Their Wonder Years: Season 1: Fall 1998
Copyright© 2025 by Tantrayaan
34: The Third Kiss
Coming of Age Sex Story: 34: The Third Kiss - Bharath always thought going to America would mean fast love, wild parties, and maybe a stewardess or two. What he got instead? A busted duffel bag, a crying baby on the plane, and dormmates he never thought could exist in real life. Thrown into the chaos of Georgia Tech’s freshman year, Bharath begins an unforgettable journey of awkward first crushes and culture shocks. A slow-burn, emotionally rich harem romance set in the nostalgic 90s—full of laughter, lust, and longing.
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa mt/ft mt/Fa Consensual Fiction Humor School Sharing Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory White Female Hispanic Female Indian Female
The apartment had gone still after the worship.
The kind of stillness that only followed a storm - emotional, physical, spiritual. A calm not of peace, but of suspension. Of waiting.
Bharath sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees, towel clinging to his waist, eyes fixed somewhere far beyond the walls. His hair was still wet, dripping faintly onto his collarbone. He hadn’t moved since he sat down. Not even when Mia padded past him wearing only an oversized tee, still flushed, still glowing from her self-induced climax. Not even when she leaned down and whispered, “Thank you,” before disappearing into Marisol’s room to change.
He hadn’t spoken a word.
Sarah was the first to notice something was off - really off. She emerged from the bathroom in loose cotton shorts and one of Bharath’s shirts, drying her hair. Her smile faltered when she saw him. She paused, watching him for a beat, then quietly walked into the kitchen where Marisol was on the phone.
“Hi Mrs. Anderson,” Marisol said, cupping her hand around the receiver. “Yes. This is Marisol - Mia’s sister. How are you? Yes it’s been a while. I will definitely pop in to see you when I come home the next time. Yes. Mia’s with me and she’s staying on campus with me until Friday. She is preparing for her AP exams. She’s got university tutoring today.”
She waited ... then nodded.
“Gracias. Yes, thank you. No, no fever. She’s just focused. We’ll send a note if needed.”
She hung up, turned - and saw Sarah’s face.
“Something happened?”
“He’s gone quiet,” Sarah said.
Marisol didn’t hesitate. She dropped the phone onto the counter and walked barefoot toward the living room, her expression shifting from logistical authority to protective softness in an instant.
They stood on either side of him now, barely making a sound. Marisol lowered herself to the floor in front of him, resting her arms on his knees. Sarah curled up next to him on the couch, leaning her cheek against his shoulder.
“You okay, baby?” Marisol asked softly.
Nothing.
Sarah traced gentle circles on his forearm. “Bharath?”
He blinked - slow and mechanical - like his mind had to climb back down into his body.
“I’m here,” he whispered hoarsely.
Marisol exhaled with relief. “Talk to us.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he said at last, his voice low and cracked.
Marisol let out a breath, waiting.
He didn’t look at them right away. Just exhaled, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the far wall. “You two already knew what was happening. You’ve been pushing this ... teasing me. Planning it. And now...”
He swallowed.
“You’re giving me permission.”
Sarah leaned in, voice soft. “We’re not just giving it. We’re offering her. Because we know she’s ready.”
“She loves you,” Marisol said. “And we love watching you with her. You could take her right now. Today. And we’d cheer you on.”
He closed his eyes.
“That’s the problem,” he whispered. “I know I could. I know she wants it-wants me. She’s already started loving you both. She’s ready to be loved back.”
“Then what’s holding you?” Sarah asked.
He looked at her then, really looked, and the vulnerability in his eyes was unguarded, raw.
“I can’t take her,” he said. “Not yet. Not unless I know what I felt with you two is there with her too. That it’s not just fire and worship and timing. You are my soulmates. I need to know that she is mine and I hers too. But I’m scared that she may not be my soulmate. I am too scared to find out. If she isn’t my soulmate, I cannot accept her. I’m scared that it will devastate her - and me. I’ve come to care for her a lot.”
Sarah tilted her head and kissed him briefly, worried on his behalf about the turmoil he was in.
He stared down at Marisol.
“She looked like you. Not her face. Her ... devotion. Her fire. That scary, beautiful hunger.”
Marisol smiled softly. “She is my sister.”
“That’s what scares me.”
He leaned back, closing his eyes, as though trying to anchor himself.
“I don’t want to break her,” he whispered. “I don’t want to break any of you.”
“You won’t,” Sarah said. “You’ve only ever lifted us.”
“But there’s three of you now,” he said quietly. “And I only have two hands.”
Marisol laughed then - short and tender. “That’s what your mouth and shaft is for, dummy.”
Sarah snorted, and Bharath cracked a tiny smile despite himself.
“We’re taking today off,” Marisol said, serious again. “We all just have one class. No deadlines. We’re staying here. All day.”
“We’re syncing up,” Sarah added. “As a family.”
That word - family - hit something deep in him.
He exhaled sharply.
“I’m not ready for this.”
“You don’t have to be,” Marisol said. “Not yet. Not today.”
Sarah smiled. “But we are.”
“Right now,” Sarah continued, brushing his cheek with her knuckles, “we just need to be together. No planning. No fear.”
“Just truth,” Marisol said. “And trust.”
They stayed there like that for a long time - the three of them in a half-circle of warmth, his pulse finally slowing, his body relaxing.
He thought he had a way to know if she was his soulmate.
“I want to talk to Mia. It’s time we find out.”
The apartment felt quieter than it had all day. Not empty - just ... expectant.
The kind of silence that waits for truth.
Bharath sat on the edge of the couch, hunched slightly forward, his elbows resting on his knees again. This time, though, his eyes weren’t vacant. They were searching.
Mia sat across from him, tucked beside Marisol on the longer side of the sectional. Her legs were curled up under her, her hair damp from her quick rinse, a blanket thrown over her bare thighs. She wore one of Bharath’s t-shirts - too big, almost falling off her shoulders - but nothing could hide the raw magnetism of her face, her posture, her quietly defiant grace. Bharath had given up trying to get the girls to stop wearing his tops.
Sarah settled behind Bharath, her arms around his torso from behind hugging him to reassure him that they were there for him.
But Bharath’s heart was a mess.
“I need answers from you Mia,” he said finally.
His voice wasn’t angry. It was low, hoarse - cracked in places like a foundation settling under weight it hadn’t expected.
“Before we talk,” Bharath said, his voice low, “I need to be sure. Last night you told me you love me Mia. I could feel that you really do. However, I need to let you know that Marisol and Sarah are my soulmates. Although I have come to care for you a lot, I am scared to take the next step with you because I don’t want to hurt you if you are not. Do you understand?”
“I do.” Mia said softly. “I’m glad you finally understood my love for you Bharath. It is a lot sooner than I thought possible.”
“I love Marisol,” he said, looking directly at her older sister. “And Sarah. You both know that.”
Marisol nodded without hesitation. “We do.”
“I’d never do anything to hurt you,” he added. “Either of you.”
“You haven’t,” Sarah whispered against his back.
“But Mia is your sister,” he said, turning his gaze back to the youngest Rivera. “That matters. It has to matter.”
“It does,” Mia said quietly.
“I still don’t understand how you’re all okay with this. With her watching, joining, eventually ... being part of this although you have given me your approval many times now. How can you be so okay about something so-so sacred between us?”
He didn’t mean to sound accusatory. But it came out that way anyway - the desperate confusion of a man who’d been pushed to the emotional edge by desire, devotion, and the raw, impossible chaos of having three women willing to share him.
“You’re not a toy,” he said. “You’re not a game. I don’t know what this is yet, but it matters. And Mia, you-” He shook his head. “You could have anyone. You’re one of the most gorgeous, brilliant women I’ve ever seen. You’re seventeen. You don’t need to ... do this. Not for me.”
Mia’s face didn’t flinch. She took it all in like someone who had already lived through the storm of her own heart and decided where she stood.
“I know I could have anyone,” she said calmly. “But I don’t want just anyone. I want someone who sees me the way you do. Who sees past all this-” she gestured vaguely at her face, her figure “-and gets excited when I talk about my study plan or my Georgia Tech application. Who believed in me before I even proved anything.”
He blinked.
“You’ve only met me a few times,” he said.
“Twelve times, technically,” she corrected. “But we’ve talked. A lot. And you listened. No guy I know listens the way you do. And when you looked at me - really looked - it made me feel ... seen. Safe. Like my brain mattered more than my body, and my body mattered because it was mine. You offered to teach me to make me better. “You’ve done everything to build me up and make me feel valued, Bharath. Your note today - when you told me you believed in me. What more can I want in a man?”
Bharath exhaled, struggling to find a way through the noise in his chest. “But it’s not just about you. It’s your sister.”
He turned to Marisol again. “How? How are you okay with this?”
Marisol let the question hang in the air for a moment. Then she spoke - slowly, clearly.
“Because I trust you, ” she said. “And I trust her.”
She looked at Mia, something fierce and proud in her eyes. “She’s not some kid with a crush. She’s been talking about you since the first night. I brushed it off at first. But the more she talked, the more I realized - she sees what I see. And if she’s serious - if she’s willing to earn her place - why should I say no just because we share blood?”
Bharath opened his mouth to protest, but she wasn’t done.
“I don’t see Mia as competition,” she said. “She’s family. She’s mine. And honestly? If anyone’s going to touch what we’ve built, I’d rather it be someone I love.”
Sarah chimed in from behind him, her voice a soft current against his skin. “We’ve already crossed the impossible line, Bharath. We’re a throuple in Georgia. That’s taboo enough. If we’re going to keep building something out of this ... maybe it’s okay to ask different questions. Not ’why add one more?’ but ’what makes her worthy of joining?’”
He looked at Mia again. “And what makes you think you are?”
Mia didn’t take offense. She nodded slowly.
“Fair question,” she said. “I don’t know if I am yet. But I’m willing to find out. I want to earn your love, not steal it. I want to be someone Marisol can still be proud of. Someone Sarah can lean on. Someone who makes this family stronger, not messier.”
Bharath’s throat tightened again. He looked down.
“But what about your mother?” he asked softly.
That brought a shadow over all three girls’ faces.
“Mami is ... not ready,” Marisol admitted. “She barely accepted me being with you. I haven’t told her about Sarah. Let alone anything beyond that.”
“She’d lose it,” Bharath said.
“Yeah,” Mia whispered. “She would.”
“Then how is this okay?”
“It’s not,” Mia said honestly. “Not yet. But love isn’t always about what’s okay. It’s about what’s real. What lasts. And when the time comes, if I’m still worthy ... I’ll stand by your side. Even if it means facing Mami. Even if it means she never accepts it.”
Bharath looked at all of them again.
His heart was pounding.
“I don’t want to ruin your family,” he said. “I don’t want this to end with your mom hating you. Or you resenting each other. Or me losing all of you.”
“You won’t,” Marisol said, sliding onto his lap, straddling him gently. “You’ve made this family. You just don’t see it yet.”
Sarah curled closer, her lips grazing his neck. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”
“And only if you want this,” Mia said softly. “I can wait. Years, if I have to. Actually no I can’t. I want you now.”
He looked at her. Really looked. And at that moment, she didn’t look like a teenager. She looked like a woman with fire in her soul and steel in her spine.
He wanted to try one more thing to really test her love and resolve. Something he knew that both his soulmates would never balk from.
“I don’t want to wait for years Mia. If you are mine, we will find out today.I think I know how to find out if you’re mine and I’m yours Mia but are you ok to share me with Sarah and your sister? They are more than just my lovers. They are mine - mind, body and soul.”
She swallowed hard, hopeful and electrified at the same time that she could actually belong to him tonight. He would be hers and she his - she was certain. She was ready to do anything he asked of her to prove that she was his soulmate.
“You moaned watching me take your sister. Watching Sarah choke and beg. You got off on watching me break them open. But that doesn’t mean you’re ready. I need to see it. I need to know if you can join.”
Mia swallowed hard.
A flicker of something darted across her face - not fear exactly, but a reckoning.
This wasn’t just about proving her desire.
He was asking her to do something she’d never even imagined doing - not with women. Not with her sister. Not with Sarah, whom she adored but had never seen that way until now.
Am I really going to do this?
But when she looked up - when she saw Sarah’s face, open and gentle, full of reverence - and Marisol’s gaze, proud and serene - there was no awkwardness. No doubt. Only welcome.
They weren’t doing this for thrills. They weren’t titillated or shocked.
They were honoring a ritual.
And then Mia saw Bharath’s face.
The way he looked at her - like she was the moon and the firelight at once, like this moment mattered more than anything else in the world - and her breath hitched.
That was all she needed.
For him, she thought.
She would do anything for him.
Even this.
Especially this.
Mia turned to Marisol and Sarah. Her heart thudded against her ribs like a caged bird. “I want to. I want to be yours. All of yours.”
Sarah took her hand gently, brushing her lips over her knuckles. “Then let us show you.”
Marisol stepped behind her, warm hands sliding up Mia’s sides, under her top. “Let us undress you, hermana. Like a gift. For him.”
They moved with aching slowness. Mia let them peel the hoodie from her arms, the tank top from her chest. Her nipples tightened as the cool air kissed her skin - but it was their gaze, and the heat of his, that made her shiver.
Sarah dropped to her knees first, pressing a kiss to Mia’s sternum. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, before glancing back at the couch. “He’s watching.”
Marisol knelt too, dragging down her shorts and panties in one smooth motion. Mia stepped out of them, flushed and naked, trembling but upright.
On the couch, Bharath sat like a king - legs spread, eyes molten, and an approval already on his lips. One of Sarah’s hands reached for him, wrapping around his length as if to mirror Mia’s rising devotion.
His voice was low, steady. “Make her sing.”
Sarah guided Mia to the rug. “Come here, sweet girl. Let him hear you.”
Mia’s mouth hovered between Sarah’s thighs. Her heart thundered in her ears. But the moment her tongue touched skin, and Sarah gasped, Mia felt something ignite.
“She’s doing it for you,” Sarah moaned, looking toward Bharath. “She wants you to hear how good she is.”
Behind Mia, Marisol gently stroked her hips. “Slower. Let him savor it.”
Mia pressed deeper, her tongue flicking and swirling, desperate to please. “Do you like this, Bharath?” she whispered hoarsely between strokes. “Please tell me you like it.”
Sarah cried out, hips rising. “He’s speechless, baby. Keep going.”
That sent a thrill down Mia’s spine. She moaned softly into Sarah’s core, grinding just slightly against the carpet in helpless arousal.
Marisol’s voice was honey and heat. “He’s hard for you, chiquita. Just from watching.”
“I want to be good for him,” Mia whimpered. “Please - let me make her come. I want him to see it.”
Sarah moaned louder, thighs trembling. Her body crested, her back arching as she cried out Bharath’s name - not from habit, but as offering.
Mia lifted her head, lips slick, eyes seeking his. “Did you see me, Bharath? Did I please you?”
“You did,” he said, voice like gravel and fire. “Now show me more.”
Sarah kissed her temple. “Your turn, baby.”
Marisol was already lying back, spreading her thighs. Mia crawled between them, flushed and reverent. “I want you to feel good for him too,” she whispered to her sister. “Let me prove I belong.”
As her tongue began to move, Sarah resumed stroking Bharath’s cock beside him, whispering, “She’s trying so hard for you.”
“She’s trembling,” Marisol gasped, “but she’s perfect.”
Mia moaned, licking faster. “Please tell me when she’s close. I want to see your face when she comes.”
Marisol’s hips bucked. “Now - yes, now -”
Mia pushed deeper, holding her sister’s thighs as Marisol climaxed with a cry. “She’s yours,” Marisol sobbed. “She’s really yours.”
Bharath leaned forward now, eyes locked on Mia. “Let them return the favor.”
Sarah eased Mia onto her back. “You’re doing so well, sweet girl. Let us love you for him.”
Sarah straddled her face while Marisol knelt between her legs. Their movements were practiced, reverent - choreographed not for dominance but for devotion.
“She’s dripping,” Marisol whispered. “So ready. So his.”
Mia moaned helplessly, tongue working as Sarah rocked gently above her. Marisol’s tongue found her clit, slow and precise.
“She’s about to break,” Sarah gasped. “Should we let her fall, love?”
Bharath stood slowly, stepping closer. His voice was thunder and scripture. “Make her mine.”
Mia sobbed, body convulsing under them. Her orgasm hit like a wave, endless and sobbing. Her limbs trembled as she cried out his name again and again, as if her soul were pouring out with each breath.
When they drew back, Mia’s face was glazed and glowing, lips parted.
Bharath knelt beside her.
“Look at me.”
Her eyes fluttered open. “Did I do well?”
“You did more than that,” he said. “You gave yourself.”
“I came because of them,” she whispered, tears pooling in her lashes. “But it was all for you. Everything I did was to make you want me.”
“I already do,” Bharath said, brushing his thumb over her cheek.
He stood slowly.
“Then let’s find out if you’re my soulmate Mia.”
The couch had never felt so full - not just of naked people, but of breath, warmth, anticipation. Bharath sat in the center, his muscles tight with tension that wasn’t just physical anymore.
Marisol had settled on one side of him, her head resting on his shoulder, fingers laced with his. Sarah leaned into his other side, her cheek pressed to his bare arm, her body relaxed but her eyes alert - watching.
And Mia - beautiful, radiant, maddening Mia - was curled in his lap now, light as air and yet impossibly heavy. Her thighs straddled his, one knee tucked up, her pendulous breasts brushing against his bare chest. She stared at him with those intense light brown eyes that made it impossible to lie - to her, or to himself.
He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what the right thing was anymore.
But then ... his body answered for him.
She shifted - just slightly - and his breath caught. He stiffened, and not just emotionally.
“Oh,” Mia said lightly, eyes darting down. Then she grinned. “Well well well. “Seems like at least one of your heads has already accepted me ... again.”
“Mia,” Bharath muttered flushing, “I’m sor-”
Marisol snorted. Sarah outright laughed, burying her face in his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” Mia said, teasing but sincere. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m ... honored.”
She leaned in, arms wrapping around his neck. He expected playfulness, more teasing - but what he got was something entirely different. She rested her head against his collarbone, breathing him in like she needed to memorize the scent of him. She fit. Somehow, impossibly, she just fit.
He rested his hand gently on her back, stunned at how natural it felt.
“I remember when I kissed Marisol,” he said quietly.
Both girls beside him perked up.
“She pulled me close in the middle of that party, and I felt ... this spark. Like lightning in my ribs. Like someone plugged a wire into my chest.”
Marisol smiled, eyes soft. “I felt it too. And then every time we kiss.”
Sarah leaned in, kissing his jaw. “And me? It was in our bedroom the night after midterms ended. My whole body lit up for the first time.”
He looked at Mia now, heart pounding.
“I need to know,” he said. “If it’s the same with you.”
Mia blinked.
“You mean ... kiss me?”
He nodded. “I don’t know what the future holds. But I know what I felt when I kissed them. If it’s different with you ... maybe that’s my answer.”
Mia pulled back just enough to see his face. Her eyes shone - not with smugness, but with awe. With longing.
She nodded once.
Then slowly, reverently, she leaned in.
Their lips met.
It wasn’t a wild kiss. It wasn’t messy. Or hungry. It was deliberate.
A question disguised as a whisper against lips.
And when it landed, when their mouths found each other, the answer didn’t whisper back. It roared through their bodies like wildfire catching in dry grass.
Bharath gasped softly against her mouth.
Mia trembled.
Her world - the one where she’d kissed boys behind bleachers, flirted on impulse, played with hearts like they were trinkets - shattered. All those memories dissolved like smoke in sunlight. Because none of them had touched her like this.
Not with lips. Not with her soul.
It felt like every nerve in her body had been threaded through her mouth - and Bharath, in his tenderness, was plucking them like harp strings.
Her breath stuttered. Her fingers gripped his shoulders. And in the half-second their lips parted, she whispered:
“Holy... shit.”
Her voice cracked with awe. With disbelief.
“Did you ... feel that?” she asked, like she wasn’t even sure she had spoken aloud.
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