Christmas Daddies

by Jade West

  “It’s alright, Carrie,” I say, “you can tell us.”

  And she does. She tells us everything.

  She tells us how happy she was to find her brother. She tells us the story of what happened all those years ago in Eli’s family home. She tells us how they thought it was her assaulting their younger daughter and leaving bruises on her arms, but it wasn’t. It was Eli, and that makes sense too. The kid was troubled when I met him, narcissistic to the point it gave me shivers. Thoroughly dissociated from those around him.

  And now he’s studying law, blending into the student populous no doubt oblivious to the pain he caused the broken girl sitting before me.

  He didn’t mention Carrie once in all our sessions. I only saw her name in the family history section of his case file.

  Kevin Baker told Carrie everything she wanted to hear, and I don’t blame her for believing him. A girl who had nothing and no one. The promise of a family she loved and lost coming back to find her.

  I know he was the one who took her before us before she says anything. I can imagine the details before she speaks them, but they break my heart all the same.

  “I thought he loved me,” she breathes, and she’s ashen. A paper doll where there’s usually so much life.

  I look across at Jack and his jaw is gritted. I find myself glad Kevin’s surely heading back into Gloucester by now, because I wouldn’t fancy his chances if Jack caught up with the sack of shit anytime soon.

  It surprises me how willing I’d be to teach the kid a lesson myself.

  “Nobody ever called him Eli,” she whispers. “He said he was using a fake identity, for the drugs.” She shakes her head. “I feel so stupid.”

  “You aren’t stupid,” Jack says. “He’s a cunt and you were vulnerable.”

  He’s hit the nail right on the head there, although I’d probably have phrased it slightly differently.

  “What do I do now?” she asks and her eyes are wide and scared. “He took your money…”

  “Fuck the money,” Jack says. “He hurt you. All that matters now is that he’s never going to do it again. Not ever, Carrie.”

  She nods so slowly. “You thought it was me.”

  “No,” Jack says. “You wanted me to think it was you. If I really thought it was you, I’d have had you over my fucking knee already and given you the fucking belt for it.”

  He smiles, and my heart races and as she smiles too.

  “You wouldn’t have thrown me out?”

  “For the sake of a few bits of furniture and a couple of hundred quid? You’d have to try a bit harder than that, sweetheart.” He sighs. “I caught you on the doorstep, remember? I was pulling you back, not chasing you off.”

  “I thought he loved me,” she says again and brushes a tear away as soon as it falls.

  I place my hand on her knee and squeeze as tight as I dare. “He didn’t,” I tell her. “But we do.”

  I can hardly believe the words that come out of Jack’s mouth next. They don’t sound like him at all. He pulls her into his arms, even though she’s rigid and trembling, and whispers them right into her ear. “You have us now, Carrie, and we’ll always hug you so tight that all your broken pieces will fit back together again. You’ll see.”

  With a lump in my throat, I take the space on the sofa he pulled Carrie from, and I wrap my arms around her from behind, until her trembling stops and her breath is even and her arms wrap around us right back.

  I don’t know if a hug really can fit someone’s broken pieces all back together, but we can try.

  We’ll never, ever stop trying.

  Carrie

  I don’t know how long they hold me there, but I never want to move.

  I’m scared I’ll fall apart without their arms around me. I’m scared I’ll shatter into pieces and never pick them all up again.

  I remember all the times the guy who called himself Eli touched me. I remember all the times he told me that that was what love felt like.

  But love feels nothing like that, and I know it now.

  I want to forget every second I ever spent with him. I want to feel how much I’m loved for real this time.

  I want to feel kind hands on my body. I want to feel kisses that give, not kisses that take.

  I want them. The only two men who’ve ever counted.

  I need to know I’m still theirs and they’re mine, and words aren’t enough.

  Words will never be enough now I know how easily a random guy like Kevin Baker could speak whatever he wanted in my ear.

  I’m still in their arms as I press my lips to Jack’s neck. Michael is still pressed to my back as I reach for him.

  Jack doesn’t respond at first as I kiss my way up to his jawline. He breathes and strokes my hair but doesn’t kiss me.

  “Carrie, you don’t have to,” he begins, but I know.

  I tell him so.

  “Love me,” I whisper and it sounds so hollow. “I need to know you love me. I need to know you still want me. Both of you.”

  “We should call the police,” Jack says, and I know we have to, but it can wait, just a little while. I tell him that, too.

  It’s Michael who gathers my hair into a ponytail and kisses the back of my neck. It’s his lips that replace my frightened shivers with better ones.

  “Whatever you need,” he whispers, and I finally come to know how much these past few weeks have changed all of us.

  There’s a rawness to his words that speak to my soul. A tenderness in his touch that’s outside any guideline he holds himself to at work every day.

  He’s more than his job. He’s more than the lines they make him colour inside.

  “I need you,” I whisper. And I do.

  I do need them.

  I need them both like I need air.

  Jack reaches for my arm and takes my bruised wrist in his hand. He presses it to his mouth as though he can kiss it all away, and maybe he can.

  His tongue feels so good against my tender skin.

  Mike tugs at my hair enough to tip my head back, and his mouth finds mine and kisses deep.

  His fingers slip inside my top and his strokes across my nipples drive me crazy.

  More crazy.

  Jack pulls off his tie and unbuttons his shirt. He kisses my fingers and guides them to his belt, and I help him unbuckle himself, before he helps me out of my jeans.

  Michael tugs my top over my head and pulls my bra off with it. I’m naked in a heartbeat with my legs around Jack’s waist. His cock is big against my belly and it’s a relief.

  To know he still wants me like this is a relief.

  I twist to help Michael out of his suit, but he’s already mostly there. He sits back on the wrecked sofa and guides me half on top of him, and then tugs at Jack’s arm to beckon him closer.

  Jack shuffles next to Michael and I straddle the middle of them. A thigh against each dick as I rise to my knees.

  It’s the most natural thing in the world to present my tits to two hungry mouths. I pull my shoulders back proud, as proud as I’ll ever be, offering myself up exactly as I am to the two men who mean so much.

  I love the way they suck and nip. I love the way the sounds of their mouths match the squelches from their dicks as they take themselves in hand.

  Tonight’s the night I want them both inside me. Tonight’s the night I need to feel them both make me theirs at the same time.

  “Let us see you,” Mike whispers and I don’t understand at first. He stares up at me through hooded eyes and gestures me to stand for them.

  I’m so nervous as I get to my feet. So naked in my vulnerability as I stand tall for two pairs of hungry eyes.

  “Beautiful,” Jack whispers, and picks up pace on his dick.

  “Perfect,” Michael adds and my cheeks burn.

  It’s amazing to watch them there, watching me.

  I shift my thighs apart and dip my fingers between them. I’ve never felt so exposed in my dirtiness as I do right now, standing
all alone as their eyes rove all over me, from the wetness they’ve left on my tits, to the wetness I’m dribbling between my legs.

  But they love me.

  I can see it in their gaze, in their expressions, in the way they work their dicks as though just the sight of me is everything.

  “We’re really doing this,” Michael rasps. “The three of us, forever.”

  It sounds like more of a question than a statement.

  Jack answers it.

  “We’re really doing this,” he says. “The three of us. Always the three of us.”

  A look passes between them that I can’t read, but hope one day I will. A look that reminds me how these guys have known each other their whole entire lives, how they’ve shared decades before I was even born.

  “Just bodies,” Michael rasps, and my breath hitches.

  He lifts his hand from his thigh and hovers it between them, and I can’t breathe, can’t even think.

  “Just fucking bodies,” Jack growls and takes his hand from his dick.

  “Fuck,” I whimper as Michael takes Jack in his hand. My own fingers frantic on my clit as he grips another guy’s dick and works him up and down.

  Jack tips his head back and grunts, and then he does it.

  He really does it.

  He reaches out for Michael’s cock and swears under his breath as he takes it.

  Two men work each other’s dicks as they stare at me. They work each other’s dicks as I play with my needy little clit for them.

  I’ve never been as horny as I feel as they touch each other. I’ve never been so in awe of the way two people can give so much.

  “You’d better get back fucking over here before he makes me shoot my fucking load,” Jack growls, and I do.

  “I want both of you inside me,” I whisper as I clamber back on top. “I want to feel both of you at once. I want you to both love me at once.”

  I spread my legs wide across their laps as fingers push inside and open me up. “You need to be ready,” Jack grunts. “Nice and wet. Stretched ready for two.”

  “Stretch me, then,” I moan, and they do.

  Oh fuck, they do.

  Wet fingers slip back to my asshole and it burns as they push their way inside.

  Three fingers turn to four in my hungry pussy and I groan at the stretch, bouncing up and down to open myself up for more.

  I’m gonna take them. I have to fucking take them.

  It’s all I want.

  “Tight,” Jack growls, “so fucking tight.”

  I hear the noises I’m making and I know they can do it. I know they can open me up enough to take them both.

  “Harder,” I hiss. “Please, I want this.”

  “On his dick,” Jack tells me. “Now.”

  It’s a beautiful pleasure to drop myself onto Michael’s big hard cock. I ride him like a desperate whore, because that’s how I feel inside. Desperate for dick, but only theirs. Desperate to be taken by men who really do want me.

  Men who’d do anything to keep me.

  Jack’s fingers keep ploughing my ass and it hurts, but I don’t care.

  “Relax,” he growls and nips the back of my neck, and I know he’s getting ready. I know he’s really going to do this.

  I hear him spitting. I hear him rubbing it around his dick.

  And then he pushes both me and Michael down flat onto the sofa and pins us underneath him.

  I love how tightly I’m sandwiched. I love how my cheek is tight to Michael’s shoulder as Jack’s big dick presses against my asshole.

  “Both of us at once,” he rasps, and pushes the head inside.

  Oh fuck, the stretch. It burns like white heat.

  “Take us,” Michael whispers in my ear. “Take us like only our good girl can.”

  “I’ll be your good girl,” I whimper as Jack pushes deeper. “I’ll always be your good girl.”

  And I am a good girl as Jack slams home. I’m a good girl as I grit my teeth and beg for more. A good girl as I push back onto Jack’s big dick and milk them both at once.

  “I want you to come inside me,” I tell them. “I want you both to fill me up.”

  “We’ll fill you up with more than our fucking cum if you’re not careful,” Jack barks, and the thought sends me over the edge.

  I come between two dicks. I come between two men I love.

  And they’re right there after me, grunting and thrusting and spurting inside me.

  They keep me pinned when they’re done. I love the warmth and the weight as we all catch our breath together.

  And finally, when we’ve gathered up our clothes and wiped down the mess we left on the wrecked sofa, Jack calls the police.

  It’s the first time they’ve ever really listened to me.

  But then again, it’s the first time I’ve ever really told them the truth.

  Epilogue

  Jack

  It took me a few days before I sat Carrie and Michael down and talked them through my great new vision for the future.

  I waited until the police visits stopped with such frequency and all Carrie’s statements were taken. I didn’t take the file out of my car until we heard that Kevin Baker was in custody and the evidence was stacking up nicely.

  Fingerprints, text messages, a load of druggy mates who sold him out at the first sign of a police car at the door.

  He’s going down for it, that’s a certainty. He’d better hope it’s a long sentence – I’ll still be tempted to choke the life out of him if he’s ever unlucky enough to cross my path.

  So, there we had it. An arrest, a new furniture delivery and Michael’s official acceptance of his resignation, all in one day.

  It that’s not a good day to make life plans, I don’t know when else would be.

  They’d been nervous as I sat them down at the new dining table. Glancing at each other as I cleared my throat and flipped open the file.

  A charity initiative, right here on our property. Goats and sheep and chickens galore, even a couple of ponies, if Carrie wants them.

  An opportunity for disadvantaged youngsters to find connection in the land. To be given responsibility and trust in an environment where they can express themselves.

  “You mean a farm?!” Carrie asked. “A real farm?!”

  “A real farm,” I said. “And no stupid tick boxes or budget restrictions,” I’d said to Michael. “Just you two and the outdoors with whoever you feel can benefit from it.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Michael told me as he eyed up my initial proposals.

  “Yes would be nice,” I replied. “Yes, and when can we get started?”

  “When can we get started?” he asked, and I smiled.

  Oh, how I smiled.

  And then I got the two Labrador pups from the crate in my car.

  Carrie’s face was a picture I’ll remember forever, hugging them like they were the greatest treasure on earth.

  “Now,” I said. “We get started now, so you’d better get busy on that chicken coop, Carrie. The poultry auction is next week, and the sheep are arriving two days after Michael’s finishing date.”

  “Fuck,” Michael said as a smile spread across his face.

  And Carrie didn’t say anything other than a whole load of thank yous muffled by puppy fur.

  It was more than enough for me.

  Carrie

  The farm completes me in ways I never knew I could be completed. Helping others going through similar to the things I went through growing up makes my heart burst every day.

  Michael’s too.

  He’s good at this stuff, much better than he was ever allowed to be in the office on someone else’s payroll.

  My pups are older now, and our furniture is finally safe from puppy teeth. Our chickens are laying nicely and our sheep are on a decent rotation through our fields.

  It’s easy work when you have so many people to help you, and we have a lot. More of them turning up each month.

  I finally have
a wagon in the field behind the house, and a couple of gypsy cobs to pull it if I ever needed to go anywhere. But I don’t. I have everything right here.

  Well, almost everything.

  We’ve been watching my cycle, Jack, Michael and me. Timing our dates so they can come inside me without any risk of additional family members on the way before we’re ready.

  But I’m ready now.

  It turns out I have more than enough love for Jack, Michael, two pups, a herd of sheep, ten chickens, two ponies and the random collection of kids who need our help.

  I know I’ve more than enough love for some of our own, too.

  And that’s what I want next.

  A baby of our own.

  It’s Jack who broaches the subject as he sees me flipping through the wall chart and marking out another month right on schedule.

  He slaps Michael on the back as he hands out our evening beers from the fridge, and then he comes right out with it, typical Jack style.

  “I think it’s about time we put a baby in that pretty little girl of ours.”

  I feel the blush on my cheeks before I’ve even turned to face him.

  “What?” I ask and he tips his head.

  “You heard me. Pregnant would be a good look on you. It’s not as though we haven’t got the room.”

  I’m almost touching twenty, but they’re not getting any younger. I can’t hide the smile as I nod my head.

  “I think I’d like pregnant.” I take a breath. “I think I’d like pregnant a lot.”

  Michael is the last to speak. He’s always so considered.

  “I’m ready whenever you guys are,” he says. “I’ve been ready since the day we met.”

  So have I. I just didn’t know it then.

  I’ve thought about the question of paternity a lot these past few months, and in truth I don’t care at all whose baby I have first. I’m planning on having so many of them that I’m sure it’ll even out one way or another.

  There’s more than enough love in this house for all of them.

  “Three days,” I say. “The calendar says three days until I’m ovulating.”