Boundless Possibilities

Boundless Possibilities

I have this problem. Well, maybe not exactly a problem, more a trait, or an ability.

I see possibilities, or alternate realities. Or maybe I'm experiencing parallel universes. Whatever.

As I go through life, it seems I sort of lead multiple lives. It's hard for me to explain and impossible for most people I reveal it to, to accept.

For example, I'm married to my wonderful husband Jake and we have two beautiful daughters. Yet, I have vague memories of being a single career oriented woman who owns a lucrative real estate agency. And then, there are my memories of being a struggling single mom of two (different) children and I can barely make ends meet. And then there's my slut memories: remembering sleeping around with any beautiful woman I happen to meet, and my memories of being a high priced escort and jetting around the world with anyone who could afford me. These are just a few of the many different lifelines I can remember, even though the memories tend to be a bit fuzzy at times.

It's not easy being me. I've often wondered why I haven't been committed to an institution. But, I just accept my fate(s) and move on, albeit, oftentimes confused.

I mean, just last week (at least I think it was last week) I was out shopping and I decided to take a break and get a coffee at the bookstore. You know, one of those coffee shops in the corner of the big national chain bookstores. It was pretty crowded, jam packed in fact; filled with holiday shoppers looking for last minute gifts.

I ordered and collected my lattė, then I got lucky and found a table in the corner just as a young couple was leaving. It was the only available table in the shop. So, I sat and started reading the book I'd just purchased while sipping my lattė.

It wasn't long before I was approached by a gorgeous young woman who looked to be about twenty or twenty-five, wearing a low cut top with lots of cleavage on display.

"Do you mind if I join you? There doesn't seem to be any empty tables," she said to me as she approached.

"Sure, no problem, have a seat," I told her. "I'm Joan." And I extended my hand.

She placed her coffee on the table and a shopping bag on the floor next to her chair, then she took my hand and gave me a handshake as she sat down opposite me.

"I'm Erica, pleased to meet you," she said, still holding my hand until it almost became awkward. As she let go, my brain was suddenly flooded with new memories of "us".

In my new memories, I recalled we'd met over six months ago ... I was single in that reality ... we'd become lovers ... we had talked of moving in together ... I could visualize her naked, since I had seen her thus many times when we made love. All this and more was instantly burned into my memory as she let go of my hand. I was sort of used to this kind of thing happening to me from time to time, so I didn't let on that anything 'unusual' had happened - actually, bizarre is a better word for it.

"Nice meeting you too, Erica. You come here often, don't you?" I said, more a statement than a question.

"Oh, how'd you know?"

You wouldn't believe me if I told you, I thought to myself. Then my brain conjured up memories of our lips meeting, our tongues swirling around in each other's mouths while I held her warm naked body in my arms.

"You look familiar, I think I've seen you here before," I lied. "I come here often."

As I sat there and looked into Erica's beautiful blue eyes, I wondered if we would become lovers again; but even if we did, this would be an entirely different thread of my existence. Time would tell.

"What are you writing?" Erica asked, no doubt just making polite conversation.

This question unnerved me quite a bit (which happens to me a lot) because I sort of remembered sitting down to read a book I'd just bought, but now, in my newly altered reality (thanks to touching Erica) I was sitting with a laptop in front of me - a partially written story on the screen.

"Erotic stories, I'm a author," I told her.

"Oh my, you mean sex stories?"

"Exactly," I responded.

"Oh that's so hot. Don't you, like, get aroused writing them here, I mean, in public like this?"

"Yes, I do ... my panties are rather moist right now, in fact," I rather bluntly told her.

But, what I didn't tell her was that my extreme arousal was more from remembering lying between her soft naked thighs whilst on her bed with my face buried in her beautiful wet cunt. My lips sucking her swollen clit into my mouth and my tongue flicking rapidly over the tip of her turgid button and bringing her to a glorious orgasm - that's what I was writing about.

"Oh my god, really?"

"Yep. Here, see for yourself," I said as I pushed my laptop in front of her.

She read for a few minutes as my mind returned to the memory of her mind blowing orgasm that I recalled. Of how I held onto her thrashing body while I relentlessly tormented her swollen clit with my mouth and rammed three fingers over and over into her wanton cunt. I remembered her screams of bliss which aroused me even more and I knew my panties were getting soaked as I squirmed just a little in my chair.

"Holy fuck," Erica whispered. "That is so awesome! So hot! And the girl in your story seems so familiar, almost like it was me. And the other girl ... is that you?"

"Yes, I put myself in a lot of my stories. Even though I'm married with two kids, I also like girls too, I guess that makes me bi ... how about you?"

"I can't believe I'm telling a total stranger, but yes, I'm bi too, though I prefer girls," she said in a low voice.

"Is my story making you moist?" I asked. As I spoke, I saw, in my mind, her pussy soaked in her own juices, my tongue licking out as much as I could get and swallowing her sweet nectar.

"Absolutely." She admitted.

"So you really like naughty stories ..." I said. "Would you like to hear a very naughty story? About me..."

"Oh really? Yes I would." She said with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I doubt you will believe my story even though it's absolutely true. I have memories of meeting you over six months ago in this same coffee shop. We became lovers and have seen each other several times a week for sex," I told her.

"Oh my god, but that's impossible," she said, sounding baffled.

"Before our encounter today, I had no recollection of our past together, but when you shook my hand, I suddenly had clear memories of us being lovers for months," I explained.

"You're right, I don't believe you," she said. "Maybe I should leave." She started collecting her things, as if to get up and go.

"I've seen you naked dozens of times ... in my memory, that is. You have a mole on your left breast near your nipple, another just below your navel, and two close together like a snake bite, just to the left of your vagina near your clit," I said.

"Oh my fucking god!" Erica exclaimed. A few heads at neighboring tables turned our way.

"Shhh ... not so loud," I cautioned.

"How could you know that? I've never even seen you before," she whispered, befuddled and settling back into her chair.

"I have no idea how or why this happens to me, but you're not the first person this has happened with," I told Erica. "It's most often with women I meet, though a couple times it's been men. And the memories that suddenly fill my head always involve sex. That is, recalling having sex with people I've never seen before ... until I shake hands with them, then I remember all the torrid details." I explained.

"Everyone you shake hands with?"

"No, just certain people. There's no rhyme or reason to it that I can figure out. And it's not always a hand shake, sometimes just touching. Once on a bus, a girl brushed my arm and I remembered her fucking me with a strap on dildo. I had the most amazing orgasm with Jennifer, that was her name," I told Erica.

"Oh my fucking god," Erica whispered. "What do you remember about me ... you said in 'torrid detail', right?"

"Yes, that's true. What I remember most vividly is you sucking my clit into your mouth. Then you pulled and tugged it as your tongue flicked over it really fast. And I recall feeling your fingers inside me, curled up and rubbing my g-spot giving me a mind bending orgasm. In fact, new memories like these are often where my stories come from that I write. The girl in the story you were just reading is, indeed, you."

Erica just sat across from me staring, incredulous.

"I'm so turned on right now," Erica said. "My brain is resisting believing you, except that you know where all the moles on my body are located. How do I reconcile that?"

"I told you, most people can't accept it," I said.

"But even so, I still want you right now. I want to experience your body as you say you've experienced mine.

With those words, I agreed to go with her to her apartment. It was a modest one bedroom close to downtown. We entered and started tearing each other's clothes off as soon as the door thumped closed. Our lips locked together and our tongues danced in each other's mouths. We left a trail of clothes marking the way to Erica's bedroom.

Erica pushed me down atop her queen bed and immediately buried her face in my wet cunt. Her tongue wasted no time in finding my engorged clit and sending hot electric flashes surging through my body. I moaned and squirmed underneath her as I felt a wave of bliss overcome me. I screamed. I cum very easily and usually multiple times during love making.

I put my hands on her head, grabbing handfuls of her hair, and I pulled her to my wanton cunt. I ground my slippery wet pussy on her face. Her cheeks glistened with my juices. And still I squirmed in delight as wave after wave pleasure made me crazed with lust.

"Now I want to taste your sweet cunt again, baby," I said as I twisted around into a sixty-nine position. My pussy grinding on her face as my tongue split her wet pink lips and I relished her sweet tasting ambrosia. I inserted my fingers in her vagina. She was so wet. White cream oozed from her slit and I lapped up every drop.

Simultaneously, Erica's tongue thrashed my clit again, and another wave of ecstasy crashed over me. My second orgasm was even stronger than the first.

As my mind returned to the land of normal mortals, my phone started buzzing, it was on vibrate. I leaned over the edge of the bed and grabbed it out of my purse. The screen showed the call was from Lilly. A name I didn't recognize.

"Hello?"

"Hey wifey, where've you been? I've been trying to call you all morning. Have you been whoring around again?" A woman's voice said.

"Lilly?" I said, not quite sure what had happened to my husband and children. But as I spoke, memories of them rapidly faded, thanks, no doubt, to the handshake with Erica earlier in the book shop. It wasn't the first time my reality had been turned upside down. Tears formed in my eyes as the love for my children fled from my memory along with any real recollection of them - only a faint impression of them, and a husband, remained.

"You know I really don't care if you're fucking another girl, as long as you come home to me. Unless you want to bring her home, too, for a three-way. That could be fun ... what's her name?" Lilly said.

"Erica," I answered, still feeling a bit bewildered. Erica looked at me quizzically.

"It's my wife, she wants to know who I'm with and if you'd like to join us for a three-way later," I said.

"Wife? I thought you had a husband and kids," Erica said, sounding confused. Join the club, I thought to myself.

"I think I did have a family until you shook my hand, then my reality changed ... it happens to me all the time," I told her. "Do you want to come home with me and meet Lilly? You can spend the night with us."

"Sure, if she eats pussy half as well as you," Erica said with a giggle.

As we dressed, Erica called for a cab which was there by the time we made it to the front of her building.

We climbed in and gave the driver my address. He had an accent, but then, don't all taxi drivers have accents? After I gave him my address, he pulled out into traffic. In ten minutes we were in front of my building and I handed the guy a twenty. I was about to say keep the change when his fingers brushed mine as he took the bill.

Everything changed for, what, the third time that day? I was having a hard time keeping track. The driver's name was Vlad, I knew instantly. I remembered his wife fucking me in a three way the night before. Her name was Petra, and I didn't think we were in the U.S. anymore. Erica wasn't in the taxi anymore either. People often disappear from my life like this, and I sometimes wonder if their lives somehow continue, or do they just no longer exist?

"Girl, take your rifle," he said as he reached over to the front passenger seat and picked up an AK47 and handed it to me.

I made sure there was a round in the chamber, then flicked off the safety. You never knew when a Russian might pop out of a ruined building and it would be all over for you in an instant.

I ran toward a partially bombed out building to join my resistence cell in the basement. I felt confused, displaced. It seemed like just yesterday I'd been somewhere else, in another world. A book shop? Sipping coffee? I felt like I was having an out of body experience while still in my body.

I heard a boom in the distance. They were shelling the city again. Then another explosion, louder, much closer. I ducked behind a wall of sandbags that had been erected near the building's entrance. I heard debris raining down all around me. That had been a close one.

In a crouch, I ran into the once lovely lobby of the apartment building and headed for the stairs to the basement. No elevators now, no electricity to run them.

I slung the AK over my shoulder and took a flashlight out of my coat pocket. No lights either with the power out. I found my comrades huddled around a table with a large map; a lantern illuminating the room. The commander was briefing the cell on our assignment for the night's counter attack.

"You're late comrade," the commander told me tersely. "Don't let it happen again."

"Yes SIR," I responded. He continued the briefing.

When he finished, he advised us all to get some rest, sleep if we could. It was going to be a long night. Some, he had pointed out, might not be with us in the morning.

"Oh Joan, I'm so scared," a girl I hardly knew said as she threw her arms around my neck and gave me a huge hug, then she was kissing my cheeks in the way Europeans do.

Suddenly, she kissed my mouth. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the brief moment of passion, thinking it might be our last, given the raid we'd be going on soon. I remembered making love with her the night before. In Paris? Though how we ended here, I had no idea. Strange things like that happen to me all the time.

When I opened my eyes, they were stabbed by bright lights. A woman (not the same girl from the basement) was still kissing me passionately, but the basement was gone. Instead, we stood next to a king size bed in a lavish room. In a hotel room, an expensive hotel room. A bottle of champagne on ice next to the bed. We were both naked.

"Joan, come to bed. I need you. I'm so horny right now I feel like I'm going to explode." Funny choice of words, I thought, given I was just surrounded by explosions. Wasn't I?

The woman pulled me onto the bed and began lavishing kisses all over my body. I felt myself responding, getting wet for her, even though I didn't really feel like I knew her that well. But over the years, I'd come to learn to just go with the flow.

As her tongue licked up my wet slit, I had a brief mental image of someone else doing the same thing, it seemed like just yesterday. Or was it this morning? What was that other girl's name? Erin? No, that's my daughter's name. But, I don't have children.

Do I?