by Allie Ritch
Was he supposed to be drinking alcohol after a concussion? I wasn’t sure, but I was more determined than ever to get him off his feet. Without breaking the kiss, I reached down to pop the button of his jeans. He pulled back, offering me the chance I needed to grasp the metal tab of his zipper and slide open his fly.
“Nothing wrong with your circulation,” I teased.
His erection was as long and strong as usual. He hissed when I slipped my fingers around the fat head of his cock and gave it a testing squeeze. A tiny drop of precum oozed out. I took a firmer hold on his shaft and used it to lead him to the couch in the family room. As soon as we reached it, I dropped his pants and pulled off his shoes and socks so I could bare him from the waist down. Removing his shirt was a trickier proposition since raising his arms was painful. Between the two of us, we took it off very slowly.
Once he was fully naked, he reached for my blouse. “You’re overdressed.”
“And you’re overeager.” I slapped his hands away and pushed my body into him so he was forced to take a seat. “Why don’t you just sit there and enjoy the show?”
He looked surprised, though definitely interested.
I’d never done a striptease before, but it was worth a try if it kept him in place. Working from the top down, I unclipped my hair and let it fall in messy waves. Although I wasn’t very graceful, I swayed my hips in what I hoped was an erotic movement.
My blouse came next. This one didn’t have any buttons, so I had to slip it off over my head. I teased him by fanning the hem up and down a few times before I tugged it off, though for now I left my bra on. The zipper to my slacks ran along my left hip. I slid it down and let it gape open while I caressed my body all the way up to my hair.
“You’re killing me here.” I could see Chuck was a captive audience.
I feigned a pout. “You mean you’re not enjoying this?”
“I’m enjoying it too much,” he admitted.
The compliment made me bold. After kicking off my shoes, I bent over and gave him a clear view of my butt. It was meant to be a provocative pose, but I lost my balance when I pushed my slacks down. I landed in a heap on the floor and rolled around wrestling with myself to get my pants the rest of the way off.
My cheeks were burning. When I looked up, though, I discovered Chuck didn’t look the least bit turned off. His chest pumped in and out with shallow breaths, and his gaze drank me in. The greatest barometer was his flushed cock standing at full attention in his lap.
I attempted a quick recovery by rolling onto my hands and knees. Then I came toward him in a slow, sex-kitten crawl. Once I reached him, I sprinkled kisses from the inside of his ankle to his knee, letting the hair on his leg tickle my lips and tongue. He widened his stance.
I now had a perfect view of my effect on him as I rose between his legs to kneel. Reaching back, I unhooked my bra with a tiny snick of release, exposing my breasts to the air. My nipples pulled tight and hardened beneath his gaze. I shot my husband a sultry look from between my lashes and sent my bra soaring over his left shoulder to land on the floor.
My panties were harder to get off, especially since I’d heated up while doing this dance. The crotch was saturated from my excitement. I had to stand to push my underwear down my legs, and he gripped my hips to keep me balanced.
Once I was completely naked, I grabbed his wrists and pushed them toward the back of the sofa to either side of him. “Keep your hands right there. Don’t move them no matter what.”
Charles had taught me a thing or two.
“You expect me not to touch you?” Chuck looked incredulous.
As well he might. Sex with Chuck was usually straightforward—very different from my games with Charles or lovemaking with Chad. I had never teased him quite like this.
“I expect you to obey,” I told him. “You did promise to love, honor, and obey me.”
“I thought it was love, honor, and cherish.”
Obviously I wasn’t doing a good enough job if he could come up with a retort. I rectified that by grabbing his cock again and giving it a slow, firm pump. He kicked back his head and groaned.
“That’s more like it.” I kept stroking him. “Just sit still, honey, and let me take care of my poor, wounded husband. I’ll handle everything.”
Right now, I enjoyed handling his dick in particular. The hardwood core was covered in soft, velvet skin, and the whole cap now glistened with precum. His pubic curls were as dark as the ebony locks on his head, a stark contrast to the untanned skin below his navel. I could see his balls were drawn up tight.
Since Chuck didn’t like a lot of foreplay, I had to be careful not to tease him past his threshold. I wanted to push him, but not so far that he seized control. When I saw his knuckles whiten where he clutched the back of the couch, I knew I’d reached his limit.
Though I stopped stroking, I maintained my hold on his cock as I climbed over him to straddle his lap. I positioned his moist crown at my opening. Lubricated by our combined excitement, the head popped in and shot deep the moment I let gravity carry me down. I had to push up for a reprieve before three hard thrusts finally got me all the way seated. Chuck felt huge in this position. My sheath strained at the seams.
“Please.” The plea came from my husband’s lips.
I hadn’t realized I’d closed my eyes. When I opened them, I noticed his hands were still where I’d placed them. The feeling of power that swept over me in that moment was heady. It heightened the sensations in my already sensitive body.
He was so bruised I didn’t dare lay my hands on him. Instead, I braced myself on the back of the sofa, caging his head between my arms. My first upward stroke was a delicious, friction-filled glide. Shivers raced up and down my back and tingled in my scalp. His shaft felt endless. Then I was sinking down, engulfing that solid length and claiming it for my own again. The pressure mounted until I thought I’d burst with it.
“Faster.” Chuck sounded strangled.
Although I wasn’t sure my body could sustain more sensation, I did as he said. I worked my pussy up and down, quickening my pace until I felt as if I were bouncing on a trampoline. The impending orgasm hammered into me as hard as his invading cock. My husband was tense beneath me. He lunged upward with his hips in counterpoint. I knew he was probably hurting himself, but his endorphins must have blocked the pain.
Then there was no more thought. A series of tremors started deep in my womb and blasted outward, causing my channel to lock down on his hard length and begin milking him. Beneath me, Chuck turned rigid as his cock kicked and spit. We shared the climax, moaning and gasping until the last contraction faded.
I collapsed against him and felt his arms come around me. Once his breathing slowed, he shifted his hands and treated me to soothing strokes up and down my back and hair. Each caress grew slower and spaced further apart until I knew he was starting to doze. Moving gingerly, I pushed up to let his sated cock slip free and got to my feet. I gathered our clothing and walked upstairs on wobbly legs.
In my closet, I changed into old clothes that already had a few stains on them. Then I returned to the ground floor and went in search of a paintbrush. Chuck had everything set up, so it was easy to pick up where he’d left off. Maybe it was just the postcoital lethargy, but I felt peaceful as I finished painting. There was something rewarding about manual labor. You could see your progress right away.
The cleanup was the unpleasant part. It took me longer to wash out the brushes, rollers, and pan than the painting itself, and it was messier too. I got it done, though, which meant my husband would have to take it easy for the rest of the night.
Afterward, I had enough time to change back into clean clothes and grab fresh shorts and a T-shirt for Chuck before he woke up. He roused from his nap when I came into the room.
“See. I said you needed to rest.” I couldn’t help but feel smug.
He accepted the clean clothes I offered him, though he had to detour to the guest bath to clean hi
mself first.
When he came back out, he sat on the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. “You wear me out.”
“Is that a complaint?”
He shook his head. “A compliment.”
“Thank you. The painting is done, by the way, as is the cleanup. We can watch a movie now, if you still want to.”
If he was annoyed I’d completed his job behind his back, he didn’t show it. He was always the most agreeable after a round of good lovemaking.
I sat beside him and twirled my finger in his hair. His curls really had grown quite long.
“Maybe we should save the movie for later,” I suggested. “You’re overdue for a haircut.”
He ran his hand over his head as if he’d only just noticed. “Yeah, I am pretty shaggy. I don’t want you to mistake me for Chad.” He grinned to show he was joking.
“Come on then. Now is as good a time as any, especially with my parents coming tomorrow. I want you all to look your best.” I got up, intending to get the scissors and razor.
Chuck didn’t move. “Your parents are coming for a visit? Tomorrow?”
“Didn’t Charles tell you?”
With everything that had happened the day before, I guessed I hadn’t told him and Chad. I’d just assumed Charles would have shared the news. Then again, when would he have had time?
When Chuck didn’t say anything, I hastened to fill the silence. “I’m sorry. I would have told you sooner, but I only found out yesterday right before I met you at the hospital.”
He waved that aside. “It’s fine. I was just surprised. I thought your folks didn’t know about Charles and Chad.”
“They do now. I told my mom.”
“Oh.” Chuck took a moment to process that. “Well, good. Now I won’t have to watch what I say to her on the phone. When will they be here?”
“Tomorrow evening. She didn’t say exactly what time, but she knows I work. Charles already promised me he’d be home on time.”
“I’m glad I…we got the painting done. The house is looking good.”
I knew I had a bemused expression on my face. “You, my husband—one of my three husbands—are about to meet your in-laws for the first time, and your main concern is the house?”
“The house is important. I don’t want your dad to think I can’t look after the place or take care of you.”
“Unbelievable. You’re not nervous?”
“Should I be?” Afterglow or not, he looked far too calm. “I’m sure we’ll all get along fine, and it will be nice to finally meet them.”
Since I wasn’t looking to borrow trouble, I kept my mouth shut.
* * * *
I had finished giving Chuck his haircut and was still sweeping up when I heard the front door open and close. Based on the timing, I knew exactly who it was. Unlike Charles, Chad clocked out at the dot of closing time and arrived soon after that unless he made a stop at the library or picked up a bottle of wine on the way home. I was especially glad for his punctuality tonight. It was high time we cleared the air between us.
I found him downstairs pouring himself a glass of wine in the kitchen. One dark curl of hair hung forward and touched the outer corner of his eyebrow—a rogue he tucked back into place with an elegant sweep of his hand. He must have felt me watching him because he looked up then, and our gazes collided. I walked the rest of the way into the room.
“How’s Chuck?” he asked.
“He’s fine.” I shifted my weight from foot to foot. “He’s still bruised and pretty sore, but he’ll be okay. I even caught him painting the inside of the house when I got home.”
A brief smile flitted across his face. It faded far too soon, and he broke eye contact to stare at the glass in his hand.
I couldn’t take the strain anymore. “Chad, I’m sorry for what I did.”
“I know you are.” He blew out a loud breath. “The thing is, Fila, this isn’t something you can fix with just an apology.”
“No, it isn’t, but you deserve to hear one anyway.” Now that I’d started, I was determined to get this out. “I am so sorry. I should never have lied to everyone about this marriage or desecrated our wedding photo like that. What I did was disrespectful and hurtful not only to you, but to all of us. I let my insecurities get in the way.
“I love you, Chad. I love you and Charles and Chuck equally. Each of you brings something special to this relationship. Would things be easier if there were only one of you? Honestly? Yeah, they probably would. But easier isn’t the same as better. You, Charles, and Chuck enrich my life and make up the greatest parts of it.
“I wouldn’t trade a single one of you for anything. That’s why I finally stopped being a coward and told my family, my coworker, and the neighbor about my marriage to you three. From now on, I’m not going to hide our relationship from anyone. I hope you’ll accept that as a sign I’m trying to be a better wife to you, and maybe you can forgive me.”
As I finished, I took a shaky breath—what felt like the first one I’d drawn during the whole speech.
Chad looked at me now, although he stayed silent for several grueling seconds. His lips assumed a rueful slant. “That was a pretty good apology.”
“I meant every word.”
“That’s what made it so good.” He set down his wineglass and walked closer. “And actions are even better than words. You really told everybody at work?”
“Well, I told Liz. I’m sure she passed it on to everyone else. She says she’s jealous of me because I have three great guys. I can’t say I blame her.”
Chad stopped and studied me. “You say that now, but what about the next time you meet someone new or, worse, run into someone who disapproves?”
“I’ll be proud to introduce my husbands to any new acquaintance. As for disapproval, I may run into that sooner rather than later, but I’ll deal with it. We’ll deal with it.”
He was so slow to take my hand it felt like forever before he touched me. Cool metal caressed the skin of my finger as he played with my wedding ring. “You do realize I want to meet your parents for the same reason Chuck is so anxious for children, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?” I went absolutely still, uncertain where he was going with this.
Chad kept his gaze downcast and kept fiddling with the ring. “We want a family, love. The three of us don’t have parents, or aunts and uncles, or even cousins. Our genealogy—the hodgepodge of donor DNA used to create us—is locked away in Genetic Harmony’s records. We didn’t even have childhoods. Your relatives and the children we may one day create are the only family we’ll ever know.”
“I wish you’d told me sooner.” My heart ached, and his image grew blurry as my eyes teared up. How could I have been so oblivious? “Please forgive me, Chad. Please. You have no idea how much I need you.”
He rested his forehead against mine. “No more secrets? You mean it?”
I nodded and felt him jerk back before I could accidentally head-butt his nose.
“Then I forgive you.”
The underlying tension that had stretched between us since the night of the fight finally lifted, replaced by a giddy wave of relief.
“I don’t like being mad at you,” he confessed. “I love you too much.”
“And I love you.” I wiped my eyes so I could see him clearly again and drew back my shoulders. “There’s one more thing we need to straighten out, though.”
He waited.
Despite all the distractions, I’d had enough time to think about this, and there was still an issue that bothered me. “We’re going to have arguments and hurt each other’s feelings from time to time. That happens when people live together and have so much emotion invested. If I say or do something wrong, then I want you to tell me, and I’ll try to make it right. If we can’t agree, then we’ll compromise. But don’t ever threaten to leave like that again. You’re either committed to this marriage, or you’re not. I need you to talk to me and try to work things out when we have a problem,
not threaten to cut and run at the first sign of trouble. Okay?”
I was close enough to see him flush. Now he was the one who looked guilty.
“You’re right.” The words sounded thick in his throat. “I didn’t mean it. I was mad, and I wanted to strike back at you, but that’s no excuse. Please forgive me.”
He didn’t even have to ask.
“Of course.” I took his face in my hands. “So are we okay now?”
Ah. There was that stunning smile—not a faint, halfhearted one, but the kind that lit up the jade green of his eyes. He shifted his hands to clasp my hips and drew me tight to his body.
“Yes, we are. We’re more than okay.” He added a kiss for emphasis.
The touch of our lips echoed everything we’d said. First, there was the salty tang of regret, followed by the sweetness of reconciliation. Then he pressed closer, and I felt his promise, a renewal of our wedding vows in every shared breath we took. Finally, the twin flames of love and passion ignited and twined through my blood.
I wrapped my arms around him, dug my fingers into the back of his shirt, and held on so there was no way he could slip away from me. Chad’s work attire was more casual than Charles’s. There was no jacket or tie in my way, just dark slacks and a buttoned-up shirt he wore with the sleeves rolled to his elbows. I had to loosen my hold to get at those pesky buttons.
He broke the kiss to reach for the hem of the T-shirt I’d thrown on. “Senza di te la mia vita non ha senso.” Without you, my life makes no sense. “I’m empty without you. You’re my breath, my heartbeat. Sei tutto per me.” You’re my everything.
I had to raise my arms so he could strip my top over my head. Freed from the irritating fabric, I returned the favor by pushing his unbuttoned shirt off his broad shoulders. In an instant, we had our hands all over each other’s skin.
