Kim and Ian

Saturday, October 6th, 2057

Ian stirred awake, the world around him a hazy blur, as a dull ache throbbed at his temples. The sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a soft golden hue across the room, but it did little to ease his discomfort. Squinting through his foggy vision, he managed to make out the time on his watch—9:32 AM—before surrendering to the urge to close his eyes once more, letting the warmth of the blankets envelop him like a cocoon.

As he lay there, fragments of the previous night began to drift to the surface of his mind, a chaotic montage of laughter, music, and the intoxicating thrill of indulgence. But amidst the swirling memories, he became aware of a peculiar weight resting on his lower abdomen. Curiosity piqued, he let his hand wander downward to investigate. His fingers brushed against soft, smooth skin, and he felt the gentle rise and fall of warmth beneath his touch. The leg was smooth and elegant, tapering into a delicate curve at the hip, and with each exploration, he was certain it belonged to his wife, Kim.

“You like what you feel?” Kim's voice floated to him, sultry and playful, breaking through the remnants of his disorientation.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he recognized the truth in her question. “Good morning,” he replied, finally opening his eyes to meet hers, her expression a blend of amusement and affection.

“You okay?” she asked, her brow slightly furrowed with concern.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. Just a little hungover,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but laced with a hint of warmth. “It was a crazy night.” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling, the intricate patterns of the plaster blending into a whirl of confusion as he delved deeper into his recollections.

Images began to crystallize—a wild night filled with laughter and passion, the three of them—himself, Kim, and Khadija—lost in the throes of a shared intimacy. He recalled the excitement of trying out a new sex gadget on Khadija, the way it had sparked laughter but ultimately led to an unexpected disaster. The rest of his life before last night felt like a distant memory, shrouded in fog. Yet he sensed that the more he engaged in conversation, the clearer his memories would become, like sunlight piercing through a thick fog, illuminating the shadows of his mind.

“Bet you can’t remember the last time you slept till 9:30 in the morning,” Kim teased, her voice light and playful, cutting through the haze of the room.

Ian turned his head, his gaze drawn to the expansive, curtainless windows. The bright blue sky spilled in, painting the walls with a soft, warm light that felt almost foreign in its clarity. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, as the realization that he was in a sleek, modern condo settled over him like a heavy blanket. “You got me on that one,” he replied, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. He reached out instinctively, fingers searching through the tangled layers of bed covers and stray pillows, hoping to find Khadija nestled among them. When his hand met only emptiness, disappointment seeped into his chest like a cold draft.

With a sigh, he twisted his body toward Kim, who was perched beside him, and she instinctively lowered her leg from his abdomen, creating a small space between them. She had already slipped out of bed a couple of times, her silhouette disappearing into the soft morning light, only to return each time, drawn by the sight of him, restless and tormented in his sleep.

She leaned closer, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss, and he couldn’t resist the urge to palm her butt, squeezing her soft curves with a teasing familiarity. As she nuzzled against him, the warmth of her bare breasts pressed against his chest, and a low, tempting moan escaped her lips. “Careful now, I don’t think you want a round three,” she warned, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

But the moment of intimacy was shattered by the weight of his concern. “Where is Khadija? Is she okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing with genuine worry.

“She’s a bit sore, but she’ll be fine. She left for home already,” Kim replied, her voice tinged with disappointment as she rolled onto her back, the sheets rustling around her. The shift in conversation stung, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that something deeper was troubling her husband. This wasn’t just the aftermath of a wild night of drinking and passion; he was distant, and his reluctance to engage in their usual morning play left her unsettled. She felt the familiar stirrings of concern rise within her, compelling her to delve deeper into the mystery that had begun to unfold the night before.

Ian swung his legs off the edge of the bed, the cool wooden floor sending a shiver up his spine as he settled into a heavy silence. He cradled his head in his hands, the weight of his uncertainty pressing down on him like an anchor. Memories, elusive and fragmented, surged through his mind like a tidal wave, each one crashing against the shores of his consciousness, bringing with it a deluge of questions that felt both urgent and overwhelming.

He blinked into the dim light of the room, recalling he was in Toronto, Canada’s sprawling metropolis, a city pulsing with life and energy. Yet, his thoughts drifted to Oakville, the quieter suburb that he called home, a place where the chaos of city life faded into serene landscapes. This luxurious condo, with its sleek modern design and sweeping views, was merely one jewel in the crown of his global real estate portfolio. But the specifics of his wealth—the lavish properties, the extravagant lifestyle—eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

His heart raced with a tumult of emotions, overshadowing his rational thoughts. Why had Khadija left without a word, vanishing like a ghost into the night? He bit his lip, suppressing the urge to dwell on her absence. Kim, with her keen intuition, would undoubtedly sense his turmoil. He had to tread carefully, lest he awaken her suspicions about the gaping void in his memory.

As insecurity crept in, doubt slithered into the corners of his mind, wrapping around his thoughts like a dark fog. What if his wives were somehow involved in this amnesia? The notion twisted in his gut, a sinister possibility that both women might have conspired to drug him, trapping him in this labyrinth of forgetfulness. Or perhaps it was a reckless choice of his own that had led to this disorienting state. Panic threatened to unravel him, but he clenched his fists, fighting to regain control over the spiraling chaos within.

In a moment of resolve, he steeled himself, recognizing that seeking the truth was paramount to dispelling his fears. Diversifying his sources of information seemed the most prudent course of action. He knew it might upset Kim, but the pull of Oakville beckoned him, promising clarity and answers hidden within the familiarity of home.

With determination, he rose from the bed, the sheets sliding down his body as he wrapped one of them around his waist. He ambled toward the bathroom, his bare feet padding softly against the floor, the coolness grounding him momentarily as he assessed his physicality. Each step felt deliberate, as if he were reclaiming a part of himself with every movement.

Emerging from the bathroom, he crossed the room to one of the towering floor-to-ceiling windows. As he gazed out, the sprawling city unfolded beneath him, a vibrant tapestry of life and energy. The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he was perched over fifty stories high, the urban landscape sprawling endlessly, a dizzying reminder of both his elevation and his disorientation. The city hummed below, alive and bustling, and yet, within him, a storm brewed, waiting to be calmed.

Curiosity sparked within him as he moved closer to the expansive. He leaned forward, gazing down at the chaotic ballet of cars weaving through the congested streets below, their honks and revs a distant symphony of urban life. Beyond the asphalt, the lake spread out like a shimmering blanket, its surface glistening under the sun's warm embrace. In the adjacent buildings, shadows danced as people moved about, their silhouettes hinting at the stories unfolding behind glass facades. Suddenly, a manned drone zipped past, mere meters from the window, and he flinched instinctively, ducking back as if the drone was a predator that had swooped in for a closer look.

On the bed, Kim lay propped on her side, her eyes fixed on him with an amused glimmer. A laugh threatened to escape her lips. “The windows are one-way, bullet-proof, and solar-adaptive,” she remarked, her tone playful yet laced with a hint of exasperation. Ian turned to her, a smile creeping onto his face, nodding subtly in acknowledgment before shifting his focus to the wrinkled pile of clothes strewn across the floor beside his travel bag. He reached for his pants, the fabric cool against his skin, and began to slip them on.

Kim’s expression shifted as she abruptly sat up, her gaze piercing through the morning light. “Where are you going, babe?” she asked sharply, the edge of her voice cutting through the air like a knife.

“I feel bad about Khadija. I’ve gotta go see her and apologize,” he replied, his tone heavy with sincerity.

“So, you’re just gonna run out like that? You haven’t even showered?” Her voice softened, but urgency seeped through. “I was hoping we could have breakfast at our favorite spot in Scarborough. After that, we could do some last-minute shopping together. I haven’t been to the Scarborough Town Centre in years. We can head back to Oakville later,” she complained, knowing well that once Ian had set his mind on something, it was nearly impossible to change his course.

Ignoring her pleas, Ian continued dressing, the fabric rustling softly as he slipped his shirt on. “I’ll wash up when I get home. Sorry babe, I’ll make it up to you. I promise,” he said, the sincerity of his words hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

Once he had thrown on his blazer, he approached the bed, leaning in to steal a kiss. But as he moved closer, Kim tossed the sheets aside, revealing her fully nude body, her broad smile radiating warmth. Ian’s heart raced as he took in the sight of her, the soft curves of her plump breasts swaying gently, the inviting breadth of her hips, and her lush, unshaven crotch. The temptation was palpable, a feast for his eyes, yet the weight of his resolve held him firm.

"Not bad for 40 and three kids, huh?" she said with a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Beautiful," he replied, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer than he intended. He reached out, his fingers briefly brushing against her raised knee, a fleeting connection that sent a ripple of warmth through him. Reluctantly, he turned to leave, his mind racing. Three kids, he pondered, and how many does Khadija have?

As he stepped away, he cast a glance back over his shoulder, the natural light of the room illuminating her silhouette. "We’ve got to have a serious talk soon," he called out, his voice tinged with a mix of urgency and curiosity.