”

“You Ok about last night?” I asked.

“Of course! You gave me exactly what I wanted and needed. I know you didn’t do it to hurt me. You did it because you want to be the husband I need, even if I’m a little weird.”

“Does it still hurt?”

“Let’s just say I plan to stand a lot today. When I move I can still feel your cock inside me and your hands on my butt!”

I shook my head, accepting what she said as true for her, but not really understanding the thought process.

I carried food out to the courtyard. When I saw Krystn I stopped. ‘Does she want rough behavior too?’ I asked myself. I didn’t have an answer, yet.

I carried the surveys with me to work. At lunch I read them and read them again. Ideas came jumping at me as I read. My job was to give them what they wanted and needed to have their lives work.

Two wanted a place to sun. She wanted a west coast tan. I closed my eyes and pictured the building. Where? How? The answer: on the roof!

I checked into putting a deck on the building. Our firm worked with two different architects so I spoke with one of them. He said he needed to see the building to answer the questions I had. I called Inga and warned her I would be bringing someone home. As soon as the work day ended I met him at the apartments. Inga met us with iced tea and a kiss for both of us.

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