The Six

It was after about a couple of hours that Hart, our almost-a-lawyer, tapped her glass for quiet and spoke up with her special "listen to me" tone. She was almost always the spokesperson if they wanted to approach me with a unified voice.

"Albert, please be very clear that I am speaking for all of us together, with no exceptions, caveats or opt-outs." Pause. This was going to be serious -- for very nearly all my life I had been just Al, except for job applications and when my mom was angry with me.

"It just cannot get any better than this." Pause. "We are not naive, as you very well know, and therefore very early on we combined our efforts and did a respectable chunk of research all around the place to be sure about you, the University, the rowing club and what we were getting into -- or, I should say, what we had already got ourselves into. We had known a bit about your personal background already, but after finding out more we decided that after all you had been through there must be a good and wise person in there, and we were happy enough to put ourselves in your hands.

"You have repaid our trust many times over; you have always treated us with respect and as equals, you have had complete faith in us all the time, you have never played favourites, you have never, ever taken any advantage, gone behind our backs or let us down in any way, and we hope very much that in some small way we have enriched your life in return." Hart was mentally the toughest of the five, but she had to pause and re-group for a moment.

"We spent some time in the last three weeks wondering how to show you how very, very grateful we are. We might be able to afford a Rolex or something like that, but you could probably get yourself a dozen tomorrow just using your walking-about money. So our presentation is in 5 parts. "

Victoria, sitting next to me, passed over a small brightly-wrapped package, and I opened it with what I hope was some decorum (I love opening presents!). Inside was what I guess I should call a badge, in the form of a hexagon, perhaps an inch and a half across, made of what I guessed was the tough, dense - and slightly expensive -- greyish metal tungsten. This was attractive but quite low-key, and I guessed that it was symbolic of something.

Hart resumed "The design is very simple but also very specific. It marks -- for lack of any better expression -- how grossly unfair our win was; there were six people in the boat, not four." She paused, and in a synchronised movement all five of them pulled down the left shoulder of whatever they were wearing, to show that they had each acquired a tattoo of the same design, size and colour. "And these form, as it were, our gift and our unbreakable link to you and to each other. We don't think you have a needle phobia, so if you wish to get one of these also there is nobody else entitled and it will be our treat. Isis at the tattoo place in Ewen has the stencil."

She drew a deep breath and went on. "The other four parts for you are ourselves. Each of us, for a night, with nothing -- nothing at all - refused or out of bounds. Let me make it completely clear; each of us under your complete control, each with the sole aim of giving you the night of your life. I know that put like that it would be a scary idea with 99% of men, but as an extra gift -- if you wish -- it is a demonstration of how much we trust you to deal with us with the love, respect and good humour that we have seen over the last two years. I do need to add that the Twins come as a package, so that's four not five nights.

"Naturally, we are offering this with all our hearts, but it equally needs you to accept it willingly. For good measure, let me add that we have each become very aware and very proud of our own and the others' bodies, and have -- yes -- stared at and complimented each other in the showers quite a few times. That vile English newspaper website was definitely not flattering us when it named us Most Attractive Team at the Games, and even if you just sit and look at us naked for four times twelve hours you will not be disappointed. We beg you to accept".

To say I was taken utterly by surprise would be a huge understatement. I started to reply three or four times, but stopped each time after just a word or two. Finally, after maybe a minute, I could string together a sentence.

"I have admired and respected you all for a long time, and more recently -- especially in the last few months -- yes, it has become love. Quite apart from your almost unbelievable achievement, from the worst depths of sadness over the last two years, in so very many ways you have raised me up as far as man can possibly go. Whatever happens to us from now on, I shall always be grateful. Sorry -- I just do not have the right words." I had to stop for a minute as I was tearing up a bit, and they kindly stayed silent. "I will be very happy to accept your remarkable offer, but I need to be completely clear about some things first. So, Marlow Rules."

This was a convention that I had got them to adopt, and called for complete honesty and frankness in the interests of improving performance. It had not been invoked very often, as they were relaxed at the idea of being completely open with me and each other, although the two occasions I had used it had been to do with two of them staying out late (did we need a curfew or not?) and some imagined slacking in the boat by Hart and Victoria which eventually turned out to be the result of some badly-adjusted bolts. I knew that in their own private meetings they had used it a few times, but I had never needed to know why.

"Marlow Rules then. I ask each of you, individually, to confirm to me that you are completely happy with this idea." I looked at each of them in turn; the Twins were sitting side by side and joined hands before each happily nodded at me, and the other three smiled and affirmed. "A question for Chelsea. Was this in any way your suggestion?"

I was pretty sure that the others knew Chelsea and I had a short history together what now seemed a lifetime ago, but ... she was quick to come back with "No; we were throwing around some ideas and not getting very far, and I went to get the coffee. It took maybe seven or eight minutes, but when I got back with the tray the idea was in circulation. I've still no idea who came up with it, and I did not say a word except to say that I'd support it. Later when it was all settled and what Hart has just said had been agreed in outline, I simply threw in a sentence to the effect that they will not regret it."

I nodded in acknowledgment, and continued. "We will change arrangements a bit so we have a light supper in the Twins' place at 7.30; I leave about 8, you draw straws or flip coins and the winner -- or is it the loser? - gets changed and wanders over for 9. No alcohol at supper, and none at my place either.

"There will be a safe word, because above all I care for you deeply and want you to both be and feel completely safe and secure.

"This next is vital. Whatever happens, from now there will be absolutely no discussions about your visits, either before or after. When you draw lots each day, one of you will organise the dice or cards or whatever, and it will be done silently. Also, after tonight, none of the six of us will speak a single word about this little project, ever, with anyone inside or outside this group; if the story did leak out, with all the other strings that have been pulled, money spent and favours given, we would probably all go to jail. I am certain I would, and for a long time.

"Finally, yes I do have one or two tiny foibles. My only instruction is that you each arrive wearing the rowing suit you won either the heat or the final in, over a tight white sports bra and a small but respectable pair of white cotton panties. White ankle socks, which must stay on all night. And shoes or sandals. Nothing else".

All were smiles. I had not spoiled anything, luckily. Hart wrapped up the evening.

"Good. I know we can all of us guarantee to keep our mouths shut. Allow me, on the group's behalf, to close with a pre-gift for you. I am sure that a question will form in your mind that, because of this pact of omerta, you will never be able to ask. I know the others will approve if I answer it for you now. About 7 or 8 months ago we were having a slight -- er -- comfort crisis. So we all went to a laser clinic for an afternoon, and now all of us are and forever will be completely hairless below our waists. Oh yes, and you will see no tan lines, anywhere. You have a good evening." As they all got up to go, I had to stay sitting for a few moments.

I had some planning to do, and maybe one or two items to source. I realised in passing that -- slightly contrary to the terms of the offer? - two of my nights (the ones with Brook and the Twins) would of necessity have to at least start a little outside my total control, but there is not a heterosexual man on the planet who would have turned down either prospect.

FOUR EVENINGS

Brook had by now lost both crutches and bandages, but even so the excellent work done to patch her leg back up would be visible for some months and she would probably have a limp for many years if not the rest of her life. Parker, ever the optimist, had -- perfectly correctly - pointed out that all she had to say was "I am the rower the camera hit in that video" and she would get free drinks in any bar in the Western hemisphere.

She was nervous. She had been in good spirits after the medals and everything, but a couple of days later she had been hit by something like a mild version of PTSD; it had not helped that her face was now known all over the world. She was a tough cookie, though, and had bounced back with just the odd quiet moment when she went back into herself.

Her background had been relevant. Her mother was an academic who wanted her to study forever, it seemed. Her father had rowed at the Olympics, although he had never won a medal, and there had been a clear but unspoken burden on her shoulders to do as well - hence her ultra-focus on all topics relevant to our performance. At last she had made it, and many burdens had been lifted -- although I had not appreciated until that night quite how overpowering they had been.

It had not ... helped? that she was -- and still is -- probably the most stunning of the five. I have said that they were all lookers, but I think if you held a poll of some kind maybe 40% of guys (and ladies?) would say she is the winner. What few people knew was that she was the only one of the five who needed contact lenses, and even fewer knew that she sometimes wore glasses late in the day. Thank you God, she wore them now. Don't ask me how, but the rather severe frames made her look about ten years younger than her current 24. Think about that. Her almost-flat chest only helped that image, and to top it all her nipples permanently stood up like bullets - they quite often showed through a wet shirt or top as very dark.

Given everything that had gone on, I had resolved that I would go slowly with her. She told me her safe word. I gave her a bottle of water, and we sat down to talk. After perhaps half an hour she was fully relaxed, and felt able to tell me one bit of news that she felt she could not easily share with the others.

"I don't know whether to feel abused or flattered, but I know I am very ... something. A couple of weeks ago I received a message from -- let's call it a well-known magazine - offering me a quarter of a million dollars, paid in any way I want, in any currency, if I would pose for them. The only two conditions are that I will be completely naked for every picture, and that my leg is bandaged up like it was during the medal ceremony." Wow. For one of the few occasions in all our time working together I could not offer any advice -- useful or otherwise.

I changed the subject. "So how are you now, really?"

She grinned, much to my surprise. "Finally, after half my fucking life, I am free and my own woman and can do exactly what the fuck I want" Had I mentioned that she was the one with the potty-mouth ? "Not, I hasten to add, that I ever felt controlled by you, as the four was so much a communal effort, but back in my past life by family and by school and ... and ALL THAT SHIT".

She stood up tall. "Stand up you wonderful man." she said, and gathered me into her arms for both a hug that I later found out cracked a rib and a smouldering full-on two-minute kiss. I tried to give as good as I was getting, but failed. She finally broke free and added "And you have set me free and laid all my ghosts. Get to work". She put her arms down at her sides to allow me to slide her one-piece racing suit down her body and off. Now she lifted her arms for me to slide her sports bra off, and I guided her to the massage table that I had set up in the inner of my two rooms.

"Face down. Keep the glasses on." I said; once she was settled I reached to her waistband and pulled her panties up, to create a remarkably well-defined and nicely-shaped camel toe. I had managed to get hold of a bottle of massage oil, and first of all I spent a pleasant half-hour or so getting to know all the muscles in her back and thighs. I soon realised exactly how fit and powerful she -- and, therefore, the others -- had become. I also realised how good my massage technique was, as the faint aura of aroused pussy made itself known and then grew steadily. I also, belatedly, realised that I was about to bring to an end more than two years of my own celibacy, and decided to up the pace a bit. I turned her over and peeled off her damp panties.

As it turned out, her body would not have disappointed a single reader of that magazine she had mentioned. I gently pushed on one knee to move it away from the other, and she anticipated the next part of my battleplan by planting her feet flat on the table, spreading her legs wide and beginning to play with her vulva. A shy, bright-pink clit quickly came out to see what was happening. I dragged my eyes from this attractive package to take in the rest of her. She might have had the fewest curves of the group, but what she did have was perfectly formed, neatly tanned and utterly flawless. It tuned out that those ever-prominent nipples sat on quite large, light brown areolae to make a lovely overall ensemble. As was only fitting, I spent a couple of minutes lightly kissing what I could see before a -- slightly characteristic by now - "Come on, other end" prompted me to shift my focus.

So, under protest (well, no, not really) I did my duty on a neat and tight little -- but very keen -- pussy. Brook started to wriggle after not very long, making her need clear, so when I felt that I had teased her just about enough I quickly pulled her ass to the end of the table, pulled her ankles as wide apart as I could and pushed Mr Happy all the way in. I was quickly aware of two things; she was tight but also very wet, and she had been wound up much more than I had realised as she shuddered violently in the grip of a major orgasm. I slowed down but did not fully withdraw as she came back down; this was not appreciated as I now got a growled "Don't fucking stop, please please don't fucking stop.".

This evening had now, clearly, drifted far away from my control, but I would bravely soldier on. So as she grasped the table sides for dear life I pounded away; as I wallowed in the sheer joy of the physical sensations she simply came again and again and again. It was doing wonders for my ego to see her like this, but I am only flesh and blood so after maybe five minutes I had to pull out, but I then covered her, pussy to top of her head, in what seemed like all the cum I had accumulated for two years.

She just lay there, seemingly covered in white and completely inert, while I sank down in a nearby armchair. After maybe five minutes she stirred, opened her eyes to find me, then on shaky legs came over to sit across my lap. Nothing was said for a long time as we hugged gently -- it was as if both of us knew a spell would be broken if one of us spoke. Finally, in a very shaky voice, she simply said "You lovely man. Thank you" and burst into tears. As I understood that all the pain and tension she had accumulated over so long was finally evaporating, I realised the same about myself and wept with her in relief and gratitude.

And that was almost all the session. We probably spent three or four hours in that chair before moving to the bed to just lie together, in much the same position, gently touching each other in a very loving but almost non-sexual way, whispering about not much to each other, often getting damp-eyed as one or another bad piece of our pasts came to the surface to be washed-away. Although I was quite surprised by it all at the time, no great analysis was needed -- what I had believed I'd had well under control had simply not been tied-down as tightly as I thought. The last half-hour of the session we moved up to also kissing, but still in a chaste way. It was all that was needed, and I made clear to Brook how very grateful I was to her.

I did not follow-up the subject until some months later, but it turned out that she never mentioned that magazine's offer to the others. We did not go into great detail, but it was very clear that she was so proud of their time together, all they had accomplished and their medal-winning performance she felt all that respect and love would have been cheapened forever -- possibly even destroyed - if she had even mentioned it, let alone accepted the offer. Sounds right to me.

Chelsea I have already sketched in some background about. Given that she is about 4 or 5 years older than the others, her body was a perhaps little rounder and broader than theirs, but it was equally well-defined and toned. Medium-B boobs, often unrestrained as she always put comfort as one of her priorities be it to do with clothing, food, accommodation or whatever. I have also mentioned -- but not in detail -- that we had a little shared sexual history. This came about almost by accident, after my series of personal disasters, as the accumulated mourning and new responsibilities heaped themselves upon me to a sometimes-intolerable extent. I had nobody left to whom I could just talk as a friend; all my contacts and acquaintances had either been out of touch for too long (recall that I had moved 2,000 miles from my previous home), or had University roles or connections to consider as their main priority.

Precisely because Chelsea had been also been a good friend to Alexandra, and also felt her loss very badly, she was able to offer me a safe and helpful shoulder to lean on, and for the same reason it was not totally abhorrent that she and I went to bed together maybe a dozen times. It was of course not good -- it was pretty awful, in retrospect - that as her coach I was theoretically in a supervisory role over her, so before anyone found out about us we called it a day. I was sufficiently healed by then to let her go.

She had not been a nun since then, and I would not have wanted or expected her to be. However, she had a two-fold problem. As a doctoral student with teaching duties, all students were off-limits, as were the academic staff. Her hunting-ground (for lack of a better expression) was therefore in the town; although this offered quite a few virile candidates, she was regularly disappointed that their post-coital discussions were invariably dull and focused on ball sports. Her second difficulty was her body. Sure she was quite gorgeous, and looked (still looks) as good as any model; the fact was that she was (and still is) about 6-3 and very well-muscled, an intimidating sight for almost any guy. A few minutes with her would make it clear to anyone that she is good-humoured, kind and thoughtful, but not all that many males got past the height thing. As you'd expect, the other four also suffered from these disadvantages, but Chelsea had been putting up with them for longer and it had been getting more and more difficult to entice a suitably-qualified partner into her bed.