Darlene moved around the front bumper and gave me a hug as she murmured in my ear, "Did I mention that this is an all-women survival commune?"
"You forgot to share that little bit of news with me. What the hell we gonna do now?" I muttered back.
Darlene was like that. She tended to skimp on the details and fill the void with trivia or useless facts. She held my hand as we broke from our embrace and spoke to the assembled women on the porch.
"I would like you to meet my partner, Dennis Richards, everyone. He's old, but he's kinda cool once you have a chance to know him."
An older woman, who turned out to be the group's leader, stepped forward. "I'm Sheila Carson, Mr. Richards. Please come inside. I think we need to have a talk."
I had the same, uneasy "Oh crap! Now, what?" feeling that I used to have when summoned to the principal's office as a kid.
Sheila turned on her heels, walked inside, and the rest of us followed into the cabin's great room. If the building appeared big from the outside, standing in the middle of the cathedral hall, the misty room seemed to go on forever. A massive freestanding stone fireplace dominated the central space with a blazing fire radiating heat and light in all directions.
The distant ceiling towering over the open space was almost lost in the smoky haze and shadows of the great room. Rustic rough wooden balconies ringed the walls on all sides at the second story level. Thousands of LED icicle lights hung from the unpainted railings and stairways. A soft, comforting glow bathed the room in the soothing and pleasant colors of an autumn sunset.
Sheila directed us to go with her to her upstairs office. She stood about five feet six inches and was a good-looking professional woman about my age. She wore no makeup. She needed none. Streaks of red highlighted her bangs and her short cropped brunette hair, and she appeared to be in magnificent physical condition.
Her skin had the bronze tan of someone who was no newcomer to hard outdoor labor. Her face was more handsome than beautiful. She dressed in faded work jeans and a low-cut wool sweater, which allowed an excellent view of well-tanned, medium-sized breasts and the valley between.
Sheila's office featured a giant oak desk and a stone hearth. A picture window filled one wall with a breathtaking panorama of the frosted mountains painted silver in the light of an almost full moon. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase crammed with books covered the opposite wall. There were several oriental rugs scattered about on the wood floor.
"Make yourselves comfortable, I'll be right back." Sheila made a quick exit through a side door.
Her abrupt departure startled me. Something was brewing. Darlene and I took a seat on a small loveseat in front of a coffee table and exchanged worried glances while we waited.
I bent close and whispered, "What the hell is going on? This ain't the warm and fuzzy welcome we expected."
"No kidding. I don't understand. I told Sheila's assistant that you were coming with me, and she said, 'Great, the more, the merrier.'"
We could hear the muffled voices but not the words of two women engaged in a heated exchange in the next room. The argument stopped abruptly, and a moment later, Sheila entered the office with another woman in tow.
"Your presence here presents us with something of a problem, Mr. Richards. Darlene sent us a text to our satellite phone. She told us she would be arriving with her lover 'Denise'. It was on that basis that we gave you permission to stay with our family of sisters." Sheila crossed her arms and studied me closely.
Darlene let out a little gasp before she burst out laughing. "Shit-for-brains auto-correct will get you every time. I dictated it on my iPhone. I never noticed it changed Dennis to Denise," Darlene said.
Oh, damn! Talk about getting off to a lousy start. We were at the intersection of Colossal and Fuck Up. It took Sheila only a moment to absorb the implications of Darlene's unintended error. No conspiracy at work here, only faulty technology.
"Mistake or not, Mr. Richards' residence within our family might produce, er, unnecessary sexual tension; that kind of stress can be bad for families," Sheila explained as she took a seat across from us.
"Seriously? If you're all lesbians, how can an old fart like me create any kind of stress?" I protested.
"There are capital-L lesbians, and there are lowercase-L lesbians, Mr. Richards, and then there are those who might want to find pleasure from a man out of mischief or mere curiosity. The fact that you're old makes you seem harmless, but I know better. You're not as safe as you appear. You've seduced one of my sisters and convinced her to take you on as a lover," Sheila glanced over at my companion.
I also gave Darlene a curious look of my own.
I had suspected but never knew for sure that my lady love walked both sides of the street.
Sheila leaned forward and looked directly into Darlene's eyes. "Since we're already on the subject, why on earth did you pick such an old guy for a lover in the first place? Good Lord girl, he's old enough to be your father or even your grandfather."
Darlene laughed. "Everyone wants to hear about our May-December relationship. I picked Dennis because he's low maintenance, easy to be with, and treats me with respect. He's a fantastic lover and knows how to make me happy. He has an extremely talented tongue."
Sheila looked at me and raised a questioning eyebrow. I smiled back and reddened as the "talented tongue" comment floated in the air like a lost balloon.
She let the silence stretch out a bit, and then reached across the coffee table, took Darlene's right hand in her own, and licked her lips, "Tell me, dear sister, is his penis as talented?"
I shifted in my seat and struggled to keep a neutral expression as the two women discussed my sexual performance. I couldn't imagine a more awkward conversation.
Darlene eyes widened in surprise at Sheila's question and then narrowed in thoughtful reflection for several moments.
"His thing is untrained, and it doesn't work as well as his mouth. Sometimes my lover can't get it up or keep it up. Other times, his pecker has a mind of its own. He often suffers from premature ejaculation when he eventually does generate an erection."
Sheila glanced over at me and raised an inquiring eyebrow. I just blushed and did my best to sink out of sight. I tried to avoid any response that might further extend the discussion. Darlene tended to overshare information.
Turning toward her assistant, Sheila asked, "Will you please show Darlene to her room and round up a few of the women to help unpack their vehicle, Lucia? I need to spend a few minutes on bringing Dennis up to speed on the ground rules for our colony. Please let the kitchen crew and the others know that we may be a little late for dinner."
With a fleeting kiss on my lips, Darlene rose and give Sheila a noticeably longer smooch as she followed Lucia out of the room. As the door closed, Sheila stood and beckoned me to follow her.
"Let's adjourn to the next room where we can relax. We've got a lot to talk about."
No doubt about it, I was a stranger in a very strange land.