Dual Quads and Gizmo Sex

Bob smiled gently to himself, stood to lean far forward across the table. All eyes followed his motion: the upper five buttons of Jeannie's shirtwaist were mis-buttoned. Once you noticed it, the lopsidedness was blatant. Jerry abruptly went beet-root from hairline to tee-shirt, looked at Gisela, who met his gaze with a grin and a tiny smile. Bob muttered in an even poorer imitation of Jerry's awful accent, "Cawn't 'ave such sloppiness, especially since it'll be attributed to Yours Truly. Thought for bloody sure I had this right before we left the house."

At that, Jeannie went brilliant scarlet, a match for Jerry, as her husband undid and redid until buttons and holes matched properly. Bob settled back down in his seat: glances and avoidances flew thick and fast for several seconds, until suddenly Jeannie took a deep breath and guffawed through her embarrassment, to sputter "God! Look at us! We all -- every damn one of us! -- are bright red in the face. We look like kids caught raiding the cookie jar! Or maybe, caught peeking in at Mom and Dad doing the dirty? Perhaps we should try a good dose of adulthood? Spade-is-a-spade time, folks."

"My idea so I'll go first. Jerry and I had a VERY nice time on our little jaunt. Very, very, very. And we hope you two did also."

At that, Gisela flushed too, and it was clearly a guilty, embarrassed flush, not anger. Jeannie pounced.

"Oho! Want to play poker, Gisela? So -- turn about, eh? How NICE for us ALL, don't you think? Can't trust a bunch of us adults, especially cripples, out of one another's sight for twenty minutes, can we? And in PUBLIC, yet! That could be either really bad, or really nice, depending. What happened, anyhow? More precisely, who did what and with which and to whom, and with what results? Secrets are going to kill us, kill our relationship, don't you think? Who's got the guts to start 'fessing up?"

Silence reigned again - until Gisela seized the initiative: "Well, since you ask so BLUNTLY..." She paused, bit her lip, looked at Jerry for some sort of permission or absolution, found it, and continued "Bob and I had a wonderful walk and talk, we saw an eagle on its nest. And we sort of pulled off the main road and necked a bit. And he --er- well, actually to be blunt, he made me come. Orgasm. Hard. But he was a total gentlemen -- he wasn't pushy, he gave me lots of chances to say NO, and he didn't even ask for reciprocity. Although god knows I offered it! He refused to be in a hurry for himself. So THERE! Who's next?"

She burst into a sudden short fit of real laughter: "This is a bit like the Canterbury Tales, don't you think?"

Jerry started up next, all sheepish grin and hang-dog expression: "Same thing with us, I guess. Watched a couple of swans and sailboats, did a bit of necking, and helped Jeannie through to what seemed to me like a very nice climax. That's the gist of it." Then, with a shrug, "Sorry about the buttons. Wasn't really looking at them or concentrating on them at that particular moment. Had some major distractions just then."

Jeannie giggled again, loudly. The others looked at her. "Don't you see what's just happened? Jeez, folks! The four of us go on our first expedition, our first real outing together, and BINGO. Both of the WOMEN -- quad women -- essentially get laid! At least, we both get treated to orgasms. By pretty-much strangers... attractive, studly guys for sure, but unknowns for all practical purposes. And apparently NEITHER of the men involved gets anything overtly physical in return."

She looked at the two men, grinned again and said "MY personal escort in fact played Noble White Knight and turned down my offers of orgasmic reciprocity... now THERE'S a term for the ages!" She continued: "...so, I presume, did Bob, n'cest pas?"

Bob nodded, still noticeably red-faced, and muttered "True... but I'm beginning to reconsider the benefits of such attempts to behave nobly!"

Jeannie laughed delightedly, and the others joined in. Eventually she went on: "It's absolutely crazy, this whole situation -- topsy turvy in the best possible way. Can't you all SEE that if we just didn't take ourselves and the outside world's morality so seriously, this would be an absolutely exquisitely fine event we could talk about and enjoy and reminisce over for years to come? In a way, it's both profound and simply hilarious! It's like a scene from some bodice-ripping pot-boiler come to life just for us to participate in! Can't you all SEE that?"

The embarrassed, understanding looks that went back and forth settled things: in moments the entire group was howling, and Bob was pouring the last of the wine. Jeannie stopped snickering long enough to observe "If neither man came, well then, the world is out of balance. Parity is NOT conserved. Two left feet. All those things."

After an almost painfully prolonged silence it was Jeannie who spoke first -- firmly and loudly, to the group. She surprised everyone, self included. "Dammit, CHILDREN, I've decided that I, at least, am thoroughly tired of playing dance 'round the mulberry bush. You two men, you Walkers, take a short hike, please, so that Gisela and I can have a private talk. Go down there by the water and talk about carburetors or football or something else male-bondish. We'll call for you when you're needed! GO!"

The men looked even more startled than Gisela at this outburst, and at once silently departed, in step. At water's edge, fifty yards from the table, they stopped, looked at one another again and shrugged. Bob picked up a handful of flat pebbles, said "Wonder what they're talking about. Of course, we may never find out at all. Take you on at skipping rocks?"

They looked back at the women, who were face to face, wheels touching.

"Some confab over there!" said Jerry. Jerry was the more coordinated and had longer arms, so he was winning when they got a sharp whistle from the direction of the table. Bob grinned -- "That's my lady's "Bob, come here, NOW!" signal. I'm a well-trained dog in some respects. Let's go."

The two women wore almost identical expressions of vague amusement, as if they now shared some quite intimate and mysterious secret. As the men sat down across the table, the women studied them, then eyed one another with a "You go first, no YOU go first!" air. Gisela finally started.

"OKAY, guys. We just had a very interesting discussion and analysis of this silly situation. We told each other everything about today's adventures, so nobody's allowed to be embarrassed or to worry about having to keep secrets. OKAY?"

Nods all around.

She continued: "Now, I want to ask a question that each of us can answer out loud, and that means me, too. But LISTEN to the question and answer the actual question, and nothing else. This is partly an intelligence test to see if you can follow instructions. Answer the question, and nothing more than the minimal question. Ready?" Again, nods all around. The men glanced at one another briefly, but it clarified nothing.

"So..." said Gisela, taking a long deep breath as if to prepare herself: "...it seems as if we two couples have arrived at the same sort of internal rules about sexual needs and adventures. I'm going to paraphrase... everyone has the right to be satisfied by, and the duty to satisfy, their partner. Which has made for pretty good sex all around, despite our quad-ness. So far so good? Nods are okay."

She nodded first, got three others. She continued. "The other part is that we all seem to have given our spouses the freedom, express or implied but nonetheless given, to play around -- sexually at least, although preferably not with deeper emotional connectivity -- all under the "Don't ask, don't volunteer" rule. Right? Nods are still okay."

Three nods again.

"Now comes the intelligence-test question. Does any one of us KNOW that our partner has gone adventuring? Emphasis on the word KNOW, please. Not mere suspicion. Think before you answer."

She waited, then looked at Jeannie, who said simply "Nope." Both men shook their heads and agreed: nope -- to which Gisela added her own.

"Then as far as what each of us actually KNOWS, what happened this afternoon was a first-time thing for each and every one of us! All four, a dead-even four-way tie at zero -- or now, one each. For us women, anyhow! One hundred percent virgins we all seem to be, at this sort of game. Four hundred percentage points of some sort of virtual virginity -- and at our ages! Amazing, no? AND -- it means an even start, level field and all that game-talk. That has to be more than simple coincidence. There's something special going on here."

"So we ladies suggest that the four of us acknowledge it and maybe undertake to explore it, extent of exploration TBD - at least a little bit, but maybe a whole hell of a lot. Frankly, you guys are both damn good looking and we know that if you want to go gallivanting, you'll have no problem whatever finding partners. But WE, my dears, are not in that boat at all. Potential gallivanting partners and opportunities are pretty few and far between for us quads... and we each seem to have found one all of a sudden."

She stopped, looked pointedly and individually at each of the others. "It's a pretty cosmic convergence, and it may very well never happen again in either of us girls' lifetimes. So -- what we propose is that we all stroll back now and go as spouse-couples on the drive back to HAL - where eventually we will concentrate on dinner. Eventually. Emphasis on 'eventually', please! Who can say that no attractive delaying actions might come up?"

A huge grin lit up her face as she finished up: "But before dinner, we girls propose to even up the score -- as a first step. After all, you guys both insisted on playing Gentleman Jim to our horniness and pushiness, without reward, which was genuinely romantic and selfless and noble. And SILLY, too! Especially if it left you each with a case of Blue-Balls. Then, when we've accomplished all that and gotten through dinner, we propose that we all try again. Just to be certain. One essence of science being replication of the experiment, no? All okay?"

The men stared at the women, then at one another, speechless.

Finally Jeannie said "Hey! Guys, you have no idea what you may have unleashed. We all know that any healthy woman can fuck to death any half-dozen healthy males, enjoy every minute of it, and not wind up breathing hard as she steps over the bodies on her way out. We strongly suspect that the same is true here, our quad-ness notwithstanding. And we intend to find out. Crank your jaws back up into their proper places. Why the hell shouldn't we be JUST as horny as the two of you with your cockamamie Y-chromosomal and testosterone poisoning problems? Even if you can actually WALK on your own, still? Shall we go now?"

Back at the parking lot, things were in mild chaos as three school-busses discharged their hordes of first and second-graders for an afternoon outing. The kids were busily sorting themselves (slowly!) into groups, finding backpacks and lunches. The teachers looked more than a little harried. The crowd blocked access to the vans, so the ladies and their escorts stopped to watch.

Jeannie devoured the kids with her eyes, then turned to Gisela and said "Dammit, I really have always wanted kids. Damn damn damn! Bob and I both wanted a family pretty badly, and it just isn't going to happen in this life. Hope there's another go-around. I should become a Hindu, maybe?" Wistfully, still watching the kids, "Pretty little things, aren't they. Drat my DNA anyhow. You are so LUCKY and gutsy, Gisela, to be able to get pregnant!"

Bob looked startled -- he obviously hadn't tumbled yet to the "delicate condition" of his new kissing-and-fondling partner. Jeannie said "I spotted it earlier, Bob. They must want kids as badly as we do, to put out this much effort. It's going to be a hell of a lot of work for them, raising two kids -- she's carrying twins! - but it's undoubtedly going to be worth it."

They took another long look at the now semi-regimented student group: around the corner of the nearest bus appeared one final child, a girl in a wheelchair. Her teacher looked over at Gisela and Jeannie: her body language expressed surprise, then interest. She spoke briefly to the girl, then trotted over and introduced herself with a question -- could her student, Helen, come over and meet the women? The kid could use some role-modeling, and it would be good for her to meet with them personally, to understand that these two women had been spending an afternoon in the park despite their being in wheelchairs. If they wouldn't mind.

Jerry spoke for the foursome and invited over not only the wheelchair girl but the entire class, so they could ask questions if they wished -- it was the sort of educational mini-effort they did as often as chance allowed.

The kids trotted over, loaded with curiosity and questions. Helen's classmates were remarkably thoughtful and very good about accommodating her, moved aside automatically to let her drive up under her own arm-power.

Conditions were compared: Helen was a thalidomide kid from the mid-thighs down -- below that, her legs hadn't developed but nothing else seemed wrong. In fact, she was quite pretty in that indefinably, dangerously sexy way particular to girls on the leading edge of puberty. Although only about age thirteen, she was pronouncedly muscular through the shoulders, very swimmer-like.

She made it immediately clear that she was absolutely determined to break free of her handicap, working hard to learn to walk with prostheses. She worked out every day with weights, because she needed the upper-body strength for maneuvering the chair. One of the larger, older boys in the group said, proudly, that he helped her with the weights, and that she could, if properly strapped into her chair, arm-wrestle into submission anyone in her class, all the boys included.

Her weight-lifting program made an instant connection between her and Bob, and off they went into their own conversation.

Meanwhile, the kids had scads of questions about quad-equipment, and lots of "How do you manage X, and Y, and Z?" curiosity. When the women announced that they were both university professors, the kids were even more impressed. Helen broke from her gym-talk to ask "Isn't there ANYTHING you can't do?"

Gisela looked around -- the teacher was almost hyperventilating at the opportunity, but stayed silent. The kids were collectively silent, waiting.

"Sure. There are lots and lots of things I can't do. Complicated stuff mostly - can't tie my shoes or button a shirt, which is a real pain in the butt sometimes, or brush my teeth very well. But I have helpers and friends for those things. These two men are our husbands, and they can do things like that for us. Buttons and such, I mean. They usually get it right, too -- not always, but usually."

The teacher was puzzled at the long glance between Gisela and Jeannie, and the slight pinking of their faces.

"You girl-students know how men and boys are, don't you?"

The two men then flushed, the teacher noted it and wondered silently what it was all about, and the girl students chorused "YES! We do know how they are!"

"See that curb over there?" Gisela tilted her head, the kids looked, turned back to her. "No way Jose can I get this chair over that curb. Can't go swimming either, at least we haven't figured out how yet, but maybe someday. Right now, with some care I can sit in a hot-tub. I've made a parachute jump, too. Strapped tight to the handsomest jump-master I could find."

The whole class giggled.

"Both of us wheel-chair ladies got to be professors...brains still working okay, I believe. And I'm going to be a mother pretty soon. The things I can't do sure can be inconvenient -- but an awful lot of them really aren't very important, are they?"

The kids got it immediately, and all shook their heads silently.

Then Gisela turned to Helen and said to the whole class, "I want you ALL to remember that, but you, Helen -- I especially want you to remember it. Jerry -- give Helen one of my business cards, would you? We need to stay in touch." Then to Helen, "You call me, okay? SOON! We'll get together somewhere and have lunch and talk. It'll be fun!" Helen managed to nod agreement, her face burning from the special attention, her expression showing her pleasure.

The teacher thanked them, and the troop hollered its goodbyes and thank-yous, disappeared slowly, straggling down the path.

During the ride back to The Monster Bob asked Jeannie quietly "So you like Mister Jerry, do you? Enough to pursue him a little bit?" She met his eye, nodded and replied "Yep. He's very attractive and attentive and compatible. Just the way you and Gisela seem to be. No jealousy intended, lover, that's just an observation all four of us could make -- and it runs in all directions. I suppose it's probably just a little bit too bad that you men don't seem to have any gayness in your makeups. That would make the whole scene positively eerie. Bob... is all this really okay with you? I'm not in need of another emotional entanglement, you are completely satisfying to me that way, always have been. But the prospect of something NEW, completely outside the usual little universe we orbit in, is, well, unexpected and awfully appealing. But only if it's mutual and really truly okay with you. I can certainly do without if you wish!"

Bob pulled to a stop at a light, leaned over to kiss her briefly but hard and said "I would say exactly the same thing, and I feel the same way. Something new would be nice, but I certainly don't need it if it's likely to interfere with thee and me... will it?"

Jeannie did a face-shrug and said "I don't think so. But the experiment hasn't been done yet." Then with a deep breath, "I'd like to try. If you would, and I cannot imagine that you wouldn't, given how you're reacting to Gisela. For me and Gisela, this may never happen again and we both know it. Carpe Diem seems to be a common theme for us all, doesn't it?"

In the other van, a remarkable similar conversation played out.

They all four arrived at The Monster together. Inside, they paused in the living room: the women looked at one another and seemed to exchange secret data telepathically.

Gisela started: "Big-folks-talk time again, I think. Unless there's a serious reservation on someone's part -- and that means speak now or forever hold your peace! -- why don't Jeannie and Jerry go for a more extended tour? After all, Jeannie hasn't yet seen the other half of the house, the north end. It's mostly another quad-equipped bedroom, but regardless, she needs to finish up her tour. Meanwhile, Bob and I will go down to the Playroom -- it's quite possible that Jeannie didn't give him a complete introduction to the facilities."

She ended with "And there's no bloody hurry, is there? Dinner can be whenever we wish, but let's say at a minimum we reassemble on the deck at, say, sixish? Three hours can be a long time. Or short, depending."

Jerry wheeled Jeannie down the northern end of the main hall, past the other bathroom and into a second large bedroom, equipped just as the master bedroom she'd seen yesterday -- tallish king bed, rigs for handling wheelchairs, mirrors.

As they entered Jerry said "HAL, lights three, close and lock the door. And, HAL, goodbye for now."

He parked Jeannie beside the bed, squatted down beside her, embraced her into a long and quite delicious kiss. He was fully ready, but paused for a final check, one last offering of the escape hatch. "You're sure? No repercussions?"

She nodded her certainty -- she was committed, eager, and happy about it. She could feel her nipples and entire breasts hardening, her deep belly going liquid again, much more intensely than out on the trail. A year ago as a major birthday present Bob had given her that tandem parachute jump with an instructor, from 8,000 feet -- they called it a Quad Special. The sensations right now were very much like standing at the door of the airplane, being asked one last time about her commitment. It was delightful and scary both.