Chapter 47: An O’Dell Breakfast

“Hello mother. We are the last of the Babies. After us there will be no more. Tell Father that we love him and thank him for our lives.””I will and I’m sure that he’ll be talking to you like he usually does.””You know he can just dream to us like we do to the children, you and your wives.””Don’t be upset if I don’t tell him. I kind of like the way he does it now.”

Erin woke to the sounds of giggling in her head and turned to see her husband and she smiled.

I woke in a tangle of arms and legs and a mixture of blonde and very dark brown hair. When I opened my eyes I was looking directly into the deep blue eyes of my second wife. My big busted, blonde, baby making machine. My loving wife and perfect mother, Erin O’Dell.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” she said softly as if trying to not wake our other wives.

“Good morning to you, Sweetie,” I replied as softly.

“I’m pregnant.”

“I know.”

“Did the Babies dream to you too?”

“No. You told me last night.”

“The Babies dreamed to me last night and told me they were the last of them, that there would be no more, and to tell you that they love you and to thank you for their lives.”

Tears began to run down her cheeks as she spoke. I wiped a few away with a finger and she returned the favor to me. I didn’t even know I was shedding tears.

“Thank you for my babies, Paul.”

“And thank you for mine,” came a soft voice from behind me.

“And for mine, Terry,” said Blossom.

“Did the Babies dream to you two also?” I asked.

“No, we heard what Erin said,” Lynn replied.

I looked at Lynn and asked, “Are you OK with no more babies for you?”

“Yes, Paul. I’m fine with it. I’ve had more than I ever thought possible and I’m ... I think the best word is, satisfied. I can’t imagine my life being more fulfilled. Now I’m just going to sit back and watch them grow.”

I nodded to her and gave her a kiss. Blossom crawled over Lynn and gave me a kiss before crawling over Erin and me to the side of the bed nearest the bathroom.

“I’m going to take a shower and start on the French toast. I’m trying something new.”

“What’s that taking a shower and not having sex with one or more of us?”

“No, Miss Strawberry Patch. You’ll just have to wait and see. I’ve been working on this for a couple of days.”

Blossom got out of bed and wiggled her little butt cheeks all the way to the bathroom door. She kindly closed it before turning on the light so she wouldn’t blind us. I moved my hand and slowly traced circles around Erin’s huge left nipple, collecting the drop of nectar that always seemed to be present. I put the fingertip in my mouth for a long moment.

“How long should we let her shower alone?”

“This is long enough. I’ll go and wash her back,” Lynn said.

“I thought that was Erin’s area of expertise,” I declared.

“Lover, we wash each other’s backs openly and freely,” Lynn corrected.

Lynn rolled away from me, pausing to kiss Erin and me. I hugged Erin a little tighter and began kissing her neck and shoulder.

“Mmmm ... That feels nice,” she said before wiggling her pillowy ass and capturing my erection between them.

“Mmmm ... That feels nice.”

“Copycat.”

“Sexy ass.”

“Kiss me and then let’s go and get a shower and see what our mad scientist of a wife has concocted this morning.”

I did as Erin requested, for several minutes. Turning to roll to the side of the bed, Erin stopped me and said, “Good bye, Mr. Dick.”

“He’s not going to be far away.”

“I know but he’s going to be farther than I like.”

I stood and waited for Erin to follow. I offered my hand and she took it. When she stood up she hugged me, again, and kissed me, again. We went into the bathroom and found Blossom already drying off with help from Lynn. We walked into the shower, the hot water still raining down from the overhead shower-head.

“I’m going to start getting the children up,” Lynn said.

“And I am going to get to work on breakfast,” Blossom added. “Take your time coming down. Unless you want to help Lynn with the children. They are such a rowdy group in the mornings.”

“Right, a regular mess of Visigoths!” Erin said. “Come on Sweetie, let’s get washed up and help with the children. Besides I think my little giants are going to be very hungry.”

“I love your giants.”

“I know and they appreciate it.”

Blossom finished drying and wrapped a towel around her head and headed out of the bedroom. Lynn dried and gave Erin and me and loving smack on the ass before she headed off to Margaret Erin’s room. It was Margaret Erin’s job as eldest to help wake the next younger group of children, who, in turn, woke the next youngest and so on. By the time the youngest were awake, at least two parents were there to take care of the ones still in diapers and still needed to be nursed or bottle fed.

This morning word of a special breakfast must have gotten out because Margaret Erin was leading a line of girls into my bedroom and to the shower.

“Daddy, we’re in a hurry this morning so we’re going to use the huge shower. OK?”

I had to quickly stop to think if we’d left any sex toys out for the kids to mess with. Remembering none, I said, “Go for it, my little love.”

With only a modicum of suppressed giggles, the line of little girls all walked to the shower. The boys were in their own rooms washing up. I went with Erin and fed Abby Erin and Blossom Lynn with bottle breast milk while Elizabeth Lynn and Diane Erin got it from the source.

I’d always thought that the wives nursing slings would only work for the women but one day Lynn pointed out that I could wear them if I wanted to feed two children at the same time. Since then I’ve been feeding two at a time. Being able to walk around, holding a bottle in each hand was convenient. The only hard part was when I had two loaded diapers and had to put up with the least stinky while changing the worst.

Erin and I walked down the stairs and found the dining room table set up for breakfast. We looked at each other wondering what was up. The older children were running shuttles bringing out glasses and plates and utensils. A large bowl of butter appeared as did several shakers of cinnamon and sugar that we’d often sprinkled on toast. Eight small pitchers of maple syrup were placed on the table.

“Pancakes?” Erin asked.

“No idea,” I said. “Blossom said she’d been working on this for a couple of days. She wouldn’t be doing that for pancakes.”

“True. Let’s go look.”

I followed her towards the kitchen when she suddenly stopped and I squashed my stomach and penis against her back.

“You go first.”

“OK. Is there a reason why?”

“Yeah, you always walk behind me to stare at my ass and I want to stare at yours for a change.”

“Oh ... OK.”

I moved in front and gave my ass a little extra shake for her.

“Hey! I never flop my ass around extra for you. Walk normal. Besides if you’re going to wiggle like that, walk backwards so I can watch your package swinging around.”

“Sexist!”

“Yup, I’m in this marriage strictly for the dick and the pussy.”

“And my cooking,” Blossom said as we entered the kitchen to the smell of heaven.

The air was full of cinnamon and eggs and vanilla. We walked in and saw the big rack that Blossom used to place bread when she was stalling it for French toast. It had a couple of dozen of her large cinnamon rolls on it and I knew we were in for a treat.

“Are you going to do what I think you are?” I asked hopefully.

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“Cinnamon roll French toast?”

“Got it in one, Terry!”

“Really?” Erin asked sounding like a little kid.

“I’ve been wanting to try it since mom and dad took me to Disneyland in California and someone sent us to this restaurant in Mission Viejo. They made the biggest cinnamon rolls I’d ever seen and they brought them to our table steaming hot. Then they drizzled on the glaze and I thought I died and gone to heaven. When we were leaving, I noticed all the rolls sitting on a rack out in the open. I asked the server why they were out there and she told me they were letting them go stale to make French toast.

“When I asked why they wanted the rolls to be stale and dry, the server said because the dry rolls absorbed the egg and cream mixture they were dipped in better. I looked at my mom and dad and asked if we could stay longer and try some of the French toast. They agreed and I’ve been wanting to do it ever since.”

“Well then what can we do to help?” Erin asked.

“I need someone to slice the rolls into two equal halves.”

“I’ll do it!” Erin screamed. “Pick me! Pick me!”

Blossom and I stopped and looked at our blond wife’s huge breasts flailing about as she jumped up and down with her arms in the air. I looked at Blossom and she at me, we smiled and shrugged and Blossom said, “Erin, would you mind slicing the rolls?”

“Really? Yes!” She exclaimed loudly followed by more jumping and breast flailing.

“ERIN!” Blossom said, raising her voice. “Please just sliced the rolls.”

“Yes, Baby,” Erin said, immediately calming down.

“She can be such a goof sometimes,” Blossom declared, looking at me.

“Sometimes?”

Blossom laughed and went back to mixing the eggs and cream. Lynn and I began to check the set up the children had been doing and it seemed that all was ready except for the French toast. That was when I heard the sizzle of something wet hitting our hot, cast iron, griddle. It covered the entire cook top of our six-burner stove.

I took a sip of my coffee and watched as all of the children’s noses opened up and sniffed the air. The smell of the French toast cooking on the huge griddle was wonderful and soon the first platter full of toast was on the table and the older children were placing a slice on the plates of the youngest. They helped with butter, the cinnamon and sugar shakers, and the maple syrup. By the time the youngest were served the second platter of toast was in the table and the process was restarted for the kids in the middle ages.

Blossom had the third platter ready for the older children and the Herd tore into it with a passion. Blossom finished a fourth platter and brought it to the table so whoever wanted seconds could have them. She did a fifth platter for the last of the Herd’s seconds and then a sixth platter for the adults.

“Thank you Blossom Mom!” Margaret Erin said loudly followed by a chorus of the same from the rest of the children that could speak. Lynn and Erin had been feeding small pieces of toast to the infants who could chew and I was doing bottle duty on the four new babies in their seats next to the table.

When all of the children had been fed they cleared their places and then headed to the family room to attack the Scrabble boards. Blossom took her seat at the table and I served her a cup of coffee and saw to it that she didn’t have to do a thing. I even cut up her slices of toast.

“My God, this is so good,” she said after the first mouthful. “I wonder if I can make it better.”

“Judging by the way everything disappeared I would say that you should just go with what you got. I think it tastes wonderful. We may have to have a monthly cinnamon roll French toast breakfast. Maybe add it to our BBQ’s.”

“Let’s not get carried away, Sweetie. Baby did a lot of work to set this up,” Erin said.

“I know but she did do it all by herself at her own request. Every time we offered to help she declined, politely,” I reminded my wives.

“I just wanted to make sure it was done the way I wanted the first time. I had a few goofs and I’ll be able to instruct future helpers how to miss those errors,” Blossom took another offered forkful and made yummy sounds as she chewed. “This did turn out pretty good. I’ll have to give Mom the recipe so she can fatten Dad up a little more.”

“What? You don’t think Bill is already not fat and sassy?” Erin asked,

“Well, he’s sassy for sure, especially around you and your tits,” Blossom chuckled. “I’ll have to see how the egg and cream mix changes when we use more breast milk. If it works that will set him off.”

“Yeah, Gwen will have to work extra hard to get rid of his boner,” Erin said as a matter of fact.

“Speaking of boners,” Lynn interjected. “We have a special occasion coming up and we need to start planning.”

“What occasion is that?” I asked.

Lynn and Erin looked at me and my two heads.