Chapter 1: Octadic
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, BiSexual, Heterosexual, True Story, Incest, Sister, BDSM, DomSub, MaleDom, Spanking, Rough, Light Bond, Group Sex, Orgy, Polygamy/Polyamory, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Pregnancy, Voyeurism, .
Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Octadic - The fifth installment of the "Island Fever" saga picks up with Jeremy and his normal, daily routine of having to keep six (and soon to be seven) wives content and happy. Sounds like an idyllic life for any man, but what happens when trouble begins to brew in paradise?
-- Wednesday, March 2, 2016 --
-- Sandvika, Norway --
"It's hard for me to do anything right now because all I really want to do is just eat some ice cream."
"There's nothing wrong with that," I told Scarlett, already having stood up from the small table for two in our kitchen and then motioning toward the freezer with my head. "Any particular flavor you prefer at the moment?"
Scarlett exhaled sharply, momentarily blowing the strands of yellow, sunrise-gold hair upon her forehead skyward. She seemed to ponder my question for an instant or two. "Didn't Amy make some krokan the other night? If there's any left, I'll have that."
Wanting to appease my fiancee, whom I was going to marry just ten short days from now, I hurried over to the nearby freezer and found a plastic tub full of tempting, ooey-gooey krokan inside. Four egg yolks mixed with sugar, milk, vanilla ice cream, butter, almonds, hazelnuts and snøfrisk (Norwegian spreadable goat cheese), krokan was absolutely delicious! Due to the fact I had become so very accustomed to this homemade delight over the past several months, it would now be impossible for me to ever go back to any store bought ice cream. Amy, one of my six beloved brides, made a fresh batch for our family about once every two weeks.
"Thank you, Jeremy," Scarlett smiled, nodding once, when I returned and offered her a small bowl of the Scandinavian ice cream. She took a single bite, then groaned in pleasure and raised her spoon at me in punctuation. "Hmmmmm ... krokan."
Grinning myself, I took a seat at the table across from Scarlett and studied her. A truly radiant, beautiful woman, Scarlett's hair was down and fell just past her shoulders in those fruity layers from the shampoo commercials. Her denim jeans had a singular rip across her front thigh, clearly by design, and her orange top had similar rips perpendicular from the shoulder seam. The effect was the briefest, most fleeting glimpse of luscious skin underneath.
It was complete look that most women, no doubt, could not pull off, but Scarlett had it down pat. But what made it even more impressive was the simple fact that Scarlett was eight months pregnant. She was due to give birth to our son, Dylan Thomas, on April 6, 2016. With our wedding right around the corner as well, the next couple of weeks promised to be quite hectic for both of us. But we were more than prepared. After all, I was an old pro at this sort of thing by now.
"I trust that the doctor visit went well this morning?" Scarlett asked, now dabbing at her ice cream dessert with the spoon. "Lindsay and her baby check out okay?"
"Oh yes, everything was fine," I answered, referring to the two week post-birth appointment for my youngest bride and child, Lindsay and Kaylee, respectively. Three days prior to Kaylee's arrival, Trish - yet another wife of mine - gave birth to a happy and bouncing baby boy, Jackson. Trish and Lindsay had been floating on cloud nine ever since. I seriously wondered if either of them would ever come down.
"What tests did the doctor perform today at Kaylee's check-up? PKU, T4, galactosemia, thalassemia screening?"
"All of that, and a whole bunch more," I replied. Scarlett was employed as a labor and delivery nurse at the university hospital in Oslo, so medical terms such as those were second nature to her. Still, she always seemed fascinated whenever the opportunity was there for her to discuss them. Scarlett loved her job, but was on maternity leave at the moment. Any medical talk nowadays, and she was suddenly all ears.
"So Mister Jeremy, what is on your agenda for the rest of the afternoon and the evening?"
I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't know. This may or may not seem like a great secret, but I was kind of leaning toward spending the rest of the day with you."
"Awwwww, that's so sweet," Scarlett swooned, batting her thick eyelashes for emphasis. "But it is surely no secret. I pretty much knew that already."
"I never was any good at keeping secrets anyway."
Scarlett winced and it was adorable. "That's okay. I suck at yoga. You should see my tree pose."
Scarlett held up her hand as if she was ready to swear on the Holy Bible. "On my honor. I failed miserably at downward dog; was expelled from the class two years ago when I pointed out that the instructor just wanted to check out my ass."
I chuckled. "Can you blame him?"
Scarlett took another bite of krokan, yet looked at me with an amused glint in her eyes. "I knew you'd say that. Ughhhhh ... you are such a man, Jeremy."
There was a stretch of silence between us. But it was the most comfortable type of silence, which was kind of nice. I decided to enjoy it, as well as the remainder of my orange juice drink. I was feeling very relaxed and stress-free. I sat back in my chair and traced the rim of my glass with a single fingertip. "So how are you feeling today?"
"I feel perfect," Scarlett chirped, reaching down with both hands and patting her massive baby bump. "With our wedding just over a week away, I think, I am on such a high right now that nothing could bring me down. I am not going to let any pregnancy aches and pains get to me."
"I wish some of the other girls in our relationship had that sort of mindset when they were eight months pregnant."
"Oh, I'm sure you do," Scarlett giggled. "Would have made things much easier on you as the faithful, doting husband."
"I get to be YOUR husband in just ten days," I smirked. I was counting down the days, the hours, even the minutes, within my mind. I simply could not wait to marry Scarlett!
"Oh yes," she nodded. "Sometimes I wonder, though. I will be wife number seven for you, yet you are still married to the first six. Somehow, that just does not make sense."
"I think it makes our relationship - yours and mine - and our upcoming wedding all the more dramatic, don't you?"
Scarlett thought on this. "Well, I can't say that I ever really envisioned a relationship for myself like the one I'm in now." She bit her lower lip in a manner that, for a moment, had me absolutely transfixed. "You're just my first wedding too, Jeremy. I have six more to go through with the other girls before our family is finally complete. Maybe more than six, yes? First up will be Kristanna, after the two babies are born. Then I get to marry Devon after that!"
"You're going to be a busy little gal this year, huh?"
"Life is good," Scarlett mused. "I love my job. I love our family. I am engaged to the most wonderful man in the whole, wide world. I live with a group of the sweetest, most precious women alive, and our house is like a nursery with five screaming babies - and two more due next month - because every time you go so far as to even LOOK at one of us, Jeremy, you get us pregnant. Or so it seems, at least." Her words made me chuckle as she ended, "Plus, we have krokan in our freezer, which is a mega bonus."
"You and your crazy Norwegian food."
"Krokan is the BEST," she insisted.
I always found myself truly captivated whenever I had the opportunity to speak with Scarlett. She had an effervescence about her which was contagious. I met her gaze from across the small, circular table and my stomach fluttered a tad. I nearly melted into her alluring, Eden-green eyes. The sight of those puffy lips parting into a bigger smile felt like an electric current was running throughout my heart.
"I like talking to you."
Scarlett nodded. "I know." Then her eyes widened and she actually bopped herself in the head. It was pretty cute. "No. God. That came out so wrong. I mean, I enjoy your company too, Jeremy." She sighed in frustration. "I'm a total dork sometimes. But you already know that."
"If you say so."
Scarlett snagged a cracker and took her time eating it, as if it were way too important to rush. The play-out was quite endearing to watch; each tiny bite seemed like a precious find. She glanced up and caught me watching her, which prompted her to break out into a far-reaching grin. "Stop staring at me!"
But would that be possible? Could I actually stop staring at Scarlett? To me, there was nothing more desirable than a pregnant woman. Scarlett was gorgeous and exquisite, and her current form portrayed womanhood at its absolute zenith - the ability to create a new life within her very own body. It was a miraculous thing that was nothing short of breathtaking. The glow and aura that an expectant mother exuded was perhaps one of God's finest creations.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because you're intoxicating," was my honest answer.
Scarlett placed her elbow upon the table and propped her chin up with her hand. "I just love how much of a softie you are, Jeremy. You want everyone to think that you are tough, but you're really nothing more than a complete romantic. A hopeless romantic, that is. All the way."
"Wait a minute." I was shaking my head repeatedly. "Hold up, right there! Did you just call me ... a softie?"
"Yes," Scarlett nodded resolutely. "Yes, I did."
I looked skyward in jest. "I am NOT a softie."
We laughed in unison, then the room fell silent once again. I was having such a wonderful time. Soon, I got the sense that Scarlett was finished with her krokan, the delicious ice cream treat. This gave me an idea.
"Let's go to the next room and sit down for awhile on the sofa," was my suggestion. "Have you relax."
Scarlett seemed intrigued. "In your lap, I hope?"
"That can be arranged."
Scarlett was grinning as I led her by the hand into the adjacent central room. I took a seat on the big sofa, then helped ease her into a comfortable position all nice and snug upon my lap. She was pregnant, so I had to be gentle. Extremely gentle. Of course, I kept a hand upon her stomach.
Scarlett was eyeing an apple on the fruit tray next to the sofa, so I snatched it and promptly gave it to her. I did not say a word as I watched her take a bite out of the apple. It a great visual, and strangely appealing to me.
"Did I tell you the big news?"
Scarlett perked up. "Oh, I love big news. Let's hear it."
I smiled at her. "You and I are getting married in just ten short days!"
"NO WAY!" Scarlett exclaimed, feigning astonishment. "That is wonderful, earth-shattering news! It's more than wonderful! It's ... come here." Again, we laughed together as Scarlett wrapped her arms around me for a loving embrace. "Oh, Jeremy ... you're the best!"
I pulled back far enough so I could gaze back at her face. "Thank you for coming into my life - our lives - the way you did back in the summer of 2014."
Scarlett's eyes dropped to my mouth. She moved in slowly, gently, just a mere whisper away from my own lips. "You know something, Jeremy? The day I met you and Kristanna, and Devon, at the hospital when Kaden was born? I was not even supposed to work that day. They called me in at the last moment."
"I'm glad they did."
Scarlett frowned momentarily. "I almost did not answer my telephone when I saw it was the hospital. I was so not looking forward to going into work that day." She pouted yet again. "I guess we came that close to never meeting, huh?"
I claimed Scarlett's mouth in a luscious, probing kiss. It was soft and sensuous at first, but ever deepening. I ran my hands from her shoulders to her arms, and intertwined our fingers. Eventually we broke apart, and I was amazed at the snap, crackle and pop of the aura surrounding us. It was electric, scintillating; it nearly took my breath away.
"Everything happens for a reason," I told her.
Scarlett snagged another bite of the apple; I marveled at way she delicately licked its juice from her fingertips.
"You give really good apple."
Scarlett broke out into a bright, massive smile; the same type of smile that only made me want to kiss her some more. Only because I felt compelled to, I reached out and swept the stray hair away from Scarlett's forehead. Then I sighed, drowning myself in those lambent, jade-green eyes of hers. Scarlett poked me in the side, breaking the trance.
"Hey!" I complained, albeit playfully. "I'm not going to marry you if you're going to do things like that to me." I rubbed my side and chided her, "That hurt!"
"Oh sure, it did!"
Turning serious, Scarlett clenched my hand a bit tighter and mused, "I have so many great people in my life right now, but everything begins and ends with you."
"Oh?" I countered. "Why is that?"
"Because of who you are, Jeremy. Your kindness. Your warmth. It may sound like an old cliche, but you're the heart and soul of our family. You have made such a huge impact in all of our lives - mine, Krissy's, Pamela's. Devon, Trish, Lindsay, Amy. The way you take time with everyone and make us feel so incredibly special. It goes a long way, and it definitely gets noticed. Trust me, it does. Every single time I talk to you, Jeremy, or am simply around you, my day becomes just a little bit brighter. I, for one, happen to think that is a pretty amazing thing. And I assure you that all of the other girls would tell you the same, exact thing."
Hearing what Scarlett thought of me, that the extra effort I tried to put forth each day mattered, moved something powerful in me. I took a moment to allow her words to settle. "Thank you. But I don't quite know what to say after that."
Scarlett tilted her head to the side and bit her bottom lip in a move that I found wildly mesmerizing and attractive. "Don't say anything. Just know that it's true." My eyes wide, Scarlett soon broke out into a grin and added, "Now go into the kitchen and bring my krokan back to me."
"I thought you were finished with it?"
"One is never truly finished with their krokan until it is completely gone," the 31-year-old told me in a philosophical tone. "Now, bring me the rest of my dessert please." She giggled and added, "I'm pregnant, and I'm hungry."
A moment later, I made my way back from the kitchen and watched in amusement as Scarlett took five healthy bites of krokan from the bowl. My fiancee was temporarily transfixed. To her, it was most definitely heaven on a spoon.
"Sorry," she then told me, acting coy. "We were bonding."
"You and the krokan? Bonding?"
"Right. Krokan bonding. It's a thing."
I grinned at her. "You really love that stuff."
"I would lay down my life for krokan."
"Wow. What an endorsement. If Amy ever decides to mass produce and go into business, we will have to put that quote on the carton. I would lay down my life for krokan."
"With my picture please."
"Well, we definitely don't want my picture on the carton," I playfully told her. "Wouldn't sell a single one."
"Shut up!" Scarlett giggled.
"Hey guys!" came a squealy yet friendly, all-too-familiar voice from behind us. I immediately knew who it belonged to. I turned toward the doorway to see its source. "What is up?"
From the top of her silky blonde hair that fell in tousled disarray around her head to the tight jeans hugging her trim waistline, then molding her sexy, feminine curves and sleek, slender legs, Devon was sexy with a capital S. If you added the delicate, purely angelic features of her face and the allure of those amazing blue eyes, this 30-year-old from the great state of Pennsylvania exuded light, elegance and beauty all at the same time. Devon was yet another of my wives.
"Hi baby," Scarlett smiled at her in return.
"Hey," was my simple greeting.
Devon took a deep breath and exhaled, then strolled over to us with a wide, far-ranging smile upon her face. She promptly leaned over and hugged Scarlett to her, even kissing her flush on the lips in the process. Devon then patted that baby bump and wondered, "You feeling okay today, honey?"
"I feel fine," Scarlett insisted with her very own smile.
"Jeremy..." Devon purred, momentarily slipping her arms around me and pressing the side of her face upon my chest. When I kissed the very crown of her head, Devon broke away and sat down on the sofa next to Scarlett, one leg folded beneath her. She then grasped hands with Scarlett and the two ladies giggled like young schoolgirls.
"You look great," Devon told Scarlett, absently plucking at the hem of the orange top she wore. As per our family routine, always be nice and complimentary (yet much more importantly, honest) toward the pregnant wife (or fiancee). Shower her with love, affection and positive reinforcement. Devon knew this just as well as I did.
Devon looked up at me and made an uncomfortable face, then rubbed her arms quite theatrically. "Brrrrr! It's cold. Do you think you could rustle me up a blanket, Jeremy? Please?"
I noticed goosebumps popping out over Devon's skin when, mere seconds later, I draped the heavy quilt from the nearby love seat over top of her, up to her neck. With Scarlett underneath the quilt as well, the pair of ladies were suddenly more content and comfortable than ever, cuddling together like two newborn puppies. What a beautiful sight to see...
"Better?" I inquired, already knowing the answer.
"Hmmmmm," Devon simply hummed in response.
My heart nearly melted when I watched Scarlett leisurely plant the side of her face upon Devon's shoulder. Oh, this mansion was special. Our family was special. There was so much love, so much togetherness, so much caring. I was part of perhaps the most unique family in the whole, wide world. All of us loved each other, yet there was no jealousy or hidden animosity anywhere to be found. We did not allow it.
Devon maneuvered her right hand out from underneath the quilt, then reached over and copped a long, thorough feel of Scarlett's breasts. The move was so blatant and obvious, I was certain Devon did it more for my benefit than her own. Her blue eyes stayed on me during the entire process, a look that suggested that Devon sought Scarlett and yours truly out today not necessarily to talk, but to engage in some more ... extracurricular activities. Hey, I was not going to complain.
But just like that, a conversation broke out. Go figure.
"Have you been outside recently today, Devon?" Scarlett asked. "What's it like? Still frigid?"
"It's not bad," Devon answered. "A little cold, you know, but nothing too serious. Feels good to me, actually. I heard the temperature is supposed to drop overnight, though, and we may actually get a few inches of snow. Strange, huh?" Devon then glanced my way. "Is Lindsay still tired?"
"She had a bad night with Kaylee, I am told, and Trish had an equally bad and long night with Jackson," I frowned. "Both babies were up and screaming for three or four hours. Which, you know, I am not happy about because neither Trish or Lindsay woke me up and let me know there were any issues."
"They wanted to let you sleep," Devon offered. "We have five babies in our family right now, and two more on the way with Scarlett due next month, as well as Kristanna. The five we have, their mothers are so busy tending to and taking care of them. It is a lot of work for them. But I think everyone knows, Jeremy, that no one has more on their plate than you. You are the father of five, not the mother of one, like the others. Soon, it will be seven." Devon nodded her head and reiterated, "Trish and Lindsay didn't wake you last night when Jackson and Kaylee were upset because they wanted to let you have a quiet reprieve and get a peaceful rest."
I took a step forward and pointed toward Devon's abdomen. "So, when will I finally get you pregnant? You're the only wife who hasn't given birth yet. We need to change that." Scarlett chuckled at my words, as did Devon.
"Oh, I don't know. I'm kind of enjoying my role in the family right now as it is. I'm the nanny! I will watch and look after any baby, whether it be one, two, three, four or all five, to give you and the other girls a break. I can watch Kaden, for example, so you and Kristanna can go out and have a romantic night together, Jeremy. Or I can watch Piper so you can spend some alone time with Pamela. I kept an eye on Jackson and Kaylee just last night so Trish and Lindsay could take a romantic walk around the farm."
"So your availability as the nanny would go down quite significantly if you had a child of your own," I surmised.
"But that belly of yours would look so incredibly perfect blown up like a balloon, with a baby inside."
Devon shot me a look. "You and your pregnancy fetishes! If it was up to you, Jeremy, every single one of us would be nine months pregnant for the absolute rest of our lives! Oh my God, you would be in Heaven, wouldn't you?"
"You know he would!" Scarlett giggled.
"Six months," I corrected them. "That seems to be a good number. The glow is brightest then, and it seems around that time is when there are the fewest aches and pains. All of the others were happiest and most lively around six months."
"Hmmmmm ... well it's good you're looking out for our well being, I suppose." Devon glanced at me for several seconds, then broke out into a laugh. "You want to get me pregnant, don't you? Don't you, Jeremy?"
"The thought has crossed my mind once, or a million times."
"What about what I want? I like being the nanny."
"You don't get a vote."
Devon laughed again. "Oh really? I don't get a vote, huh?" She tilted her head to the side and gave me a playful stare. "I'll have you know that I won most valuable voter while still in high school."
"You did not. There is no such thing."
"Yes, there is!"
"Everyone certainly appreciates what a great help you have been to us," I reminded Devon. "It's just ... I know how much you want to be a mother yourself, sweetheart. You're gonna turn 31 at the end of the month. Don't feel compelled to hold off on your own dreams in exchange so Krissy, Pamela, Amy ... whomever, can have a few hour, guilt-free reprieve from watching their child. Or even me. There will still be plenty of time for everyone to take a break and catch their breath with the way our family is set up, and structured."
"It's just easiest for me to do it, though," Devon said. "I don't have the responsibility of my own child. I don't mind waiting another year or two before things settle down. I don't mind waiting three, four, even five years. I just want to do what works best for our family."
"You are an awesome girl. You know that, right?"
"I have to find a way to live up to awesome."
"That's one thing I really love about Devon," Scarlett mused, moving her head close to her and then touching cheeks in a display of affection. "She is all about our family. Devon always looks to do what is best for our family."
When Devon held out her right hand, Scarlett allowed herself to be pulled into her lap. Devon placed a simple kiss beneath Scarlett's left ear and smiled sweetly at her. Of course, they were still underneath the heavy quilt.
"What?" Devon asked, noticing her stare. "You look like you're in a world of your own all of a sudden."
Scarlett nodded slowly, gently, knowingly; the smile never once leaving her face. "Kinda am."
"You want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours? Because whatever it is, it looks awfully fun."
"Just happy," Scarlett simply stated, gazing at Devon, before focusing on me for a few memorable seconds. Beaming, she rubbed her baby bump and fiddled with the engagement ring upon her finger. Scarlett then turned her attention back to Devon and concluded, "Happier than I have any right to be."
Devon shrugged the quilt away, perhaps so I could see what was happening, and slipped both arms around Scarlett from the side. Instinctively, Scarlett brought a single finger up and traced the outline of Devon's cheek with it. She then laid claim to Devon's mouth with a deep and passionate kiss. Her tongue entered her, filled her, and the dual passion shared amongst them quickly escalated into raw, passionate need.
Devon's oversized t-shirt was twisted and stretched tightly over her overflowing breasts. Scarlett caressed and kneaded the delicate flesh, through the fabric itself and the white bra she wore underneath, with her right hand. Her mouth then descended lower and she extended her tongue, licking and swiping away at an exposed portion of Devon's ample cleavage.
Scarlett then attached her mouth to a breast, sucking it through the thin barrier of the cotton top and bra. Devon drew breath deep into her lungs, her chest swelling under the expert, oral care. Scarlett moved her mouth to the opposite breast and gave it the same treatment.
Scarlett's lips returned to Devon's mouth, hungry, wanting, full of need. She then slid a hand down her belly, not pausing until she was cupping the sensitive cleft between Devon's thighs through the denim jeans that she still had on. "Open your legs for me, honey," she instructed, her voice raw and full of sheer desire. "Do it."
Devon's entire body tensed and arched upon the sofa in pure satisfaction as she raised one leg, allowing Scarlett further access. The breathing between both ladies became quite ragged and intense as Devon's arms encircled Scarlett's slender neck and shoulders, holding her close, kissing her madly.
Mentally, I was already on fire and close to losing it if I did not get to experience some of this erotic action myself. I clutched at my own neck and cleared my throat, twirling my head about, and wiped my brow with a forearm.
"Oh, look at poor Jeremy," Scarlett pouted. It was a damn sexy pout, not to mention an exaggerated one. "Looks like he is getting all hot and bothered over there."
"I know what to do to take care of that!" Devon squealed, dropping down to her knees and positioning herself just in front of me. She deftly dropped my slacks, then reached into my boxer shorts and eventually pulled out my half-hard shaft. Those alluring, constellation-blue eyes of Devon's danced and flashed with erotic mischief as then she used her right hand to coax and stroke my cock toward a full, raging erection.
Devon reached behind her with her opposite hand and helped steady Scarlett as she too, dropped down to the floor on her knees. Scarlett scooted forward slowly, then sat down next to Devon with both legs folded beneath her. She clutched at her stomach, as if the baby had just kicked inside of her, but then smiled brightly. Yes, the baby made a movement.
Devon moved both hands to my inner thighs and applied a bit of pressure, indicating that she wanted me to spread them apart. When I did, she rewarded me with a cool breath of air that was blown and swished over my aching erection. My entire body flinched when, from the side, Scarlett snaked her head forward and offered the underside of my cock a full, sweeping lick with her tongue.
Devon playfully glared at her counterpart. "Invading on my territory, eh? Stealing my spotlight?"
Scarlett was all smiles. "We can share it."
"Yes, share it!" I exclaimed. What a wonderful idea!
Devon looked up at me and made a face, then giggled. "Oh, no one asked you, Jeremy."
Scarlett became the aggressor as she twirled the tip of her tongue all over the head of my cock, saturating it in her own saliva. My head snapped back and I growled out in passion as she then took half of my length into her mouth. And thus, the sweet, exquisite torture began.
Scarlett's green eyes were locked upon my face as she began to suck and swallow me at her own leisure. The 31-year-old had a diva's nose perched atop her blushing, raspberry-red lips, which formed a confined circle around my pulsating member as she bobbed her head back-and-forth. I closed my own eyes and sighed as waves of tingling pleasure washed all around me.
Scarlett suddenly changed her tactic; each time her head bobbed forward, she took more and more of my hard cock into her wet delight of a mouth. Once Scarlett had taken me to where my shaft was lodged against the very back of her mouth, she paused for a moment, then took a big gulp and worked me into the unbelievable tightness of her throat. She twisted her head about frantically while working my shaft even deeper into her throat. Eventually, Scarlett froze at the base of my erection, her lips nuzzled upon my pubic hair, allowing me to savor the feeling of being completely swallowed.
Then, with a tiny grunt, Scarlett began to nudge my cock outward until it was free of the grasping ring of her throat and back onto the wriggling heaven of her fiery tongue as she withdrew its entire length from her mouth. I could feel her saliva drooling over my cock in long, thick ropes, which she sucked up with hungry, slurping noises.
Again and again, Scarlett swallowed me whole, then pulled it all the way out. The pleasure was simply exhilarating! Watching her nearly gag and choke on it with each downward stroke simply made it all the more exciting.
Scarlett's quick gasps for air between each intake were frantic and incredibly thrilling to hear. To allow Scarlett a bit more breathing time, Devon eventually snaked forward and planted a series of butterfly kisses upon my testicles, then fluttered her tongue up and down my length from the side. But when Scarlett was ready for more, Devon relented.
In one long, easy swoop, Scarlett took me all the way down her throat again. This time, however, she tried something new. With my erection completely buried, she began to hum.
"Oh my God!" I growled, my hips jerking forward in a hard, involuntary motion. Scarlett twisted her head from side to side, wildly corkscrewing me around in her mouth and throat, while still humming. It sent my entire body spiraling out of control. "Scarlett, I'm going to cum!"
"Don't you dare swallow it!" Devon warned her, suddenly very loud and screechy. "Save some for me!"
My body spasmed and contracted as I now held Scarlett's blonde head in place, pumping my release into the luscious confines of her mouth. Lost in an ocean of sheer ecstasy, my blood boiling, sperm simply gushed out of me. I grunted and roared like an animal, jamming my cock as far it would go one final time, before my body began to ease and relax. I felt lightheaded, and collapsed onto the sofa behind me.
Still, Scarlett had her lips pursed tight over the very tip of my shaft. She smiled up at me while coaxing every last ounce of sperm from my cock. There was a heavy dollop of it on her face, which soon trickled down to her neck. Devon scooped it up with her tongue and swallowed it easily.
"What happened to sharing?" Devon whined at Scarlett, but being playful about it. Again, there was no jealousy in our relationship. "You hogged his big cock all for yourself. Well, two can play that game. Gimme that mouthful!"
I watched, absolutely spellbound, as the two lovely ladies entwined their mouths together as one for a kiss. When their lips parted and their tongues touched, a heavy cascade of my thick, white cream slid out of Scarlett's mouth and directly into Devon's. They became totally lost in the kiss, oblivious to anything else, their hands rising to meet the others' waist, their large breasts squished together and heaving. In the process, Devon's throat rippled and she shuddered as the gooey goodness was easily swallowed down and enjoyed.
Finally, when it was over, the two ladies broke the kiss and slid their faces around until they were looking up at me, their arms now snug and tight around each others' back. Scarlett smiled devilishly as I felt a mixture of love and lust swell forth within me. She broke into an even bigger grin and purred, "Jeremy, I want you to fuck Devon for me."
Devon giggled and turned to look at Scarlett. "What if I want to watch Jeremy fuck you instead?"
"Oh no, you're getting it today," Scarlett retorted, her tone all deep and serious. She gathered the lower portion of Devon's t-shirt with both hands, then yanked it upward and pulled it over her head, and off. Scarlett grinned and batted her long eyelashes as she took in the wondrous sight of Devon in her lacey white bra, but then turned to me. "Can we just have Devon as our lone wedding present next week?"
"That would be nice," I offered, contemplating the idea.
Scarlett's hands were groping away at Devon - specifically, her breasts. She cupped and squeezed the exquisite mounds through the bra, but then discarded it. Devon was now topless as Scarlett swooned, "Oooooh, you feel so good!"
"So do you, baby," Devon returned, one hand caressing her baby bump and the other her ass. "Oh, so do you."
"We need to get you out of these clothes," Scarlett said to Devon, unbuttoning her denim jeans and trying to peel them downward. "I want Jeremy to get his cock inside of you."
A whimper of delight escaped from within my throat as I watched both ladies move together and share yet another hot, steaming kiss. Their tongues flashed in and out, their lips working fast and furiously. Devon gently pulled Scarlett to the floor with both arms so she was laying flat upon it. She straddled Scarlett's chest, her knees planted on either side, never once letting their lips break apart.
Eventually, Devon slid her mouth to Scarlett's neck and began to nibble and kiss away upon it. Scarlett's green eyes fixated on me and held steady until the pleasure made her moan and twirl her head about. In return, Scarlett attached her lips to Devon's right breast and took its nipple into her mouth. Devon tossed her head back and stole a glance of me.
"I cannot wait to see Scar-Scar in her wedding gown," was Devon's comment for me. "Speaking of your upcoming wedding, you know. Scar-Scar is going to look doubly radiant too, because she is so very close to giving birth." Devon then focused upon Scarlett, saying, "I love you."
"I love you, too," Scarlett reciprocated, mashing her lips to Devon's for a kiss. "And I love you as well, Jeremy." She smiled sweetly at me. "And yes, I still want you to fuck Devon for me. Whatever you do, though, don't wear yourself out, Jeremy. The other girls may get angry at us."
I chuckled. "Got it."
Scarlett's right hand slipped between their pressed bodies and snuck into the elastic band of Devon's G-string panties. I watched the tight fabric mold and conform against the back of her hand, then three fingers spread outward and her middle one traced upon and down Devon's sweet, tender pussy.
"Oh Scarlett!" Devon breathed out.
"You're soaking wet!" Scarlett teasingly admonished her. "Did watching me deep-throat Jeremy turn you on?" When Devon nodded her head, Scarlett pressed forward. "Oh, you feel so hot and slippery." She was stroking her pussy now with a trio of fingers. "Tight and slippery! Just how Jeremy likes 'em! He's going to love fucking you, Devon. He's going to jam his big cock in this tight, wet, slippery pussy, and make you cum and cum and cum and cum some more. He's going to fuck your pussy, then fuck your mouth so you can taste your own pussy." Scarlett nodded knowingly. "And you know what else, Devon? DEVVY? You know what else? I'm going to help him."
I moaned and shifted about uncomfortably upon the sofa, my cock hard once again and throbbing so much it hurt. Good God, Scarlett was rarely this verbal and aggressive during sex! What had gotten into her? She must be really turned on!
Scarlett pushed at Devon until she was no longer astride her chest. Both of them quickly discarded her denim jeans, which had been at mid-thigh, and then off came the G-string. Devon's D-cup breasts, which looked otherworldly on her small, 105 pound frame, bounced and jiggled as Scarlett positioned her so she was flat on her back.
Suddenly, that beautiful, delicate pussy was facing me directly, its clitoris all pink and swollen with arousal, glistening with juices of desire. I had such a good view.
"Do you want to put your cock in there, Jeremy?"
"Yes," I told Scarlett. "God, yes!"
"Then do it! Fuck her!"
In a heartbeat, I was kneeling on the floor and between Devon's widespread thighs. Scarlett grasped my cock with her right hand and guided it toward those hot nether lips while, at the same time, Devon locked eyes with me and smiled. I leaned over for a quick kiss, then lowered and eased my shaft into her pussy, its wetness engulfing me. And dear Lord, was Devon tight! Incredibly tight!
"Go slow at first," was her only request.
"Okay," I agreed, as Scarlett rubbed and caressed my shoulder blades from off to the side.
Devon began to moan and squeal, albeit softly, when I was pumping my hips at a languid pace just seconds later. Her lovely, enchanting face was alive with bliss, her blue eyes glazed over with wanton lust. I leaned over and kissed and nibbled away upon one of her ears. Meanwhile, Scarlett gave the opposite ear the same treatment. I sank back in fully, completely, forging my way to the hilt.
"Fuck her harder, Jeremy!" Scarlett encouraged me. "Pump that pussy like you want to get her pregnant!"
My eyes wide, something inside of me snapped.
I was now pounding away at Devon and her pussy with all of the strength and willpower that my body could possibly muster. Her entire body was bucking and bouncing beneath me in response, her eyes bulging and mouth agape, her cries now ricocheting off the walls of the central room.
Scarlett was still hunched over, and had her tongue buried in Devon's ear. "Must. Get. You. Pregnant!" I do not know if Scarlett was being serious or not, but it was still a fun and exciting scene regardless.
I grasped hold of Devon's wrists with both of my hands, then spread them as far as she could reach and pinned them to the floor. Her face flared with mad desire at being held down in a submissive manner as she bucked her hips upward to meet each of my hard, forceful thrusts. Devon's long-flowing blonde hair was fanned out like a wave on the floor beneath her as Scarlett sought her mouth for another round of kisses.
"Yeah, that's it!" Scarlett growled at me. "Hold her down like a slut and fuck her with all you got!"
Suddenly Devon's body convulsed and she cried out at the very top of her lungs. An instant later, it was as if her pussy detonated around my length into a withering maelstrom. Her slender frame shivered in orgasm beneath me, rippling and twitching as if she was being electrocuted.
It was far too much for me to handle. With one deep, final plunge, I shot a fresh, new batch of life-giving sperm into her hungry, willing pussy. It felt like a high-pressure hose inside the tight, unforgiving little crevice, spewing its load everywhere, coating and soaking her womb completely.
In the aftermath, I toppled over in an exhausted heap on the left side of Devon and stared up at the ceiling. She and I lay there, panting, our bodies weak, as Scarlett peppered us both with a series of gentle, loving kisses.
I reached out and touched Scarlett's baby bump, then she latched onto my hand with her own and held it in place.
"I love you, Jeremy," she offered, settling down on the opposite side of me. "I love you, Devon. I love you both."
I put my arm around Scarlett as Devon snuggled up close to me as well. "And we love you too, baby. Oh, we do..."
I reached back and rubbed my neck, gently massaging the aching group of muscles that called out from three hours of poring over the books spread out in front of me. I glanced at my wristwatch and took note of the fact that evening had transitioned into early morning; it was 12:39am on Thursday, March 3, 2016. I was in the home library - Pamela's private sanctuary - doing research, trying to understand the ins and outs of the upcoming crop and harvest season. I still had so very much to learn about this farming business.
Half a dozen books were strewn and open around me, and my fruit punch had long gone stale. I would have to remedy that situation on my next break, but was not worried about it at the moment. I stretched briefly, but then returned to my research, taking notes on my laptop computer as I went.
It did not matter to me that our family's net worth, thanks in large part to my prior business ventures when I was younger, was somewhere in the two billion (USD) range. I had taken control of this farm a year and a half ago - the same farm that Kristanna's parents had built in 1979 and then spent decades cultivating - and, by God, it was going to turn a profit with me at the helm. Any financial gain was of no consequence to me; this was just the business shark in me. I had literally never failed at any business venture I took on.
But I had not done the greatest job managing the farm since officially taking it over from Kristanna's parents, Kristof and Rande. It was losing money at a steady pace. Still, we would never run low on financial resources as a family, and the farm would always be here, no matter what. It was much too important to Kristanna to ever give up on, considering how she had lived here for her entire life. All of her childhood memories were here, and they were precious to her. This farm was like Heaven on Earth to Kristanna.
But the bottom line was I felt highly perplexed that I had yet to figure things out in regards to turning a profit with the farm. Kristof would offer me input if I asked him; but at 73 years of age, I preferred to let him enjoy his retirement and not burden him with any work-related issues. I really wanted to accomplish this on my own. Then again, maybe that was the problem. I had always been very stubborn and was under the impression, at least when it came to business, that my way was the only way. Yet that mindset had gotten me to where I am right now in life, right? It had driven me to the financial security that we now had.
I looked up, lost in my work, but immediately smiled upon seeing the one and only Lindsay standing at the entranceway to the library. Lindsay, needless to say, was striking. She was a little blonde firecracker with twinkly blue eyes and a warm smile. Lindsay was the type of young woman that you wanted to hug and kiss on for hours. And other things too.
She had on a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, with the drawing of a smiling, funny-looking monster holding a tray of goodies etched across its front, the words Come to the dark side ... we have cookies! accompanying it. The 21-year-old also wore a pair of black pajama pants with cookie designs (and bites taken out of them) that matched the t-shirt. It was not sexy, per se; but it was simply cute. Very, very cute.
I was not used to seeing Lindsay in pajamas. But she had worn them every night since giving birth to our daughter, Kaylee Janae, a little more than two weeks ago. Her body was not back to its pre-pregnant form, of course, so Lindsay did not feel comfortable sleeping in the nude as she had often done in the past. In due time, though, she would. Lindsay was going to begin an exercise regime with Trish in about a month or so in order to get her trim figure back.
"Hey, sweetheart," I greeted Lindsay in return. Perhaps a break from my farming research was not such a bad thing after all. Especially if it involved this little doll.
"When are you coming to bed?" Lindsay asked me with an exaggerated, yet highly irresistible pout, stepping closer. It was too much. The large, sorrowful puppy dog eyes, the pouty mouth, the little furrowed brow. I took a deep breath as my resolve all but instantly crumbled.
"It is late," I conceded, motioning with both hands for her to come closer. When she did, I brought Lindsay across my lap and slid an arm around her delicate waistline. "How's my little princess doing tonight?"
"Fine," Lindsay giggled, her cheeks blooming with that gorgeous blush that had never once failed to captivate me. That blush was her trademark. It was also irresistible.
"And Kaylee? Is she sleeping?"
"Yeah," Lindsay nodded. "She will probably get hungry and wake up around three o'clock. That seems to be her routine. I read her a bedtime story and she fell asleep at 11:30. I like it how Kaylee really responds to my voice."
"All newborns find comfort and peace with the sound of their mother's voice," I mused. "Kaylee is an extension of you, honey. She certainly responds a whole lot more to you at this point than she does me. But that is normal."
"Kaylee is an extension of you too, Jeremy."
"Oh I know, honey."
It was difficult for me to have the lovely and vivacious Lindsay sitting in my lap, her body pressed against mine, while not being able to act on my urges. In all honesty, I wanted to rip Lindsay's pajamas off and make mad, passionate love to her. And why not? Could anyone blame me?
Unfortunately, however, Lindsay's body was still recovering and healing from the process of being pregnant for nine months and then going through 15 hours of painful labor. She still had a whole month - six total weeks after Kaylee was born - before the doctor suggested that it was safe for her to become sexually active and intimate again. I could hardly wait. Nor could any of the other ladies in our family.
I smiled at her. "How about Trish and her baby, Jackson? I trust Jackson is sleeping right now, too?"
"Trish and I put Jackson and Kaylee down at the same time," Lindsay informed me. "Trish is in bed with everyone else." Lindsay jabbed at my shoulder with an extended finger and playfully growled, "Which is where you should be, Jeremy!"
"But I don't wanna!" I grinned at her in defiance. "I much prefer being right here with you - you in my lap - over anything else right now. Sleep is highly over-rated."
Lindsay swiveled in my lap and reached over toward one of the side drawers of the massive computer desk. She opened it and fished around inside, then pulled out a small candy bar. I thought I was the only one who knew that Pamela had a stash of guilty delights hidden here in the library. Guess not.
"Chocolate is the cure for all the world's problems," Lindsay mused, slowly licking the remnants off of her thumb with the sexy finesse that only she could master once the candy bar was gone seconds later. My whole world came to an abrupt halt as I took in the amazing visual. Lindsay was equal parts beautiful and sexy. Toss in her sweet charm and she often snagged the attention of anyone on two legs, whether it be male or female. To say that Lindsay had a long list of admirers was an understatement.
Yet she was my wife, and I was the only man she had ever given herself to in a sexual way. Nothing was guaranteed, of course, but I seriously doubted that would ever change. I was going to be Lindsay's first and only man throughout her entire life. The girl had eyes for no other man than me. I mean, how awesome was that? Really? I felt incredibly privileged and honored to be the only man Lindsay would ever give herself to and experience on an intimate level.
"We should probably kiss or something," Lindsay suggested, her lips a mere two inches from mine. She must have noticed that I had been idly gawking at her. "I'd like that."
I chuckled lightly. Kissing was not against doctor's orders, thankfully. "Oh yeah? You would, would you?"
"Very much so," Lindsay murmured before descending on my mouth. There was no denying that our shared kiss was pretty wonderful. We sank into it together; I felt it in my soul and it spiraled outward, cascading and flooding every cell and nerve ending within my body. I moved in closer, running my hands up the back of her neck and throughout her hair. My young bride purred in delight when she coiled her right leg around my waist and squeezed generously as the scintillating kisses continued and became even deeper and more emotional.
Before the spark between us turned into a raging inferno, I made it a point to slow our pace before withdrawing my mouth away entirely. I was tempted and this was difficult, indeed, but I could not risk a setback to Lindsay's health by becoming intimate with her this closely removed from delivery. What if she were to start bleeding? I certainly did not want to have to rush her to the hospital in the middle of the night. Still, it had been one hell of a good make-out session and both Lindsay and yours truly were breathless as a result.
Lindsay turned in my arms and nestled her back against me, facing the mass of research books and the open laptop. She knew the risk factor too, and that we had to stop before things got out of control. Of course, I held Lindsay snugly from behind and planted a kiss just below her earlobe, which made her entire body shiver. Lindsay proceeded to cover my arms with hers at her stomach and hug them even tighter to her. She then offered the most content, grateful sigh ever.
"Since you refuse to go to sleep, Jeremy, I have an idea what you and I could do to get through the night."
"Hmmmmm?" I grinned casually. "What's that, sweetheart?"
I laughed. Lindsay and her video games. "Sounds erotic."
Lindsay and I stayed in the library and talked for a long time, which made it all the more better to me. We spoke about parenthood and how our lives were going to be forever changed because of not only Kaylee, but all of the other children as well. She and I also touched on my upcoming wedding with Scarlett which would take place next week here in Norway. And Lindsay was going to marry Scarlett in the summer. We also found plenty of other interesting topics to discuss.
I looked dreamily at Lindsay, who was still sprawled out across my lap, though we had since moved to the comfortable and plush sofa here in the library. "So, honey. I got one for you. If you were stranded on a desert island with no one else in sight, what would you do with your time?"
"Practice and perfect the cartwheel. No question. You?"
"Wow," I laughed. "You didn't even need a second to think on that one. Ummmmm, I could try the cartwheel thing I guess, but I would probably wind up breaking my neck in the process."
"That's because you're old."
My mouth dropped open in an equal mixture of playful shock and offense. "I am NOT old, honey. You need to stop saying that about me." I gave a mock sniff. "It's hurtful."
"It's not so much that you're 41, and going to be 42 in three weeks," Lindsay explained. "You are old enough to be a grandpa by the way, Jeremy, you know. But it's the simple fact that while you may be 41, you have the body and physical prowess of someone who is 101. You're old. Hardcore ancient."
I tilted my head and peered at her intently. Lindsay loved to tease me and go on about the disparity in our ages. It had been this way since we first met, and I doubt it would ever change. I did not want it to change, mind you. It was fun and playful, a free-spirited series of barbs we traded from time to time. It was our own little thing.
But I decided to go back to the prior topic. "Stranded on a desert island. The cartwheel you plan to perfect, Lindsay, while good exercise, would not keep you alive."
"True, but think how impressed the rescuers would be if they found me. They would make me the mayor of cartwheels! They would give me to the key to Cartwheel City. You could visit. But the city would need wheelchair access for you."
I shook my head in astonishment and pinned Lindsay beneath me upon the sofa, only to start tickling her mercilessly in a series of moves that had her squirming and giggling to escape the assault. Still, she held steadfast.
"Say I'm the mayor of Cartwheel City!"
I smiled at her. "You are so whacky, it's scary."
"I'm not whacky, I'm charming!" she huffed as I put an end to the tickle torture. "Now say it. Say what I would be."
I relented. "You, my incredibly sweet and beautiful wife, would be the mayor of Cartwheel City."
Lindsay ran her hands up and down my sides. "Awwwww. I like the way you said it, Jeremy. It was really nice."
I lifted her chin with one finger and met her gaze softly. "I have been known to be nice every now and then."
"I love it when you're nice." Of course, there was that mouth. God, that sweet mouth. I kissed it tenderly until finally, Lindsay curled into my arms like she belonged there. She did. It was her rightful place in life.
As it got deeper into the early morning hours and both of us became quite groggy and tired, our conversation slowed and eventually dwindled away. Still, I fought the urge to sleep, wanting to savor every moment of having Lindsay within my arms as she now slumbered away quite peacefully herself. As we lay with our limbs tangled, her face tucked into my neck, I knew that falling asleep was so totally not worth it. I wanted to relish the togetherness that I felt with her right now.
But the sound of a crying baby at 3:13am broke the tranquil bliss and serenity of the moment for me, and immediately gave me a new priority. I reached over and shut off the wireless baby monitor within a second, then was delighted to find that the sudden outburst had not awakened Lindsay. She startled, yes, but went right back into a deep and relaxing sleep. Oh, that cry belonged to Kaylee. She was awake, and hungry.
Lindsay had stretched herself to the absolute max over the past two weeks taking care of Kaylee and tending to her every infant whim. Right now, at least, I was going to allow Lindsay to sleep through Kaylee's cries and struggles, and handle the situation myself. Lindsay deserved some time off.
I left my wife all nice and snuggled within two blankets on the library sofa and quickly hurried off toward the nursery room that Kaylee shared with her older brother (by a whole three days!), Jackson. As luck would have it, Jackson was awake and feeding too; his mother, Trish, cradled him close to her chest as she stood over Kaylee's crib, gently massaging her cries away with a thumb caressing her neck and shoulders.
"Where have you been all night?" Trish asked me, obviously referring to the fact that I never did join her and the others in bed. I hope none of them worried about me. "And Lindsay?" Trish glanced around and behind me. "Where is Lindsay? I imagine that she has been with you this whole, entire time?"
"Lindsay and I were having too good of a conversation to pass up by going to bed earlier in the library," I informed Trish. "She eventually did fall asleep, and is still there. I'm going to take care of Kaylee myself tonight."
My little daughter was upset and quite fussy when I picked her up and lovingly cradled her to my sternum with both arms. Trish went over to the refrigerator and retrieved a bottle with Kaylee's name on it; it was her infant formula. Lindsay had decided that she was going to occasionally supplement Kaylee's breastfeeding diet with a bottle every now and then. After all, breastfeeding was physically demanding and taxing for a new mother. Some handled it much better than others. Fortunately, Kaylee did not seem to mind the bottle as an alternative. This would be her fourth time using it.
"Everyone else asleep in bed?"
"Oh yeah," Trish responded, strolling over to her favorite rocking chair and taking a seat there. I followed closely behind, only to give Trish a kiss on the lips, followed by a peck on the cheek to Jackson. But he was too happy of a little dude right now to even notice.
"Any issues or complaints from Kristanna or Scarlett before they fell asleep?" Both ladies were eight months pregnant, of course. Scarlett was carrying a boy (Dylan) while Kristanna would soon give birth to a girl (Ariel). Their personal happiness and well-being was first and foremost on my mind at the moment.
"No, not really," Trish responded. "Everyone was pretty happy and in a good mood tonight. We watched some romantic comedy movies in bed, and then people started going out like lights. Although, many of us wondered where you were, Jeremy. Lindsay then checked the voyeur room and said she found you knee-deep in research books in the library." Trish grinned and chuckled lightly, apparently at the forthcoming thought. "Lindsay said you looked all stern, and super serious."
"Still trying to figure out this whole farming thing." I then glanced down at Kaylee, and smiled at her. She was only two weeks old; so incredibly delicate, and utterly precious. Kaylee was the result of the love that Lindsay and I shared.
I truly believed that letting a baby take a bottle from Dad was a great way to encourage bonding while, at the same time, giving Mom a much-needed break. I felt a special, certain sense of closeness with Kaylee as I began feeding her through the bottle. Gazing down at her, feeling the tenderness of skin-to-skin contact, knowing that I was providing vital nourishment ... this was bonding at its best.
Trish draped a towel across her shoulder and held Jackson against it, then began to pat his back in quick, rapid-fire succession. After about 20 seconds, Jackson let out a little burp and Trish allowed him to return to breastfeeding.
"Make sure you burp Kaylee for every one ounce of fluid that she takes," Trish reminded me.
Not to be forgotten or denied proper credit, of course, but Trish was a very original, sophisticated and all-natural stunner. A fiercely loyal spirit that often found herself as the center of attention, Trish embodied a fun and friendly persona that fit seamlessly with the rest of the ladies in our family. She was completely uncompromising in both her hobbies and work, needing to see things through to the end. The 33-year-old tackled every project in life with her all.
Trish's signature curvaceous and sexy figure came from well over 15 years of athletic conditioning. This fit and foxy lady was once employed as a fitness instructor in her original hometown near Toronto. Trish had played hockey, lacrosse and volleyball, and even took up both the martial arts and kickboxing for a few years while still in Canada.
Perhaps most impressive of all was that Trish had held steadfast in her promise to stay physically fit and active while pregnant with our son, Jackson. At nine months in, Trish would wake up every morning and perform 100 squats without any assistance. Everyone would marvel at her for it and her doctor encouraged Trish to continue to do it even deep into her pregnancy. Because her body was so well honed and conditioned from countless years of exercise (not to mention accustomed to its trials and rigors), there was no risk factor for the baby. Jackson was never in danger.
As a result of such a devoted and healthy lifestyle, while Trish did not quite have the hardbody look back just yet after giving birth two and a half weeks ago, no one could even tell that she had been pregnant to begin with. It was remarkable. Trish was encouraging everyone in our family, even without saying a word, to stay active and live healthy.
I had never pinned down what Trish's ultimate appeal for me was, though. Perhaps it was her smile? It was golden, and so very genuine. How about her personality? She was very friendly and outgoing, and had a kind word for everyone. Trish was very approachable, with a down-home quality about her while also being very glamorous all at the same time. Maybe her work ethic and dedication? No one appreciated the time and effort that she put into her body more than I did.
But perhaps my favorite quality about Trish, believe it or not, was the unparalleled love that she felt for Lindsay. Yes, I believe that is the case. Trish loved Lindsay with every fiber of her being, her soul. It had been that way since the moment they met each other. Almost three years later, those feelings were a trillion times more intense. Trish would do anything for Lindsay. She would die for her.
Contemplating these thoughts, I glanced over at Trish and smiled at her. Oh, she was so incredibly pretty. Swirls of caramel-brown hair cascaded down and complimented her sweet, gorgeous face, and she eventually smiled back me. There were no words exchanged, but it was an awesome moment in time. Trish knew exactly what I thought of her.
A half-hour later, Kaylee finally finished off the bottle as Trish looked on and watched me with a grin, seemingly transfixed. She had put Jackson back into his crib earlier.
"I think Kaylee already gained like an ounce in the time I fed her," I mused, which made Trish break out into laughter. "I think she got taller, too." I gazed down into Kaylee's sleepy, blue eyes and swooned, "You're gettin' taller already, because Daddy fed you. Yeah, Daddy fed you, so you're gettin' taller. And you're gonna projectile vomit all over my face any second now too ... I can already sense it."
"Hey!" came a perplexed, high-pitched whine from beside us. When I turned, I found Lindsay standing at the doorway to the nursery. She did not seem all too happy. "What are you doing, Jeremy, feeding Kaylee without me?" Wait. Lindsay was awake? I had left her sleeping like a log in the library.
Trish quickly bridged the distance between herself and Lindsay, and ran a reassuring hand throughout her hair. "He wanted to give you a break, honey. That's all."
"But if Jeremy is going to feed Kaylee, I want to be there to watch it!" Lindsay shrieked. Indeed, she was quite upset. "Do you know how special it is for me to watch my baby girl and her daddy share a special moment like that? I missed it!"
"I'm sorry, honey," I frowned at her. "I just thought it would be best if you got a little extra rest is all."
Lindsay was still pouting, but took a deep breath and seemed to relent. "Kaylee finished the whole bottle?"
"Yes," I replied, handing the little bundle of joy to her. "She just needs to be burped for her final time."
What I tried and failed at for the last five minutes - coaxing that final burp out of Kaylee - Lindsay accomplished herself with about ten seconds of effort. Indeed, she had a mother's touch. Nothing in the world could compete with it.
"Oh, you're REALLY tired," Lindsay commented to Kaylee, nodding her head for emphasis. She put Kaylee in her crib and covered her with her blue puppy blanket. "Time to go to sleep, sweetie. Night-night! I love you!"
Suddenly, Lindsay broke out into chorus with a musical verse. "Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight. With lillies o'er spread, is baby's wee bed. Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed. Lay thee down now and rest, may thy slumber be blessed."
I recognized this particular song. It was Brahms' Lullaby, originally written and composed in the year 1868 by German songwriter Johannes Brahm. Lindsay, who had an excellent singing voice, gave a wonderful rendition of the famous lullaby song. Best of all, she was not finished quite yet.
"Lullaby and good night, thy mother's delight. Bright angels beside, my darling abide. They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast. They will guard thee at rest, thou shalt wake on my breast."
"She's out," Lindsay then whispered, turning to look at both Trish and yours truly. "That was quick."
"Jackson is sleeping too," Trish murmured. "I say the three of us go to bed ourselves. It's almost four o'clock."
"That's the best idea I've heard all day," I nodded, latching hands with Trish and Lindsay simultaneously. I had been awake for 21 hours straight, and was dragging.
Good Lord, I slept hard. That much, I was clear on. My arms and legs felt heavy and weak when I awoke much later that morning. It took several well-devoted blinks before the circumstances of the morning gradually floated my way in loose, fragmented waves.
But something was really nice. There was a warmth all around me, the type of fantastic, amazing warmth that I could not help but to revel in for a moment or two. Or not.
Realization suddenly dawned on me and I was in shock. That warmth I spoke of? I was lying in bed with my legs spread apart, but Amy was hunched over on her elbows and knees directly between them. She was grasping and frigging my throbbing cock with both hands while using her tongue to lick it into a heated frenzy. The black t-shirt that Amy wore was so large that it hung to her knees. On the front of it were the words High Maintenance ... but SO worth it.
Amy's green eyes sparkled and she flashed me a naughty grin as her tongue continually fluttered over the head of my cock. "Oh ... it's about time you woke up, sleepy-head!"
I glanced over at the alarm clock and noticed that it was 11:37am. Indeed, I had not slept this deep into the morning in quite a long time. I closed my eyes and let my head fall back to the pillow in sheer ecstasy once Amy took the entire length of my shaft into her mouth. Her red head furiously bobbed up-and-down on my cock as she made audible slurping noises. I simply relaxed there and wondered to myself if there could possibly be a better way to wake up than this.
I watched Amy settle her slender frame onto the mattress as she lay on her frontside, with her feet skyward and idly dangling about. Now holding the base of my shaft with her right hand, Amy extended her tongue and swiped it over and across its thick, pulsing underside. She then moaned and dropped her mouth upon the very tip of my erection.
But like a responsible parent, I needed the answer to a certain question. "Honey, where's the baby at?" I was referring, of course, to Dani Grace - our seven-month-old daughter that Amy and I had together.
"She is playing with Devon and Lindsay," Amy told me, her mouth continuing to suck and pay homage to my shaft as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. "She's fine. Devon insisted that I have some alone time with you."
Satisfied with that answer, I growled out like a madman as Amy continued to pump my cock with her right hand while now using her left to cup and stimulate my testicles. Her right hand moved faster and faster while her mouth sucked harder and harder. It was the type of blowjob one saw in an X-rated film. Yet coming from my wife, it was beyond perfect.
Amy's hot, wet tongue was all over my testicles now, licking them as if they were candy-coated treats. She sucked one into her mouth, used her hand to squeeze them together, then sucked on both at the same time. The feeling was sensational! She then tongued me up and down before taking me whole yet again, stuffing my cock into the deep, far reaches of her throat.
Amy kept her lips sealed incredibly tight, her eyes focused on my face and not once straying. She kept stroking me with a single hand before I growled and shot a creamy, thick salvo of sperm into her hungry, awaiting mouth. More eruptions quickly ensued, and Amy gratefully extracted and then swallowed every last remnant of gooey seed from me that she possibly could. I finished with a whimper as she happily smacked her own lips. The 33-year-old hellcat was obviously very proud of herself.
"Bet you weren't expecting to wake up to this," Amy commented after a short pause, her smile beaming. Now on her hands and knees, she glided upward and settled directly beside me upon the bed. Amy nuzzled her face upon my shoulder and sighed contently while massaging my chest with her hand.
"Hmmmmm ... good morning," she announced next.
I wrapped an arm around Amy's shoulder and pulled her a bit closer to me. "Yes, good morning. Good morning, indeed." I was still reeling from being woke up in the sizzling manner that I had. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside as a result.
"Where is everyone?" was my absent-minded question. "Any of the others go out and do anything today?"
"Oh no," Amy responded. "Not at all. We got snow last night, Jeremy. Everyone is home, keeping warm."
I raised my head and looked toward the window, but the blinds were drawn and thus, I could not see the amount of snow outside. Of course, I could not help but to chuckle at the situation. I had gone from the tropical, year-round paradise of the island to the cold, frigid winters of Norway. But I was not complaining. This was our family's home now. I would not trade it for anything in the whole, wide world. Still, what a difference a few years could make.
I recalled Devon mentioning yesterday that snow was in the forecast overnight. "How much snow did we get, Amy?"
"A good amount," she answered. "Several inches. The ground is completely covered, and it's the thick type."
I grinned. "Perfect for building a snow-man. I bet Kaden and Piper would love to play in the snow for a bit, if it's not too windy. We will have to see in a bit." Kaden (19 months) and Piper (15 months) were my two oldest children. Their mothers were Kristanna and Pamela, respectively.
"I talked to my mom for a long time this morning."
"Oh? How did that conversation go? She doing okay?"
"Yeah," Amy nodded. "Mom said everything is still on track for her and Dad to move here by the beginning of the summer. Dad already has a couple of employment opportunities lined up here in Norway and is exploring them."
I kissed the very crown of Amy's head and smiled. "Your parents moving here and getting involved in your life on a routine basis, and being here for Dani Grace ... I think it is such an awesome idea, Amy. A neat idea, a great idea. I just want your parents to know if they need any assistance in the transition, I would be more than happy to help them." Amy vehemently shook her head as I ended, "Moving overseas - from the United States to Norway - is a very costly ordeal."
"They don't want you to help them," Amy reminded me for literally the hundredth time. "They have enough money for everything to work out. Dad is very stubborn about that. He does not want any hand-outs, or even a loan, from you."
As long-time and loyal readers of the "Island Fever" saga should easily recall, for several years, Amy had what could be mildly described as a strained relationship with both her mother and father. Well, no. To be more precise (blunt), there had been a mutual disdain between her and them. A very harsh and cruel disdain.
Amy, an only child, never felt loved or wanted when she was growing up. Her father once told her that she was actually a mistake, and should have never been born in the first place. Amy was mostly abandoned in several ways as a youngster; she had to cook and clean for herself by the tender age of eight. Amy's parents, Robert and Kathleen, disapproved of many of the decisions that she had made in her life, especially those as an adult. They saw her first marriage (to a black man named Eddie) as a colossal lapse in judgment on her part. That marriage only lasted three years with two long separations mixed within. They also disapproved of Amy's promiscuous behavior (she cheated on Eddie several times behind his back and, once divorced, had multiple boyfriends at the same time).
Even as Amy came to the island and eventually surrounded herself with people who actually loved and cared for her - namely, the other ladies and yours truly - and we were able to finally steer her life in the proper direction, Robert and Kathleen still had their doubts. Despite a strong network of love and support, and the fact that she was receiving medical treatment for years of mental issues and personal anguish, Amy's parents simply did buy the change at first. I met them a few times and did my best to be friendly and cordial, but they wanted no part of me, either. To them, I was another Eddie. I would hurt Amy, or she would hurt me. Or both. And they wanted to distance themselves from that.
Amy and I tried several times to hook up with Robert and Kathleen, but they would always turn us away in one form or another. It got to the point where we nearly gave up hope.
As time went on, though, Robert and Kathleen began to change their tune. Although thousands of miles away, they did their best to keep up with Amy in whatever manner they could. They saw that she had finally found a home - with us - and that was not going to change. Amy was not going to cheat on me or the other ladies, and ruin everything. I was not going to ... physically assault ... Amy, as Eddie did from time to time (I do not want to get started, or delve into that topic here). Robert and Kathleen saw photographs of a happy and smiling Amy, a vibrant Amy, over the Internet on a near daily basis. They realized that she had finally straightened up - perhaps even grown up - and turned her life around.
We had no idea of their change of heart, of course. I showed up, unannounced, on Robert and Kathleen's doorstep last June (while on vacation in Ohio with Lindsay) and told them that Amy was very deep into her pregnancy, she had some serious health issues during it, and that she would be giving birth very soon. I also told them that it would mean the absolute world to Amy if somehow, someway, they could be there for her in Norway when Dani Grace was born. After all, Robert and Kathleen were Dani Grace's grandparents-in-waiting.
I was expecting another rejection, of course, but was shocked when both of them literally jumped at the opportunity. They said they had been looking for a way to reconnect with Amy and get back into her life, and make everything right with her, but felt that window of opportunity had long since shut. I made arrangements with them and, lo and behold, Amy's parents were right beside her in the hospital room here in Sandvika when Dani Grace was born on August 3, 2015.
Since that time, a lot of healing had taken place between Amy and her parents. After they returned home to the United States, Amy spoke with them five or six days per week over the telephone and confided nearly everything about her life to them. For perhaps the first time ever, Amy felt cared for and loved by her parents. And it was a wonderful thing. Robert and Kathleen took a vested interest in Dani Grace, their granddaughter, and always wanted to know about her.
At Christmastime, Kathleen called and informed us that she and Robert wanted to take the next step and actually be the parents for Amy that she had deserved all along. They were going to leave their home in Ohio and move to Norway in order to be with Amy and Dani Grace on a near daily basis. They even wanted to get to know each of Amy's wives on an individual basis. As you may imagine, this was the best Christmas present that Amy could have ever possibly received.
There was a tremendous amount of effort and planning into making a move like this possible, so it was not going to happen overnight. Robert and Kathleen were still in the process of getting everything squared away, but hoped to be here and settled into a home by the end of May. The house they had their eyes on was only a half-mile down the road. Amy could not wait until her parents were able to move here. Perhaps it would help erase the scars from her childhood.
"Lindsay actually answered my cell phone for me this morning when it rang, and talked to Mom for a few minutes," Amy mused as she and I continued to lounge and relax in bed following her monumental blowjob. "I thought it was kind of neat. Lindsay was telling Mom all about Jackson and Kaylee."
"Oh? What did she say to her?"
Amy smiled. "Lindsay was telling my mom that when Kaylee was born and she was able to look into her eyes for the very first time, it was the most amazing experience of her entire life. Lindsay told my mom that giving birth to Kaylee has overwhelmed her in the best possible way ... the happy way."
As Amy spoke, I found myself transfixed with that mouth. Oh, Amy's wondrous mouth - those puffy, lilac soft lips which could provide endless amounts of unyielding stimulation and pleasure. They were Aphrodite-red and looked as sweet as strawberries. And damn, I suddenly felt hungry.
Amy halted everything and focused entirely on me as I threaded my fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, gently aligning her gaze with my own. "Why is it, Amy, that every time I look at you, all I want to do is kiss you?"
Amy let out an audible sigh as I lowered my head and settled my mouth over top of hers. The kiss was pure magic. A jolt of electrical current cascaded throughout my body, straight to the juncture between my legs, and the world around us seemed to momentarily cease to exist. Amy placed her hand on my jaw and a warm glow suddenly filled my soul.
We tasted and teased each other until Amy opened her mouth with a gentle groan. Our tongues dueled, tormented and made love in a blissful symphony. Soon, simple breathing became very difficult. Still, I needed more. I fisted her hair with my hand, drawing her head back, allowing myself even greater access to her mouth. And like a starving man, I fed. A tidal wave of need crushed my senses. I moved my hands to Amy's face, holding her steady as I kissed her hungrily, madly.
Slowing the kiss, I traced my tongue across Amy's lower lip and even bit on it ever so gently. Finally, I pulled my mouth away and caressed Amy's cheek with my thumb. I gazed deep into her eyes and simply said, "I love you, sweetheart."
Amy smiled. "I love you too, Jeremy."
"Coffee delivery girl," Scarlett practically sang as she suddenly appeared by opening the bedroom door, and stepping inside. "I'm here to make all of your wintery chills go away, and your morning dreams come true, via caffeine."
"The coffee fairy didn't forget us, Amy," I grinned, as Scarlett deposited a plain latte for me on the night-stand next to the bed.
"Yay," Amy deadpanned.
"Morning, Amy." Scarlett kissed her cheek with a smack.
"And you're in a good mood, too. Again."
Scarlett inhaled and smiled at Amy. "That I am. Just nine short days until Jeremy and I get married." She handed Amy the other cup. "And an almond latte for you, my dear."
Scarlett then glanced all around the bedroom, yet promptly noticed the outline of my cock poking against the thin fabric of the bedsheet. Suddenly, she was blushing like mad. "Oh, I'm sorry," Scarlett offered, embarrassed, giving both Amy and I equal looks. "Did I interrupt something? I can leave."
"You're not going anywhere," Amy purred, latching onto Scarlett's wrist and gently reeling her closer. With her opposite hand, Amy took a quick drink of her coffee and then placed its cup onto the night-stand on her side of the bed.
Slowly, gingerly, Scarlett planted a knee upon the mattress and allowed herself to be pulled onto it. She promptly settled herself directly between Amy and yours truly, but was facing Amy. The two ladies shared a deep, slow-moving kiss as I lifted the hem of Scarlett's dress up past her waistline. I smiled at the sight of her red thong panties, as well as the delicate, sexy bulge of her stomach. I just had to touch and caress it. That ass was nice and smooth, too, and warranted plenty of attention. Perhaps it could be my lunch?
Scarlett broke the kiss with Amy, only to turn and smile at me. I pressed my lips to hers and we had our own exchange of tongues as Amy splayed kisses along the back of Scarlett's neck and across her shoulders. A moment later, Scarlett turned and re-focused all of her attention upon Amy.
Listening to the sounds that Amy and Scarlett made as they enjoyed and sampled each other, while I lay idly by in our luxurious bedroom that was just one small part of an enormous mansion, I sighed in a kind of pleasurable disbelief at the blessings life had brought me. Six extraordinary wives - soon to be seven - all of whom I had an iron-clad bond with that I could hardly imagine any other man in history had enjoyed. The means to live exactly as we pleased as a family - to have the ability to go on vacation at a moment's notice - to be able to spend so much quality time together, to watch our children grow and develop ... we were so incredibly blessed.
"Lick my pussy now, sweetheart," Amy said, followed by the rhythmic wet sounds of Scarlett complying, and then Amy sighing out in ecstasy, "Oh Scarlett, baby, you're so ... you're so good, baby. Oh my, oh God..."
I grinned. Watching the various women share themselves seemed to excite me even more than having them myself, at least sometimes. And the best part of all was the common goal of everyone in our family to make this life that we shared, all together, a kind of fulfillment that seemed otherwise impossible. All seven ladies and yours truly, together, each living out the erotic identities that none of us thought we ever could, playing with each other, pleasuring each other, loving each other.
I piled the wood logs on the porch and stomped my feet, snow tumbling off my boots. Born in Ohio and having spent my high school years in New Jersey, I was no stranger to cold winters like this and the snow that often accompanied them. Overnight, Sandvika and its surrounding area here in Norway had accumulations of nearly five inches of snow. Oh, what a difference a day makes. Yesterday was pleasant.
I stretched my arms wide, feeling quite invigorated after chopping all this wood for the fire. What a workout! I remembered when I was growing up, I would follow my father outside during those cold days and watch him as he chopped firewood in order to help keep our family warm. I had always looked up to my father during my younger, more formative years, and wanted to emulate him in every possible way. I was no different than any other normal boy, I suppose.
Back in the present time, the glow of the fire from the porch brought about a peculiar hesitation for me. For an instant, I could have sworn I smelled my mother's cooking. Even stranger, I allowed myself to linger in the past.
My mother always reminded me that I had to take my shoes off before getting past the front foyer whenever there was even a tiny hint of snow on the ground. Muddying up the carpet was a cardinal sin to her. I absolutely worshiped my two older brothers, Dan and Steve, and tried to tag along with them whenever I could. My sister, Di (also older), was quite popular, and I often thought her as a glitzy movie star back in those days. She was a superstar to me. Madonna, the musician who had just burst onto the scene, had nothing on my sister in the early-to-mid 1980's. Not in my eyes, at least.
When did it all go wrong? Why did my mother and father have to split apart? Why did Steve have to land on the wrong side of the fence, having been in and out of jail for mostly petty crimes for the past 35 years? Why did I have to fall out of favor with Di and Dan in recent years?
Looking back on things, I felt that my father getting transferred in his job to New Jersey - in January 1987 - was the one, single point where everything started to go in the wrong direction for our family. Age 12 at the time, I moved to New Jersey with my parents. I had no choice. Di and Dan stayed behind in Ohio. Steve was locked away in jail, having been caught in the middle of a drug deal gone sour.
The move was the first thing that fractured our family. Mom was not happy being away from home, nor was she afraid to let Dad know about it. Dad was overworked and highly overstressed, and not content at all with his private life. Me? I was quiet and shy, very reserved, and suddenly in a town and school where I knew no one, and felt as if I did not belong. In their mid-20's, Dan and Di banded together in Ohio and became much closer while distancing themselves - physically and emotionally - from Mom and Dad, as well as me.
Why, because of the recent choices I had made in my own life - having six (and soon to be seven) wives and a number of children which seemed to multiply exponentially - had Di and Dan all but disowned me as their brother, their flesh and blood? They felt appalled by me and the life that I currently led. Did the fact that I was finally happy in life not matter to them? They did not understand me at all. They did not understand what my life in Norway was about.
Yet, Dan and Di had disowned Steve, too. He was their brother, just like me. But they refused to admit that Steve was their brother because of all the brushes with the law he had gotten himself into over the years. Yes, I was in the same boat. To them, I was no longer their brother, either. Steve was the criminal. I was the unholy sinner.
Steve had a wife and two daughters in high school. They lived in squalor, in the backwoods of Kentucky, and barely had enough to survive. This past November, Steve needed a liver transplant, or he was going to die. Once a match was found, I made arrangements for him to be transported to a hospital in downtown Cincinnati, and paid for the surgical procedure and all other expenses out of my very own pocket.
Dan and Di? Nowhere to be found on the day of the surgery, either in the waiting room or while Steve was in recovery afterward. Mom was not there, either, but I knew that she loved Steve and was concerned about him. Mom chose not to show up because Dad was there, right alongside me. They had been seperated since 1998 and had only seen each other one time since - and that was at my wedding with Kristanna. Mom's excuse was that she could not bear being in the same presence as Dad ever again. It was too much for her.
Whether or not people can sympathize with Mom and her feelings, I do not know, but I had a serious issue with Dan and Di. Indeed, they had shut Steve out of their lives. Me too, right? Their very own brother was getting major, extensive surgery - an organ transplant - and neither of them bothered to show up and lend their love and support. Both of them lived in the Cincinnati area, for Christ's sake! Hell, Dad - even at age 77 - travelled there all the way from California to be with Steve. Dad was not on the best of terms with Steve, but he was there when his son needed him most.
The surgery was a success and Steve is doing well, but the whole ordeal really put things into perspective for me as it pertained to Dan and Di. There was no coming back for them. The way they had even refused to acknowledge Steve and the fact that he was getting surgery - a surgery that he needed, else he would die by the end of the year - was disgusting to me. Utterly and purely disgusting, and inhumane.
As a youngster, I could see all their faces, smiling and laughing, having a wonderful time around the dinner table. I remember playing an old, archaic version of video football on the Atari 2600 console with Dan for hours, days, weeks on end. The graphics were so bad, the players on the field looked like pretzel sticks. Yet at the time, it was the greatest video game over. Well, that ... and Space Invaders.
That was my biggest regret in life nowadays. Perhaps it was my only regret. My parents, my sister, my two brothers ... I will never get to experience another moment with all of them together at the same time again. Bits and pieces of the family had been ripped and torn to shreds; those wounds would never be healed. It was sad, painful and very disheartening.
Never say never, I guess I relent, but I had no illusions that there would be a magical reunion for my entire family and I similar to the one that Amy recently experienced with her parents. Very simply, it was not going to happen. The breaking point had already been passed long ago.
I blinked back the moisture in my eyes that I somehow convinced myself was from the cold, bitter wind, and not some overzealous emotions. I cleared my throat and entered the mansion with a bundle of fresh firewood over my shoulder.
"Two chicken littles with no pickles?" I knew who that voice belonged to, and smiled as a result of it. My dear, sweet, incredibly precious ... Pamela. "You're crazy." She was resting comfortably alongside Kristanna upon the sofa. The two ladies seemed to be in the middle of a discussion. If you wanted to call it that, I suppose.
"Two chicken littles with no pickles!" Kristanna shot back, that playful, vibrant demeanor of hers on full display. And so was a big, beautiful baby bump. Like Scarlett, Kristanna was eight months pregnant. She had her legs leisurely draped across Pamela's lap. "I'm crazy? You're crazy, Pammy. You don't know what in the world you're talking about!"
"You're supposed to always have pickles on your chicken littles," Pamela countered, trying to be the voice of reason.
Kristanna sighed. "OH ... when you get pickles on your chicken littles, you need some nickles to pay for those pickles on your chicken littles." As Pamela gasped loudly in response, she and Kristanna stared at each other for a moment with wide, bulging eyes, then giggled in unison and turned to look at me. Kristanna then made a strange gesture and pointed my way. "Look, Pammy. It's ... the ABOMINABLE SNOWMAN!"
"Jeremy does have some certain ape-like tendencies," Pamela teased, trying (but failing) to conceal her smile.
"Oh, look," I offered in an innocent voice. "It's Frick and Frack." That was one of my many nicknames for these two, especially when paired as a duo. I then eyed Kristanna and grinned, "Or should I call you ... the incubator?"
Kristanna glanced down at her pregnant belly, then back at me and made a face. It was followed by a giggle, of course.
"Well," Pamela shrugged at me, "you're the masturbator."
"Oh, you girls have got it going today!" I chuckled at them. "Your comedy act tonight cancelled due to the snow? Taking it all out on me now, are you?"
"There is nothing better to me in the world than being able to rip and tease on you, Jeremy," Kristanna commented. "Well, except for ripping and teasing on Pammy." Pamela shot her a look as Kristanna concluded, "Nothing tops that."
Pamela held up a menacing, yet equally playful fist, and waved it about just in front of Kristanna's face for several seconds. The mere image made me burst out into laughter.
"You two should really just kiss and make up."
Pamela leered at me. "You'd like that. Wouldn't you?"
"Of course," I shrugged. "Why wouldn't I?"
The personal relationship between Kristanna and Pamela had evolved over time to the point where, quite simply, they were now inseparable. Kristanna and Pamela were the absolute best of friends, and wildly in love with each other. They were literally joined at the hip! Their mutual love rivaled that of Trish and Lindsay's.
Pamela had changed a great deal since the day I first met her on the island nearly three years ago. The core person was still there and intact, of course - Pamela's principals and values, but her outlook on life and the way she carried herself was completely different. A lot of that could be attributed to Kristanna and the effect that she had on her.
The Pamela I remembered from June 2013 was very reserved and cautious, even somewhat withdrawn. The former exotic dancer may have been charming and sweet, but she was also very guarded. That woman literally kept a force field of a barrier around her at all times. Pamela had been in the strip club circuit long enough that the verbal abuse and degredation, the humiliation, she experienced on a nightly basis had chipped away at her trust in humanity as a whole.
When I first met her, Pamela rarely smiled or laughed. She would have rather stayed at home and read a book instead of going out for an evening on the town with friends. Pamela had not been on a date with another man in over a year. She simply did not trust others or their intentions. Although spending nearly all of her free time by herself had provided a keen sense of comfort and security, it also led to a lot of lonely nights that chipped away at her pysche in other ways. She was a broken person, with an even more broken soul.
Pamela in March 2016? Thanks to yours truly and the loving group of amazing women who surrounded her on a daily basis, Pamela was very sociable and outgoing. She was upbeat and lively, oftentimes had a smile, and absolutely loved to laugh and joke around. Pamela had changed so much in such a short amount of time, and it was all for the better. The person who was most responsible for this transformation, aside from Pamela herself, was Kristanna. Go figure.
It is simply impossible to be around someone as eternally cheerful as Kristanna for any length of time and not have a happy demeanor and consequently a better sense of well-being because of it. Kristanna had spent so much time with Pamela since she had finally committed to our family and way of life in December 2013, been around her day in and day out, her personality and infectious attitude had simply rubbed off on her. Kristanna radiated happiness and positive energy.
She always had a smile and had formed warm bonds with everyone in our family. The good vibrations that Kristanna regularly emitted earned her a level of appreciation, both inside and outside the family, that was unmatched. Who doesn't want to be around a jovial person that has a constant smile and simply exudes pure sunshine and sweetness?
Kristanna led her life to the fullest. Not overly greedy or self-centered at all, Kristanna appreciated what she had and constantly recognized the many blessings that came her way. And she was more than willing to show gratitude and appreciation herself when it was necessary.
Kristanna had gotten so close to Pamela in the time they had been together, and subsequentally stole her heart. There was a very strong connection between the two of them. Pamela could find happiness with just a simple acknowledgement from Kristanna; be it a mere look, a polite nod, or a friendly smile.
As a result of Kristanna and her influence (as well as the rest of us, mind you) Pamela's world was very bright, sunny, optimistic and full of joy.
Of course, Kristanna had that same sort of impact on several others in our little group. Perhaps none moreso than me, right? I was once a shy recluse, literally afraid of my own shadow, living on a deserted island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for 13 years before Kristanna came into my life ... Look at me today ... Kristanna was the unquestioned catalyst and driving force that forever changed my life. Everything I had, I owed to her. There was no denying it.
After putting the firewood that I had carried into the mansion down near the fireplace and shrugging off my heavy winter coat, Kristanna turned toward Pamela and seemingly spoke randomly, "This sofa is very ... you."
"Hmmmmm?" Pamela inquired, curling a knee up and resting one of her bare feet upon the sofa cushion. "You think so? The sofa is very ... me? In what way?"
"The high, sculpted back and arms signify a truly grand, regal quality. You do that too."
"Okay," Pamela nodded. "I can live with that."
"And the gray is conservative, also like you."
"You think I'm conservative?" Pamela asked, dubious.
"I KNOW you're conservative," Kristanna responded with a grin. Pamela shrugged in halfhearted acceptance as Kristanna quickly added, "That bothers you?"
"It doesn't bother me. I am very conservative and should own up to that. I'm just not sure it's something I love about myself." Pamela stood up from the sofa and ventured into the nearby kitchen. When she opened the oven door, the most wonderful aroma suddenly wafted throughout the air. "I didn't know if you would be hungry after chopping all that firewood outside, Jeremy," Pamela said to me, glancing back over her shoulder. "But I made nachos just in case."
Kristanna was giggling. "I'm sorry. You made NACHOS? You do realize that's completely contrary to what I would imagine you would make - if I did not know you any better?"
Pamela straightened and eyed her, clearly enjoying the banter. Their banter. It was priceless. I could listen to these two verbally go at it all day long. "And what do you imagine I would make after Jeremy works so hard outside?"
Pamela took a step into the central room and tossed the pot holder at her, drawing a laugh from Kristanna. "I'm not that straitlaced and uptight, Krissy."
"You're saying you don't secretly sleep with your little Kindle clutched tight to your body?" The innocent look Kristanna gave Pamela only earned her the second pot holder.
"Surprisingly, I do not," Pamela said proudly. "And I happen to love nachos with lots and lots of cheese. Nothing is ever going to change that about me."
"I don't want you to change anything about yourself." At the comment, the smile faded from Kristanna's face and their eyes locked for a moment. "You're perfect the way you are."
Suddenly blushing like mad, Pamela pulled her eyes away and went into action without a response, busying herself as she secured plates, napkins and forks for us. She seemed to go quiet like this whenever caught off-guard; it was one of Pamela's little quirks. All of us were used to it by now.
Kristanna settled even deeper into the comfortable sofa and watched her, clearly entranced by the way Pamela's thick, ore-gold bright hair swished across her back as she moved, how those denim jeans seemed to hug and amplify her awesome curves, and the fact that the V of her neckline showed a touch of delicate skin, but not nearly enough. Of course, Kristanna was not the only one admiring Pamela.
"For our snacking pleasure," Pamela said to Kristanna and yours truly, placing a tray on the coffee table full of hot tortilla chips covered in gooey cheese, diced tomatoes, and topped with a touch of sour cream.
Kristanna stared at the plate of amazing food. "I don't know what I did to deserve this, but I'd like to thank the universe and dairy farmers everywhere."
Pamela's mouth fell open. "You can start by thanking me, the big-hearted person who made them for you. Last time I made some, Amy said it was Nacho-Porn."
"Because they're sinful?"
"Something like that."
"Pamela," I offered in my most sincere tone.
"Thank you for my Nacho-Porn," I told her, smiling.
Pamela laughed and shook her head. "Oh, you're welcome, Jeremy." She again settled on the sofa, directly next to Kristanna, and promptly fed her a delicious nacho chip. "These are okay to have," Pamela reminded her, patting Kristanna's eight month baby bump at the same time. "The cheese is pasteurized, so its safe. You just don't want to have too many because of all the calories and sodium."
"This cheese is amazing," Kristanna managed, sinking into its wonder. Indeed, Pamela made delicious nachos. I had certainly never tasted any better in my life.
"It's because of the secret mixture."
Oh, Kristanna was suddenly intrigued. "You have a secret mixture of nacho cheese?"
"I do," Pamela said glowingly. "It's one of my bigger accomplishments in life."
Kristanna sipped her iced tea and studied Pamela over her glass. "And are you willing to share this secret?"
Pamela shrugged. "Depends on what you're willing to give me in return." Kristanna raised an eyebrow at her and Pamela laughed. "I didn't mean it THAT WAY!"
"If you say so," Kristanna conceded. "How about this? I will collaborate with Amy tomorrow and we will make your absolute favorite - key lime pie." Pamela's brown eyes flashed with delight, clearly accepting those terms, then Kristanna suddenly demanded, "Now put out."
Pamela nodded. "Deal. It's a mixture of sharp cheddar, Monterey Jack, but here's the kicker. Are you ready? It's kind of major I'm sharing this. I've never shared it before."
"Fontina. Boom." Pamela made a firework gesture with her hand and sat back as if her work here was done.
Kristanna laughed, clearly because Pamela was adorable. "I should write that down. And you should do that firework thing again sometime. It could be your signature move."
"Psssssh. I have better moves than that."
Kristanna raised a playful eyebrow and Pamela held her gaze knowingly. The energy between them was off the charts right now. Indeed, I could just sit back and forever listen to them. Pamela was in a really relaxed, flirtatious mood. Their ongoing dialogue was engaging and fun. Kristanna stole a chip from Pamela's plate, clearly enjoying the moment.
Pamela was right there with her, plucking her own chip from the pile as the cheese clung and pulled apart in lavish strands. Kristanna watched her closely; it was impossible not to. The delicate way Pamela tried to make sure the cheese made it into her mouth, coupled with the look of sheer enjoyment once it did, was an awesome combination.
"You and your nachos are cute," Kristanna offered.
Pamela paused, another chip in midair. "We are?"
"You are. You love them."
"I do love them," Pamela nodded. "And while I have been called cute before, no one has ever referred to my nachos as being cute. You, my dear Krissy, are the first."
"I've proven to be the first of a lot of things for you," Kristanna murmured, reaching over and gently running her thumb across the tiny dot of sour cream on Pamela's bottom lip. She then placed that thumb in her own mouth, tasting the sour cream. "It's starting to become a routine trend."
Pamela stared at her, seemingly struck. She had been caught off-guard yet again - that much was clear. Kristanna responded by simply giggling and popping another nacho.
A short time later, I tossed a few logs into the fireplace and started a flame. Pamela was quick to critique me, though, insisting that I use more firewood and old newspaper. She could definitely be a straw boss at times.
"You like to be in control of things, Pammy," Kristanna chortled. "That much, I am sure of."
"What? And you don't?"
Kristanna placed the side of her face upon Pamela's shoulder and sighed contently. "I think we can both agree that I'm a little more go-with-the-flow than you are."
"That's true," Pamela nodded. "You do your laundry on whatever day of the week you want. It's barbaric."
"Yeah, well ... don't tell anyone."
Pamela sat up a bit taller. "Sunday is the one and only day to wash clothes. There is no better day."
"Of course there isn't," Kristanna mused. "And on the seventh day, God did laundry. Everybody knows this."
Pamela giggled. "You're teasing me again."
"I have to. You know this. It's my job."
As the three of us settled even deeper to our late lunch, I could not help but to smile. The banter back and forth was so easy and friendly. Kaden and Piper were napping, so Kristanna and Pamela (as well as myself) had a brief reprieve from trying to keep up with them. The rest of the children were all being looked after by their respective mothers throughout the house. And God, the nachos were delicious. Pamela should open her very own nacho shop. Pamela's Nachos. She would most assuredly rock nacho sales.
As we continued to eat, Kristanna kissed Pamela on the cheek and declared, "I dare you to change it up."
Pamela turned and looked at her, totally confused. "Huh? You dare me to change what up?"
"Do your laundry tomorrow - Friday - this week."
"What?" Pamela scoffed, holding back a laugh. "You mean take a walk on the wild side with you?"
"You might like it," I teased Pamela.
"Maybe. Maybe not. I happen to enjoy my life and routine the way it is. I hate change. Change is bad, confusing."
Kristanna stared back at Pamela in challenge. I made note of the fact that Kristanna's eyes were one of her most striking and prominent features. Big and the softest blue imaginable. As tough as Pamela was, as strong willed as she likened herself to be, there was no way she could deny those beautiful eyes.
"Fine. I'll swap my laundry day. Just this week only."
Kristanna was grinning. "Can I get that in writing? Can I? Little Miss Pammy-Pants willing to break her routine?"
Pamela gasped. "You have to stop or I will be forced to kill you. This is embarrassing enough as it is." Yet Pamela was laughing, and that was all that really mattered.
"You can't kill me. You adore me."
"This is true," Pamela nodded. "It's your saving grace."
Suddenly, Kristanna seemed utterly captivated. "You know something, Pammy? You bite your lip when you're happy."
"No, I don't," Pamela insisted, releasing her lip and shifting her gaze elsewhere for a moment.
"Okay. But you just did, so there's that."
That earned a subtle smile from Pamela.
"And you've been going barefoot a lot more at home lately than you have in the past," Kristanna added.
"It's sexy as hell," Kristanna told her with a shrug.
"You think me being barefoot is sexy?" I could easily tell that Kristanna had flipped a switch inside of Pamela. It happened nearly every time they were together.
"Yeah," Kristanna replied, nodding. "You without shoes is killer. There's something laid-back and relaxed about it that I love on you." Then Kristanna popped another nacho chip and crunched it down as if she was in the most casual mood ever.
"Krissy?" Pamela muttered in a deep tone, seemingly ready to seize control and go after what she wanted.
"I'm not sure what you're feeling, but I'm no longer in the mood for nachos."
"Is that so?" Kristanna asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "What ARE you in the mood for?"
"Other things," Pamela said, as her gaze dropped decidely to Kristanna's mouth. It was not like she could have helped it. And really, what was the point of hiding that? Because ever since I stepped into the house moments ago, Kristanna had done nothing but overly tease and flirt with Pamela. She had steadily pushed Pamela from the want to the need column. These two women were pure magic when together...
Kristanna set her glass of iced tea down upon the coffee table. "Maybe you could show me?"
Accepting the invitation, Pamela pushed herself up on her arms, across the small space between them on the sofa, and hovered just short of Kristanna's mouth. Pamela held there for a moment, clearly enjoying the anticipation. The vibration of electricity between them had already spiralled completely out of control.
But Kristanna did not want to wait. She pulled Pamela's face to hers and sank into a deep-rooted, needful kiss. Both ladies seemed to ignite with mutual passion as Pamela wrapped her arms around Kristanna's neck as they eased backward onto the sofa, Pamela on top, a position she rather liked.
"God, you feel so good," Kristanna managed as they shifted into each other. Her hands moved down the sides of Pamela's body as they continued to kiss with reckless abandon. Pamela was flushed, pressing her breasts into Kristanna's, who responded by cupping her ass, pulling her in firmly, eliciting a gasp from Pamela (and a few words of worry) in the process.
"Careful, sweetie," Pamela advised her. "You're pregnant."
As if reading her mind, Kristanna allowed Pamela to ease her onto her side so they lay face-to-face in a tangle of lips and tongues. And then Kristanna's hands were under Pamela's shirt, those long, delicate fingers moving up her stomach, her ribs, to her breasts. God, what a beautiful sight.
With both hands, Kristanna palmed those massive breasts together through the bra, pulling a moan from Pamela that she could not hold back. Pamela's entire body actually began to tremble as Kristanna massaged, fondled and played with her breasts. Their lips moved in a subtle rhythm now, and Pamela trailed kisses down Kristanna's chin to her neck where she licked, kissed and sucked. But then, Kristanna pushed up Pamela's bra underneath her shirt and proceeded to explore her breasts further with her hands, free of barriers. Pamela had incredibly sensitive breasts, and attention like this often sent them into complete overdrive.
"I love this t-shirt," Kristanna whispered in her ear. "But I need to take it off you now." Pamela nodded, words not readily available. But before Kristanna had the chance, there was a voice from behind us.
"Nachos? Do I smell nachos?"
Alison was tantalizingly young. Only 19 and in her first year of college, Alison - Lindsay's younger sister from Ohio - had bright blue eyes and long, wavy blonde hair to the middle of her back. With about a million bracelets decorating her teenage arm as she stood at the entranceway to the central room, Alison definitely exuded a fresh-faced, youthful vibe. She was dressed casually in blue jeans, paired with a black spaghetti-strap tank-top, and matching black sneakers.
Kristanna and Pamela were already sitting up on the sofa, having made themselves appear decent, as Alison made her way toward the coffee table. "May I?" she asked them, to which Pamela nodded. Alison snagged three tortilla chips and popped them into her mouth one after another. Clearly, Alison was oblivious to the fact that she had interrupted a make-out session between Kristanna and Pamela, which would have most assuredly evolved into a three-some including yours truly. Alison had no idea. She simply sat down upon the nearby love seat and stretched her legs outward in relaxation.
"So what's going on with the three of you?" Alison asked.
Perhaps I should not go any further before I confess that our little entourage was in the process, perhaps, of adding yet another member to the family. That would be none other than Alison, the tempting, forbidden fruit younger sister of Lindsay. It should be of no secret to long-time readers of this story that I had been wildly attracted to Alison since first meeting her in the summer of 2013. She was practically a replica of her big sister Lindsay in both appearance and personality, a literal carbon copy. Just two years younger. Everything else was the same. The long blonde hair, the tender, innocent face and the dazzling smile, the slim, tiny figure. How could I not be attracted to her?
Alison was of legal age now and, even better, she was living in our mansion. Lindsay's inner family came here for an extended visit nearly a month ago. While her mother and other two sisters returned to the United States a few days after Lindsay gave birth to Kaylee, Alison simply decided to stay here. It was a mutual decision. Alison had heard too many stories and was too intrigued by the lifestyle that her sister led, and the happiness she felt.
Alison was exploring and dabbling in an alternative to the straitlaced, religious upbringing that she had experienced. After admitting to Lindsay that she had a massive crush on me, as well as Trish, the offer was made for Alison to stay with us in our home as long as she wanted. Maybe even move in. The offer, of course, was made by Lindsay herself.
Alison had harbored a secret resentment and jealousy for Lindsay once learning of the life she led with us, and the various lovers she had. When she let those feelings finally be known, Alison was shocked when Lindsay suggested that she come to Norway with us and try to find a spot in the family. This decision was made only after Lindsay presented the idea and discussed its pros and cons with the entire family.
Alison was a good kid; she was generally well liked amongst all of the women, with several of them having made sexual remarks and comments about her over the years (without Alison's knowledge) as a way to tease and pester Lindsay. They were just as shocked as Lindsay was when Alison admitted that she had several bisexual thoughts and fantasies, though none of them had been acted upon as of yet.
Alison held a very deep attraction for Trish, it seemed. How many times in the past had Alison hooked up with Trish and Lindsay over video chat on the Internet while playing their online games together? Trish was not afraid to show her love and affection for Lindsay even with a web-cam trained on her and Alison watching their every move 4,000 miles away across the ocean. While nothing they did was graphic on camera, Alison got a first-hand taste of how her sister was loved and cared for, and got to know Trish in the process through friendly and routine chatter. Actually, it would be safe to say that those chats made Alison fall in love with Trish.
On a purely personal level, I suppose I could have Alison whenever I wanted her. God only knows that she had gone to every length in recent weeks to express her attraction and desire to be with me. It would probably happen eventually, but I had held back and not taken that gigantic leap of faith just yet. Something about the idea - oh, I don't know - of hooking up with my wife's sister ... well, it seemed off.
But that wife, Lindsay, was fully supportive of the idea. She wanted Alison to commit to our family and became a lover, a wife, just like everyone else. Lindsay wanted Alison to be able to experience the same love and happiness that she felt, because it was, without question, the greatest feeling in the world. Lindsay was prodding me to take that initial step, trying to get me to agree to have sex with Alison.
But even more than that, Lindsay clearly had visions, down the road, of wedding bells and screaming babies for Alison and yours truly. The idea seemed so incredibly wrong to me; my instincts were screaming at me to back off, to step away.
Yet, my resolve was fading. Much like her sister, Alison seemed enamored with the idea of an older man, such as myself, providing her with the guidance and stability that she seemed to crave. With us, Alison would never have to worry about a boyfriend cheating on her again. There would be no rumors or gossip, no jilted ex-lovers, roaming around the campus. There would be no lies, no deceit; we did not operate that way. She would be taken in and loved, cared for, most likely given anything and everything her little heart had ever desired.
My wife's sister. A forbidden attraction, indeed, but how could I continue to deny this essence of youth and purity much longer? Alison had openly flirted with me several times since Lindsay hsd offered her a spot in our family. At times, it seemed as if she was pleading with me to have sex with her.
You know, as I think about it, being married to eight women instead of seven certainly does sound more appealing...