All That We See or Seem...

MICHAEL'S UNIVERSE

Jen was in a strange mood. For a start it was odd that this whole afternoon was her idea--taking time off work, dumping the kids at grandmas. This wasn't even their usual day for sex, "business time" they called it in their diaries: the first Sunday of every third month. Today was just some random Tuesday. It'd only been a week since their last maintenance fuck.

She ran them a bath, something they hadn't done together since their honeymoon, but then kept snapping her fingers at him. "I'm here? Hello?" as if he wasn't paying her attention. But he pays her attention all the time. Too much attention. He can't keep his hands off her, and if not his hands, he can't keep his eyes off her. And she looks especially sexy today where they sit bookending the bath. Her gym body is pert and lithe in the foamy water, her nipples ice-berging the surface, his legs between hers, and her black tuft neatly clipped between them--she doesn't believe in waxing. Her cheeks are crimson and her big, pale eyes glimmer impishly, but also deeply, like she's got a secret. And lord, she has the most fantastic mouth: wide with the kind of plump lips people spend a fortune trying to achieve. As plump as Pearl's. How often he's bitterly considered the irony of Jen's sensual mouth, wasted on someone who doesn't even enjoy kissing let alone the other things he'd like her to do with it. But she's still the love of his life. OK, he has an invisible friend too, strictly for fantasy play, but it's not an affair and he's totally committed to Jen. Loyal. He's a Leo for fuck sake. Pearl is just--

"Hello?" Click-click-click. "Here I am!"

He picks up her foot and rubs it soapily. She hums at first, then winces and flinches. He strokes her a little while longer, while she holds her leg up stiffly, then he lets her go.

He expects her to leap out of the bath then, like, "Job done," but she surprises him again, stroking his chest with that same foot. "Would you like a massage?" she purrs. Purrs. She hasn't purred since the day he asked her to marry him. And she's never massaged him. Actually even Pearl hasn't done that. He wonders if his dream girl might like to rub him all over. With her cunt preferably. She could start on his extremities, fingers maybe, then grind on his thighs and arms, spiral into his dick, slide herself wet along it, ride him to orgasm together... or finish on his mouth if she'd prefer, then--

Hot water splashes his face. "Fucksake Mike, stop drifting off. You want a back rub or not?"

#

She spreads him out on the bed and lights scented candles and they feel like pressure. His stomach sours. So much effort. She's trying to seduce him. Win him back. Has he done something to make her think she's lost him? Women are smart, and Jen is the smartest of the lot. She must sense his involvement with Pearl. His heart sinks.

Then his lovely wife sits astride his naked bum and strokes his rarely-touched back and he wells up. Her damp bush and labia brush his buttocks and she makes little grunts as she works. He's twice her size and her hands feel small on him, but powerful. She drops kisses before every rub.

"I love you," he says over his shoulder.

"Course you do. Goodness, you're still buff aren't you?" She wobbles his fleshy sides. "Some cardio'd soon fix those love handles. You should come to the gym sometime."

He pretends not to hear.

She takes her time, kissing and rubbing, kissing and rubbing so when she slaps his arse and tells him to turn over he's rigid and bouncing for what he hopes might come next. They watch his cock leap about excitedly. She runs her fingers along it.

"I know what you need," she whispers to his giddy monster, then turns a coy but smouldering glance up at him. "That bath made me dirtier."

He swallows hard. She bends down and kisses his cock and for all Pearl's uninhibited, mythic sucking, his wife's simple kiss nearly releases him there and then. She strokes him and kisses him again, her eyes locked to his. She licks him, still not breaking eye contact and even though it makes him gasp, his wife's huge tongue tenderly lapping him, that fixed gaze gives him a niggling sense she's read this in a New Scientist article and practised in front of a mirror. He knows she's not really enjoying it, but still doing it to please him, and this makes him want to burst into orgasm and tears at the same time. He strokes her cheek, whispering encouragement. She smiles and licks and kisses. "OK?" She says, and takes a popsicle suck. A lump rises in his throat.

She slinks up to his face, and plants her knees astride his head.

Fair enough. He prepares to kiss her clit, to build up gradually and make the rare moment last, but she pushes hard to his mouth. She's unusually wet. Has turning him on turned her on that much? He had no idea Jen felt that way. He's been neglecting her.

He should neglect her more often.

He slides his tongue into her slot, coats it in her savoury arousal and daubs her clit with it--a sensation so delicious it flutters his eyes shut. She catches a breath, wriggles.

He licks patiently, circling her clit wide because Jen always cums quickly on his tongue--to get it over with he assumes. But her breathing soon puffs up anyway so he gives in and just enjoys himself.

"Lucky girl!" The sudden voice in his ear flicks his eyes wide.

Pearl is standing beside the bed, fizzing at her edges. It seems she's dressed up for this afternoon, if you can call someone dressed when they're naked in a pair of white woollen thigh-socks. She poses this way and that, turns around, jiggles her bum.

"Mm-mm-mmmm," Michael says into Jen. His wife chuckles but can't see Pearl of course. Jen's curled over, opening her lips and straining to watch him lick.

"Jen is gorgeous," Pearl says. "Your wife's better looking than my hubby." She rests her head in her hands next to him as he eats his wife. "Enjoying that?"

Michael hums again. Jen groans. Pearl bursts a sigh. "Fuck, I want some."

She leaps onto the bed -- it doesn't dip but she doesn't fall through either so Michael's not sure how that works -- and stands astride his head. Her stockinged feet are lost somewhere inside Jen's knees, and bits of her merge into and out of his wife where she's kneeling. They look combined into some kind of fertility totem. Pearl squats and two wet mounds nudge and roll on his tongue. It feels like one cunt, flowing between different flowery forms, labia budding then petalling, clitorises coalescing and splitting. He chases flesh around his mouth, tongue doubly basted, juices spilling as he licks both women at once.

Pearl's enjoyed very little head in her life, so she's always greedy for her orgasm. She joggles at him, urging him faster, but as he flickers and flip-flaps Jen sits up off him every now and then, edging herself, making it last. On a break, she reaches behind her to clasp his cock, muttering, "Cum with me."

"Don't you want to fuck?" Michael's voice is muffled by conjoined vaginas.

"Yes please!" Pearl says.

"I want you to cum with me," Jen says. "This is too... ah!" She hops up onto one knee and one foot and for a moment all three of them watch her shining pussy pulse at the brink of orgasm. She laughs, blows long breaths, then returns to Michael's mouth.

"Fuck that's hot." Pearl grinds hard on him, gripping his hair. "This is all so fucking hot."

Jen, calmer, reaches back to Michael's cock and rubs him in time with her rocking on his face. Pearl synchronises too and they flood his mouth with marshmallowy flesh and salty arousal, filling his ears with a chorus of moans.

Jen's rubbing hand is as insistent as her cunt but he senses she's waiting for him to orgasm before she will. He tests this by swearing as if he's about to cum. Jen blusters, "Yes-yes-yes-yes!" and Pearl squeals. He sucks their clits into him and motormouths them both on a quicksilver tongue. They grunt and squawk, clawing at his hair, at their thighs and breasts. Cursing becomes cackling. Pearl tumbles off him, clutching her mound, curling foetal, laughing like a loon. Jen raises her hips from him, blows a strand of hair from her face and coolly breathes herself calm.

Pearl's face glows from the pillow beside him. "Out-fucking-standing," she croaks.

Jen stares down at him with a dreamy smile, stroking his slimy cheek with one hand, still tugging his cock with the other. "I love you, Mike."

Michael wells up. "I really love you, sweetheart."

Surprisingly, Jen wells up too.

So does Pearl, or so it seems from her sniffing. Michael can't tear his gaze from his angelic wife.

Jen looks over her shoulder, watching his cock slide in her hand. "You didn't cum?"

"Not yet. You want to fuck now?"

Jen sits back on his face. "I want this. I want you to cum with desire for my cunt and I want to cum with you." She wiggles. "Do me again."

Pearl laughs. "Fuck she likes your mouth even more than John likes mine. Why don't they let us do them more often?"

Michael buries the sad fact that these are rare moments with the gentle kisses he plants in his wife's flushed and soggy folds. With it he buries the unsettling sense that Jen sounds just like Pearl. Like she's competing. But how would she know how Pearl talks?

Pearl prowls on all-fours to watch Jen rub Michael's cock. It seems she can't resist getting involved as his cock and balls are dragged into a heaven of brisk strokes and swirling, wet warmth. Honey-trapped under his wife, he can't work out what Pearl's doing but it feels delicious. He growls, and his thighs tremor, and the sensation below suddenly clarifies, reduced to Jen's insistent pull and a single, primally familiar, hollow sleeving his tip.

Pearl sinks onto his cock with the sigh of someone getting into a hot bath.

"Fu-uck." Pearl slides slowly along Michael's length. "It's delicious having your wife wank you inside me." Then she goes quiet.

Michael licks Jen gently. His wife strokes his hair. "I'm sorry."

"Mm-hmm?"

"That I'm always uninterested. Life's just so... hard."

"It's only as hard as you make it." Pearl says, and does something with her hips, creating a compelling, rolling motion on him. The sensation, along with Jen's quick rub, has him involuntarily thrusting. This plunges a grunt from Pearl so he does it again, she curses.

Jen squirms on his face. "Yes, do it. Cum with me."

He gets a twisted sense that she's speaking to Pearl. So does Pearl it seems who goes rigid, splayed across his hips. He shoves up at her. In and out of Jen's fist. He sucks Jen's clit.

"Fuck yes." Pearl seizes like a thousand volts pass through her. Her cunt hugs his Jen-jerked cock. "YES!"

He grips his wife's bum in place and cries out into her cunt. Jen locks solid now, as does her fist. He pushes hard at it, moments from his own release. Pearl cackles out her climax as if on a bucking horse, then leaps off his cock to replace one wet hollow with another--an upgraded, agile version of lips and tongue. Jen erratically wanks him into Pearl and it's too wrong, too right.

Jen whimpers, arches and shakes and Michael explodes into the hot whirlpool of Pearl's sucking. Jen and he grip each other, tossed in the roiling surf of their orgasms, Pearl giggle-hums and locks vampirically to his writhing form.

Jen hisses a long sigh. She drops from Michael's face to his chest, spread thighs still quivering, eyelids drooped and cheeks so pink they look slapped.

He spasms aftershocks as Pearl self-absorbedly refuses to to stop sucking him, squeezing his cock and balls as if she might get more out. Jen flumps onto her back beside him. He leans in to kiss her but she wrinkles her nose and pulls away. "I'm good, thanks."

Pearl's face appears over him, sucking her lips, and curling a tongue out to get a cum splash from her chin. They kiss, swapping flavours while Jen stretches beside them, oblivious.

And they're oblivious too, so oblivious that they don't notice her move. Not until she slaps Michael's belly and they find her poised over his flagging cock with a Kleenex in her hand. "Did you fake your orgasm?"

"Of course not. It was massive."

"Ah. I beg to differ." She gestures to his cumless cock and belly.

"Whoops." Pearl flushes. "I didn't think that through."

Michael braces himself for an argument, but if Jen feels lied to or upset he can't tell. She bites her lip and contemplates his penis and he feels like one of the rats in her mazes at work. Then she nods and... is she biting back a grin?

"Excellent," she says.

JOHN AND JEN'S UNIVERSE

"Excellent," John says.

A wall of screens light John and Jen's faces in their dark dream lab. Tinny pants and murmured exclamations punctuate the silence. The screens show multiple viewpoints of their spouses naked on the floor of their so-called dream house. Pearl is endeavouring to massage Michael with her vulva, crouched at this particular moment on his bicep and rubbing on it while he flexes. She complains that she wants to cum already.

"It is excellent, isn't it?" Jen pats her partner's back.

John grins and pats her too. "So they've even learned how to appear in each other's universes?"

"Yes!" Jen's all but dancing. "So they can help us out during sex. As well as satisfying each other in their dreams, of course. So they won't bother us for it all the time."

John raises his palm to her. "So we can concentrate on our work."

She high-fives him. "And they've no idea that they're us. That Michael is you and Pearl is me, albeit from universes where Michael has the libido you don't and Pearl has all mine."

They hold hands, and squeeze each other excitedly.

John shakes his head like he's got a bee in it. "I can't believe it, we've proved that the multiverse, where anything and everything can happen, is also our collective unconscious."

"And given the unconscious is where we dream..."

"That all dreams are real. Somewhere."

"That means all fantasies too."

"Indeed." John strokes his chin, sagely. "And they have no clue do they? That our research brought us together first, and that we introduced them to each other?"

"Dogs have more clue about nuclear fission."

"Excellent." John recalls nights lying with his back to Pearl, pretending to be asleep while she snivelled and masturbated. The shame of his inadequacy. His vow to fix it. "You must be so relieved," he says. "I mean, to find a universe where I'm more like you and less like... that."

He nods at a screen where Michael is licking Pearl's juices off his bicep.

Jen grimaces. She recalls the tear on Michael's cheek while he fixed a plasterboard wall. A wall he put his fist through after she wriggled from an amorous hug. That was the day she decided to apply every cell of her brain to fixing their relationship. "Indeed. You must be relieved too, finding a version of your wife that's more brainy than... drippy."

They chortle. On the screens, Pearl hops over Michael's hips, shakes out legs wobbly from exertion, then guides herself onto his cock. Michael sits up so he can hold her, and slides her up and down on his thrusts. She gives over to him, knees at his shoulders, arms about his neck, muttering breathlessly, "Yes. Yes. Fuck me."

Jen pats the back of John's hand, still clasped to hers. "And our meetings have rather more profound outcomes than..."

"Orgasms, yes."

Pearl shudders and cries out. Michael laughs, and digs deep and slow. She grinds out her climax, then pushes him back, flustered, almost aggressive, and leaps from his cock to his mouth.

Jen and John sigh in unison. "Funny, that." John says. "How often they use fucking as foreplay, and oral as the main event. It's all back to front."

Jen gasps. "John, you are a genius and my ideal husband, or one half of him anyway, and I love you intellectually, but really, please do me a favour and look up the word clitoris."

John smacks her bottom. "In your dreams, partner."

Jen pretends to retch. "When I said do me a favour I meant the multiversal me. Me and Pearl. She's my sex-needy half and you married her and she needs you to learn. Show her some respect. Ditch the penetrative, patriarchal porno attitude."

"OK OK." John shoulder-shoves her. "And while we're at it, the needy half of multiversal me would appreciate a swallow now and then."

Jen curls her lip. "Not gonna happen, blowjobs are Pearl's job."

John contemplates Pearl, the woman he married, writhing on Michael's mouth. John's sexual doppelganger is enraptured, holding Pearl's bottom to his face, slurping her slimy slot. And Pearl's enraptured at the sensation, her chest heaving, jaw thrust. Michael lays Pearl on her back and continues feeding without losing a beat, moaning like she's the world's tastiest ice-cream. Hideous. Yet his wife's so happy it warms his heart. John's grateful he found his libido eventually--even if he had to cross the multiverse to find it. Everyone should be so lucky. They needed to tell the world, the universe, all the universes. No-one will ever have to suffer, or compromise, a mismatched sexual relationship ever again. Everyone deserves everything.

Pearl flips Michael on his back and dives onto him in a sixty-nine. The over-sexed couple tumble into a feeding frenzy that almost immediately trips them both into orgasm. Jen contemplates the messy joy with which Pearl devours her husband, feeling revolted and excited at the same time. Excited for the unbridled joy in Michael's face, eating and being eaten. Jen takes as much pride in that as if she was sucking him herself, which she kind of is, tangentially. She's finally satisfying Michael, even though she's had to use her head in a different way: colliding universes to please him. The most complicated blowjob ever devised.

"They're so sweet together aren't they?" Jen murmurs as their spouses twitch and grunt at each other's mouths.

"Hmm." John's thumb strokes the back of her hand. "It must be such bliss being..."

"Dumb?"

"Dumber than us anyway." He lets go of her.

"Do you ever feel... jealous?"

John scoffs, rubs a muscle he pulled in the gym earlier.

"Me neither." Jen twirls a strand of her new pixie cut.