Eden Valley

Until I graduated from college, my life followed a predictable routine, perhaps even teetering on the edge of monotony. I dutifully attended classes, maintaining decent grades, participated in intramural sports, and even had a variety of sexual encounters with fellow students. My future seemed clear-cut: earn my degree in architectural engineering and secure a position at a firm in the bustling city. These were my aspirations—until the day everything changed with the news of my aunt’s passing.

Aunt Emily, my mother’s younger sister, was a vibrant presence in my life. Her striking beauty, infectious humor, and adventurous spirit made her a beloved figure in our family. She used to share our home until, when I was sixteen, she left under a veil of mystery. She relocated to the serene mountains of Colorado, where she established a photography studio in a secluded, private community known as Eden Valley. Her communications became infrequent, but whenever she called, her voice resonated with contentment and joy.

Then, a week after my college graduation, the tranquility of my life was shattered by the tragic news of her untimely **** in a boating accident. Her funeral was a somber affair, a gathering of family and friends cloaked in grief. A week after the funeral, I found myself in an unfamiliar lawyer’s office, where I learned Aunt Emily had bequeathed her photography studio and house to me. The revelation left me stunned, a blend of skepticism and intrigue stirring inside. The lawyer handed me a letter, its envelope bearing my aunt’s familiar, elegant handwriting. He explained that Aunt Emily had requested I read it, her final words a bridge to the life she had left behind.

The envelope with the letter contained a pass card to Eden Valley and read:

"Sam, if you're reading this, something has happened to me, and you are now the owner of Vista Visions photo studio and a house in Eden Valley. This might be surprising to you, and you might not fully understand yet, but I couldn't entrust the house and studio to just anyone. You've always been a smart kid with a positive attitude and an open mind—I believe you'll know what to do once you grasp the situation. Before making any decisions about what I'm leaving you, I'd like you to visit Eden Valley and live there for about a month. Eden Valley is incredibly special, more than you can imagine, and you'll need some time there to understand why. After a month, you'll be able to decide what to do with the house and studio. I think you'll choose to stay, but the choice is yours. Before you go, know that Eden Valley is a private community with rules you must follow:

• No children – no one under the age of 18 is to be admitted
• Privacy is important – no information is to be shared about the community or its members without the express permission of the community as a whole
• Visitors must be approved by the community before entry
• Clothing is not required unless otherwise posted
• Be open – an open mind is important to enjoying the Eden Valley community and the varied experiences it has to offer”

Despite the raw pain still eating at me from losing my Aunt Emily, the promise of something waiting in Eden Valley propelled me forward. With no job prospects to cling onto and little else to lose, I booked a one-way plane ticket, hurriedly filled a duffel bag with my essentials, shared tearful goodbyes with my parents and sister, and was soon airborne, chasing an elusive promise in Eden Valley.

After landing at a tiny airport named Stevens Field, I endured a long, solitary car ride down a single, rarely trodden road. This narrow asphalt strip wound its way through dense stands of towering pines and rugged trails until it opened into a deep, breathtaking valley framed by craggy mountains. There, hidden away at the valley’s end, was a community fortified by a tall, concrete wall and topped by a modern gate fitted with an electronic kiosk. Stepping up to the kiosk, I hesitated a moment before pressing the lone red button embedded in its glossy surface. Almost instantly, a live image appeared, revealing the friendly smile of an attractive blonde woman. “Good afternoon, how can I help you?” she asked in a warm, melodious tone that carried through the crisp valley air.

I identified myself, carefully holding up the pass so the camera could capture the details. Her smile deepened as she said, “Well, come on in. We’ve been waiting for you, Sam. My name is Cheryl. Just pull straight ahead once the gate opens and I’ll meet you at the first building on the left.”

No sooner had I heard her instructions than the imposing gate slowly swung open and I prepared to enter the community. Rising on either side, the mountains framed the picturesque settlement like a scene lifted from a Swiss postcard. I marveled as the first building on the left came into view—a charming structure that bore the dual function of town hall and post office. True to her word, Cheryl emerged from the building’s welcoming doorway.

While her image on the screen had already captivated me, meeting Cheryl face-to-face was an entirely different experience. Standing about 5’6” with the confident air of youth in her late twenties, she exuded a relaxed yet enticing charm. She wore a short, pleated skirt reminiscent of a tennis player's attire and a crisp buttoned blouse with several top buttons casually undone. Her slightly curled blonde hair framed a radiant face, and each movement accentuated her long, tanned, toned legs. As she neared, I noticed the subtle bounce of her chest—her blouse revealing enough to see that she wasn’t wearing a bra—and even caught a fleeting glimpse of a hint of areola when her top shifted with her movements.

I rolled down my window as she approached, and as she leaned in with her elbows resting on the car’s window frame, I couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Her open display of vulnerability did nothing to hide her allure; in fact, it only amplified it. With a casual, unselfconscious smile, she pointed toward a cluster of parking spots beside the building. “Park right over there, come on inside, and I’ll give you a little orientation about our community,” she instructed, her tone warm and unhurried.

Following her directions, I parked the car while stealing quick, admiring glances as she bounced away. In one fleeting moment, a playful breeze lifted her skirt ever so slightly, teasing the outline of what might have been bare skin beneath. My heart thumped with a mix of nervous anticipation and raw attraction as I stepped out of the car and followed her into the building.

Inside the building, the atmosphere was calm and welcoming. On the left, a sleek reception desk stood, flanked by potted plants that added a touch of greenery to the otherwise neutral decor. To the right, a cozy waiting room beckoned, featuring a plush sofa upholstered in soft fabric and a large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall. The room was bathed in warm, ambient lighting, which created a soothing environment. Cheryl, with her gentle demeanor and kind eyes, guided me to the inviting sofa and gestured for me to take a seat.

"I’m so sorry about your Aunt Emily. We all cherished her dearly," she said with genuine empathy. "We hope that you'll feel at home here and consider staying with us. However, Eden Valley is quite an extraordinary community, and we have a brief video that will help explain its uniqueness. We've found that it eases confusion and prevents misunderstandings for newcomers, although we do strictly regulate who is allowed entry. You'll see why after viewing the video," she explained, her voice reassuring. She handed me a chilled bottle of Eden Valley Spring Water, the condensation cool against my hand, and added, "Here's something to sip on while you relax. Just let me know when you're finished." With a warm smile, she bounced gracefully out of the room and returned to her post behind the reception desk, her footsteps light and purposeful.

I absentmindedly began to sip the water as the video flickered to life, introducing a vibrant scene with animated cartoon characters revealing the history and dynamics of Eden Valley. To summarize—the enchanting Eden Valley was founded in the early 1920s, nestled snugly in a picturesque valley embraced by the towering mountains of Colorado. A shimmering body of water, Lake Harmony, lay adjacent to the town, its surface a mirror reflecting the grandeur of its surroundings. This lake, filled with snowmelt runoff from the majestic peaks and nourished by natural underground springs, served as the town's vital reservoir.

The founders of this idyllic settlement, a group self-identified as The Seekers of Light, were a unique, quasi-religious community yearning for liberation from persecution—a sanctuary where they could live in harmony with their beliefs. Shortly after laying the foundations of what would become Eden Valley, The Seekers of Light began to observe intriguing shifts in behavior, later attributed to the unusual properties of Lake Harmony's water. A mysterious alchemy of minerals in the runoff, combined with the mineral and chemical compounds emitted by the underground springs, had created a drinking supply that profoundly altered the townspeople’s behavior, forever changing Eden Valley's destiny.

The water's effects were remarkable, reducing illness, significantly boosting libido, and lowering inhibitions. Strangely, it also acted as a natural contraceptive, as no woman in the town had conceived in nearly a century, and there wasn't a single documented case of a sexually transmitted disease. These water-induced behaviors cultivated a unique culture in the town, unlike any other, leading residents to establish a society of essentially unrestrained intimacy, where engaging in sexual encounters with anyone at any time was commonplace. This culture was a primary reason for the stringent restrictions on guests and visitors, making it challenging for residents to adapt to the outside world, resulting in their infrequent departures.

The video explained that after taking their first sip of the water, people experienced an immediate, though short-lived, boost in libido and a lowering of inhibitions. It took a few days—typically three to five—of living in the town for the water's effects to become permanent. After this period, open and uninhibited sexual behavior became not only common but an essential part of everyday life.

At the conclusion of the orientation video, a list of town rules was shown, the first three of which I already knew:

1. No minors – admission is restricted to those 18 and older
2. Privacy is crucial – no information about the community or its members should be shared without the community's collective consent
3. Visitors must receive community approval before entering
4. Sex is allowed at any time and place with anyone, provided all parties consent and safety is not compromised (sex while driving is discouraged)
5. Marriages and partnerships are permitted and encouraged, but monogamous relationships are discouraged and impractical
6. Sexual interactions among family members, though not promoted, are considered normal and almost unavoidable

I had to confess that the concept of a freeuse society both bewildered and thrilled me, an inner conflict mirrored by the rapid heat rising within me. My mind raced with vivid fantasies of Cheryl—even as I tried to grasp the new cultural paradigm—imagining what was under that provocative outfit required little imagination. The anticipation built inside me until I could feel my unmistakable arousal, leaving me momentarily stunned on the worn couch. Awkwardly, I rose and made my way to the reception desk, every movement tinged with a heady mix of desire and disbelief and my stiff cock made walking a challenge. It was then that the sight of a water bottle brought me back to reality, reminding me with a jolt that every tantalizing detail of the orientation video was unfiltered, real life.

Just then, a flash of awareness—the cool, familiar presence of the water bottle—brought it all into sharper focus: everything I’d seen in the video was as real as the pulse in my veins. When I finally reached her, I couldn’t help but notice how fluidly she embodied desire. With a nonchalant grace, her hand slipped beneath the flowing fabric of her skirt as she absentmindedly caressed herself, each motion hinting at a private pleasure. Catching my gaze, she lifted her eyes and flashed a knowing smile before deliberately drawing back her hand, sensually licking glistening fluid from her fingers.

"Hi Sam, what did you think of the orientation?" she purred, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

The atmosphere crackled with an intoxicating blend of professionalism and unspoken intimacy. "It was amazing. I’m still a bit overwhelmed, but I have a feeling I’m really going to like it here," I managed to reply, my voice betraying my excitement.

With an impish glint in her eye, Cheryl leaned forward, her movements fluid and deliberate. "I have no doubt you'll fit right in. Would you like me to complete the orientation for you now?" she asked, her tone both inviting and commanding.

Before I could form another word, she circled the reception desk with sensual purpose. In a swift, practiced motion, she unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans. Dropping gracefully to her knees, she took my throbbing erection into her warm, wet mouth. Every sensation was magnified—the intimate massage of her tongue, the soft, enveloping slickness as she expertly worked her magic. Despite the average length of my member, its girth was accentuated by her expert attention; every flick and swirl of her tongue brought a shiver of delight, and I felt it press deeply against the back of her throat as she deftly navigated every contour.

The sensations built to a fever pitch. I soon lost control, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all, and with hardly a moment to hold out, I exploded in a rush of pleasure that she swallowed without pause. As she slowly raised her head, licking her lips and wiping away the evidence of our shared indulgence, she murmured, "Mmmmm. Thank you. I was getting pretty bored at my desk today, and I really needed that."

I hastily tried to recover as I pulled my zipper back up, still shaking off the waves of pleasure. Laughing lightly, I replied, "No. Thank you! That was incredible—easily the best orientation I’ve ever had."

With a playful air, she reassured me, "Sweety, that’s just the beginning. It might take a bit, but soon you’ll feel at home here. Now, would you like another water?" Her tone promised more delights yet to come.

Parched and still buzzing from the encounter, I accepted immediately, "Absolutely, I'm parched." Cheryl handed me a chilled bottle of water, its cool surface glistening under the soft lighting. As I gulped it down, the liquid was refreshingly pure with a hint of an indefinable something extra—a tingle raced down my spine with each swallow.

"Okay, Sam," she said, shifting gears and producing a neatly folded map alongside a ring of keys. "Let’s get you on your way. Head down the street and turn left here; your house and photo studio are waiting at the corner of Main and Light Streets. And these keys include the garage door opener."

Grinning from ear to ear, I accepted the keys and the map. "Thanks again," I replied, stepping out the door with a buoyant stride and an eager heart, already looking forward to the endless adventures that lay ahead.

Author's note: I made a few minor changes to the way the spring water affects people in order to better explain some current behaviors and to better support plot elements I have planned for future chapters.