Chapter 1

Haley’s turn:

“Dad’s got a harem, you know...”

“Huh?!?” I blurted. We were in the kitchen. She’s at the cutting board, chopping onions and garlic and I’m browning some ground beef, heading towards the sauce for the construction of a lasagna.

“He does.”

“Where’d you get that?”

“From the Internet. According to stuff on there, he’s got a harem.”

“Haven’t we had this discussion before?”

“You don’t think so?”

“Uh, nooooo,” I said. “First, I looked it up, too. The porn definition is THREE girls. You mean a lot to me, but you’re just one girl. I’m just one girl. Bill’s got TWO of us. Not a harem.”

“But...”

“But, nothing. Bein’ compared to porn cheapens us.”

“Well...”

“Okay. PMS, huh?”

“A day or so.”

“Then you start on your pills.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” she said. “You know entirely too much about me, you know...”

I giggled. “Seen every sweet inch, up close. Tasted most of ‘em.”

“Stoppitttt!” she squealed. “I’m workin’ with a knife. I lose concentration, I lose a finger...”

“Don’t do that. I LIKE your fingers.”

Bill had been outside constructing the new herb beds, replicating what we’d had at the old house. He came in, a bit dirty from his efforts, bent over and gave each of us a little kiss.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Deena thinks you have a harem,” I said.

“Again? We’ve had this conversation. You’re not wearing those filmy harem pants...”

“Haleyyyyy!” she squeaked.

“Don’t whine,” I laughed. “It’s not one of your attractive looks.”

“Y’all play nice,” he chided, knowing exactly how serious the conversation is. “And I’m short one girl for a harem. Y’all gonna put an ad in the paper to recruit?”

“Da-adddd,” Deena squealed. “Really?”

“Nope. I got more than my share here already.”

He looked at me, then Deena. “Uh ... period?”

“In a day or two,” she said.

“Baby, you get a bit more tender and nervous...”

“I knowwww ... You ready for this stuff, Haley?”

“Yep.”

She dumped a pile of chopped veggies into my sizzling pot, then got a bigger pot out to boil water for the pasta.

The boiling water wasn’t a bad thing to add to the house, what with the blustery, cold day outside.

“Little bit nasty to be outside working,” Bill said.

“You could’ve waited.”

“Nah ... when weather starts warming up for spring, we’ll have stuff. I’m gonna go wash off.”

“By yourself?”

“Just to get the manure off. We can still shower together later.”

“Okay, Dad. Thought all that ‘harem’ talk had killed your libido,” Deena chirped.

“You two would stir up the libido on a marble statue,” he said, walking off.

Sauce simmering, cheese grated, we’re waiting for water to boil. Bill walks back in, smelling and looking easily as delicious as home-made lasagna. Said so.

“I’m flattered,” he said. “It’s a very good lasagna.”

It was. We ate well, with a salad added, for dinner, and we froze three meals worth for future use.

Being domestic is its own reward. We have a clean, cozy family place.

The evening started out with bookwork for me. Yeah, I know it’s Christmas break, but this book’s gonna be first on my list when the professor returns to campus. Deena’s doing similar. Bill’s sitting in the recliner, reading. The TV’s on, something without yelling and explosions, just background noise.

And clothes. We showered and now we’re all wearing some version of night clothing. The days of nudity are gone. Since we moved to the new house and we have neighbors who’re likely (somewhat) to visit, we decided that clothing is prudent.

Loose, comfortable clothing. In Bill’s case we demanded that he NOT use hospital scrubs for pajamas.

“Why not? They’re comfortable and I have a stack of ‘em.”

“No fly,” I stated.

“Yeah ... too hard to get into. Poor access,” Deena giggled.

She and I do big oversized nightshirts. Panties? Usually not.

Deena’s curled up with her book on the arm of the overstuffed chair, one foot pulled underneath her, exposing...

“Deena, your pussy’s showing.”

“So what?”

“I think it’s disturbing Bill.”

“Not intentionally...” she snickered.

“Doesn’t have to be intentional,” he said.

“I distinctly remember hearing that if it’s hard, it’s ours,” I said.

Deena was already pushing Bill’s knees apart, giggling while she did it. “Just a little one.”

“Suppose I want a whole one. Full-sized.”

“Then we need to move this to the bedroom.”

“It’s a little early. By the time you two finish killing me, it’ll be eight-thirty.”

I kissed him. That still causes tingles, just like the first ones. Deena tucked his erection back inside his pajamas and gave it a gentle pat, then she insinuated herself into the big recliner with me and Bill.

“It’s supposed to be like this. This part, I mean,” she said.

“Yeah...”

“We’re supposed to look forward to sharing this part of us, making each other happy,” Deena sighed. “You know, I don’t think Mom exactly gets it.”

“What makes you say that?” Bill asked.

“Well, we were having one of those mother-daughter moments, the last visit I had, you know, where she asks me if I’m dating and all that, and she was giving me advice as to what guy’s’d try. I don’t think she gets it.”

“Gets what?” I prodded.

“The whole idea that two...” she paused, looked at ME,” ... or three people can see this whole physical relationship as so wonderful, so rich...”

“It is,” I said. “When it was just me and Bill, and now, with extra Deena. But Mom says that we’re fortunate...”

“Your mom knows about US?!?” Deena blurted.

“You KNOW she doesn’t. She worried that YOU would be in the way of me and Bill, but I told her you knew how to give us private time. But she said that SHE really enjoys sex with Mister Steve, and when she sort of knew what was going on between me and this guy, she said that if I used sex as a weapon I deserved to get dumped on my ass.”

“Y’all DO use sex as a weapon,” Bill said. “Mostly a tranquilizer gun.”

“We ALL do that, baby,” I said. “You’re the best sleeping pill there is. So is Deena.”

“We’re happy with each other,” Bill said. “None of us has an agenda outside this marriage that isn’t right on track with the other two of us.”

Snuggling is something we do as a family. We actually DO watch some TV, but I’m keeping an eye on the clock and when it hits eight I turn my head and bite his ear.

“Somebody needs eating,” Bill said.

“That would be me...” I replied.

“And me,” Deena added, giggling. “And you might get eaten in the process. Collateral damage.”

The three of us walked through the house turning off lights, checking doors, leaving the light on in ‘Deena’s bedroom’.

And OUR bedroom.

I must’ve done something to trigger them because next thing I knew I was face-down on the bed with TWO bites on my butt.

As we say in this house –”Good start!”

I was devoured by two people who love me to bits.

I squealed when I came, lost consciousness, woke up with Bill on my right and Deena on my left, hands gently caressing me.

“We thought it should be YOUR special night,” Bill said.

“Why?”

“Just ‘cuz,” Deena said. “You sort of glued us all together. We love you.”

Wasn’t the only orgasm this night, but I firmly believe it was the best.

The next morning after breakfast the three of us trooped across the runway. For Bill, it was to the office. For us, it’s to the lab.

TWO articulated arms. Fun to play with, quite adept, and useful. At least as strong as a representative four year old. That was our original goal. We’re doing relatively small platforms, so strength is limited due to weight limitations.

However, MARRIED Carl and Sunny came back from their Arkansas project, both looking unusually smug and serene, and they brought Luggage back with them. That’s our industrial/construction robot beta test.

Luggage can do three hundred pounds of load, evidenced by giggly Sandy and Brindy sitting on his platform, commanding him to haul them around the hangar.

Sunny’s in the office working on her report and observations of Luggage on an actual job, and Carl’s chair is right across from her as he puts together the final project report.

I laugh, because they make much more happy noises together now. I stuck my head in the door and said so.

Sunny smiled demurely. Carl snorted. “Vicki said she had it figured out the first time she saw us in proximity to one another.”

“Us too. We decided it’d be a nice thing to happen.”

“Oh, it is,” Sunny inserted. “We sort of relaxed around each other.”

“Since I didn’t have to worry about sexually harassing her,” Carl laughed.

“It was a geek mating dance,” Sunny giggled. “Looking back, I remember some of his expressions and I realize now that he was dying to say something. And the whole time, so was I.”

They make a cute couple.

Now there’s FIVE of us in the lab since Brindy and Carlita and Sandy showed up.

Okay, it’s NOT gossip when the person at the center of the story is sitting there.

“So,” Brindy said to Sandy. “Your date with Matt...”

Piece of data – her face brightened when his name was mentioned. That’s one. Another was a little sigh accompanying the smile.

“Really nice,” she said. “Dinner and a movie and a walk on the lakefront.”

“No wrestling match at his apartment?” Brindy asked.

“No. I explained the limits he could expect on a first formal date. Does NOT include access to the goodies.”

“What’d his face say when you told him that?” I asked.