Chapter 27: Happy Trio

They craved for attention and answers to a million of their questions.

They grew up asking if there were other families with kids like them. It was always painful telling them that many were gone or had left and might never find their way back.

Yet, they were assured that they were no different from others their age wherever they lived beyond the wildlands and wastelands of Farrville and Millbrook. They breathed the same air, were warmed by the same sun and stirred by the same moon.

They were learning to be smart, to provide for the family, to protect and love each other. They were taught to regard life as a gift, meant to be celebrated and most certainly meant to be lived.

They were loved, cared for and made to feel special, because a world without children would be the end of humanity.

Survival was more than just food, shelter and protection.

Seasons changed and so did they. The time was fast approaching for them to assume their own identity, their adulthood, and bring the next generation into the world.

They were the first generation of the new world, the hope for the future. It was a badge of honor, as well as a great responsibility.

Summer 2044

Matthew ate with gusto that matched his dad’s appetite. Fifi and Trish always made sure he got a second and sometimes even a third helping, especially when it came to his favorite dish, venison stew with lots of potatoes, carrots and celery. He deserved it after he had shot his first Whitetail deer just outside of Farrville in a field secluded from the road.

He was nearly fifteen with brown eyes, a thick crop of dark, unruly, windswept hair, standing almost as tall as Clark. He had broad shoulders and strong legs, a boy on the brink of manhood.

The girls were bedazzled by his good looks and often stood by the open bathroom door to watch him taking a shower, fascinated by his growing muscles rippling beneath his wet, smooth skin. Their excuse was always the same: they were waiting their turn to get under the shower, but were never in a hurry. They would pretend having a serious conversation with him, their eyes parked on his fleshy, virgin appendage that stood firmly with all the attention. He liked to impress the girls. All that it took to motivate him was an encouraging giggle from them.

Eventually, they would offer to help him wash his hair and back, always trying to outdo the other, prolonging the shower until the water pressure dropped to a trickle. The girls didn’t mind. They had accomplished what they wanted, a squeaky clean, shampooed boy ready for bed.

They were three years older than him, but that didn’t stand in their way admiring his physique and looking up to him. He spent the early morning hours giving Fifi and Trish a hand in the expanding vegetable garden. He was outnumbered and the girls loved to tease him to test their developing feminine charm, subjecting him to the occasional butt bump or squeeze. If the girls got lucky, they would go for his garden snake. A flick of his dick went a long way to keep it semi-hard with the tip of his crown peering out of its shell, trying to seek the light of day and catch a breath of fresh country air before the next round.

At first he complained, but then turned the tables on them, slapping their butts or rubbing a handful of soil on their round rumps. The girls thought it was fun when he would sneak up behind and rear end them while bending over to pull some weeds. Occasionally, Sally or Katie had to rein them in, lecturing them that work came before play. Mostly though, they appeared amused by such innocent antics.

Late in the afternoon when the sun cast long shadows, the three would wander off together to tend to a few rows of corn and then race to the stream like a bunch of jackrabbits to wash off the dirt and sweat, and frolic around some more.

On one such occasion, Clark and Joshua were in the nearby apple orchard checking up on a beehive they had discovered the previous summer during a reconnaissance and resource mission at a house on the road into Farrville. They brought it home in the dark of night and installed it in the middle of the apple orchard. Their “sting operation” was successful, but they had no idea about being beekeepers, except that they had to cover themselves from head to toe with thick clothing, gloves, and a wide brimmed hat draped with tulle fabric that Mary made from an old curtain to protect their face and neck from an angry bee or more.

The hive was alive and buzzing after a full season for the bees to build up a large enough population to gather a surplus of nectar. The apple blossoms, field peas, corn, sunflowers and garden kept the bees busy and happy, poking their heads into the bright blossoms, freely spreading pollen and assuring that the trees and plants would yield abundant fruits and vegetables. They were in paradise. Out of this energetic pursuit, Clark and family hoped to be a party to the bees’ harvest of sweet honey by late summer.

The beehive was close to the stream from where Clark and Joshua heard delightful squeals and the sound of splashing water. They quietly snuck through the corn field, past the double row of sunflowers and hid behind the thick trunk of a willow tree to see what the commotion was all about.

Fifi, Trish and Matthew were having fun, wrestling each other in the water. Trish managed to climb onto Matthew’s back like an agile acrobat and held on with both of her arms around his neck while her legs were wrapped around his waist. The heel of one of her feet was pressed against the base of his groin, which no longer sported little whiskers, but a dark shadow of kinky pubes around the rim of his eminence. In seconds his dick rose out of the water, growing to its full potential. Fifi became aware of his erection and tried to knock Trish off his back.

As soon as Trish toppled into the water, Fifi turned and tried to climb on top of Matthew, but he wrestled himself free. He still had an erection that wouldn’t go away and went into deeper water. The girls were fully aware of his condition, but kept silent about it and gave him some space to recover.

Things calmed down, and Matthew waded out of the water to lie and dry off on the flat boulder. The girls followed and stretched out next to him one on each side like two otters. Suddenly, Trish’s hand reached for and put a stranglehold on his tumescent torpedo. He twitched for a second as she slowly moved her hand over the length of his appendage, pumping it up and down, and feeling the soft skin over the hardness underneath.

“Ooh ... sturdy and handsome.” Clark though he heard her say.

At the same time, Fifi cradled his shriveled balls gently rolling them in the palm of her hand, and added “His sugar plums feel bigger, too.”

Matthew grunted as the girls fondled, squeezed and stroked his jewels, quickly producing a raging erection. It seemed they knew what they were doing.

“Just relax and we’ll take care of you,” Fifi said lovingly.

Like a typical dad, Clark had often wondered what kind of equipment his son would carry between his legs and was now in awe at Matthew’s handsome endowment. Katie thought her first-born already sported ornaments just as regal as his father’s. As the scene unfolded before his eyes, Clark was curious how his son was “holding up” under the pressure of two resolute, self-assured teenage cockteasers.

Sandwiched between them, Matthew was gasping for air and implored the girls to stop, but made no effort to extricate himself from their grip. He seemed to enjoy the pleasant feeling of having two hands fondling the engines of his sex, and was willing to be their plaything. Stretched out and with his hands behind his head, he let them take advantage of his willingness.

At once, Clark was worried about the reckless indiscretions of youth in which boys are unable to resist the female charms that girls are honor-bound to guard. Yet, quite the opposite was playing out before his eyes as the girls lay humoring the sturdy response of a naked novice, unbroken to the sport.

He could have come out from behind the trees and broken up their game of hanky-panky, but the memories of his youth as a dick-wielding male who had a hard time keeping his eyes and mind off of delectable females around him held him back. The youthful, innocent curiosity of the opposite sex was all a part of growing up driven by those pesky hormones. There was nothing shameful about it and nothing one could do to stop it, except create foolish drama that would shatter everyone’s feelings.

Trish continued pumping Matthew’s cock and within seconds he groaned and every muscle in his body stiffened, propelling his hips off the rock, as the first sign of an orgasmic fit struck him. Clark watched, amazed, as Matthew’s balls tightened and a clear fluid jetted from the tip of his burgeoning joystick, flying high into the warm summer air to splatter his chest and tense abs. The girls giggled and sat up to admire their handiwork.

Joshua was crouched behind Clark, shielded from the “mature-rated” drama unfolding by the water’s edge. He was more eager to get out of his hot clothes and join his siblings. Clark whispered his approval and in no time the boy struggled out of his clothes like they were filled with fire ants and raced butt naked to the sparkling, refreshing stream.

Clark collected Joshua’s clothes and stepped away to return to the beehive as a multitude of thoughts swirled around in his head to the tune of hundreds of busy bees. As far as he knew, Sally had once said something that made him think she knew, or at least suspected that the girls were fooling around with Matthew. Or did she say fondling? Anyway, according to Katie, girls in general start at an early age deciding who would make a good boyfriend and eventually a loving partner for life.

Fifi and Trish got along well with Matthew. It all started that first winter after they had moved down to the farmhouse. The girls preferred to play in the craft room located above the kitchen where warm air rose up through floor vents and radiated off the protrusive chimney rising from below, providing soothing warmth well into the night. The master bedroom was warmed in the same manner from the living room and hearth below.

They moved all the furniture from the craft room into the bedroom with the boy band posters and brought in the oversized vintage queen bed, footsteps and all. The girls coughed less during the night, and everybody slept better.

Three years later, they took apart the bunk bed and moved the detached twin beds in with the vintage bed for Mary and Joshua to sleep in comfort. Long before then, Matthew learned to join Fifi and Trish on the soft, sprawling bed whether it was cold outside or not. The girls loved the idea of having him close – skin to skin – in the night. Sally and Katie considered it as a sign of increasing independence and mutual consideration, and saw no reason to keep them apart. Clark deferred to their better judgment.

Deep inside, they were convinced and nourished the idea that Fifi and Trish were “Matthew’s girls,” and held out the hope that someday the three would bond as a family and do their mating dance to add more members to the Newman clan. After all, the chances of encountering young people their own age anywhere else around proved slim to none, and time was running out.

The Happy Trio, as Clark liked to call them, grew up like typical siblings, squabbling all day over the rules of some made-up game or who put more effort into a particular chore. But when night time came, they quickly hopped into bed, forgetting their quarrels of the day to listen while Daddy read or told Mary and Joshua a fascinating bedtime story.

During the hot summer nights, Fifi and Trish preferred to sleep naked and made Matthew do the same. Their bed; their rules, and he willingly gave into their demands to share the softness all around him, often pretending not to look when the girls would shift and expose their puffy folds and the mysterious flap at the top of their slits that hid their love button.

Sleeping together in the nude seemed quite normal even after Matthew reached puberty with all the tell-tale signs of early manhood. Sally or Katie would often find them the next morning their slick bodies against each other with little or no space between them as if they had Velcro attached to their skin. Other times, Matthew would be lying on his back with his stiff pole sticking up proudly, ready for a fun game of ring tossing.

Intuition told Sally and Katie that their fifteen-year-old girls were testing their sexuality and allure. Fifteen years earlier they were just as curious and horny, too.

Fifi and Trish were growing more comfortable with their sexuality, and Katie would often find them in bed diddling their pussies with Matthew next to them. Sally would just chuckle and say, “Only a dick can solve their problem.”

If anything went on under the covers, Sally and Katie were sure it was mere innocent play, teenage puppy love, tender and simmering with excitement they had yet to understand. The girls would tease and tickle Matthew, until their rough and tumble sometimes got too noisy and Clark had to use his booming baritone voice to send a warning that shook the house in order to get them to settle down.

Still, it was encouraging to know how placidly the girls regarded their relationship with Matthew. There were no feelings of jealousy or envy; no attempts to elbow each other aside or have exclusive rights to the stud in the making.

Now, Clark saw it with his own eyes in broad daylight, the uncontrollable sexual desire of the girls jacking him off, helping him to offer up his boyhood cream, and it didn’t disturb or inhibit them one bit. He sincerely hoped that they would find happiness together as a threesome. He knew how happy he was, having Sally and Katie in his life.

“So did you catch any fish this afternoon?” Clark asked when they were all seated around the kitchen table for an evening meal of potato salad and deviled eggs, discussing the day’s achievements.

The Happy Trio gave each other furtive looks before Fifi responded. “We forgot the fishing poles, and ended up hoeing most of the corn.”

Matthew’s faced turned crimson red when Clark looked at him with leery eyes and asked, “And, what else did you accomplish?”

Later that night in bed with Sally and Katie, Clark described what he had seen, and they felt it was time for him to have the talk with Matthew.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, the atmosphere around the farm was somewhat tense and awkward for the Happy Trio. Nobody said anything if it didn’t absolutely need to be said, and nobody got too close to anybody unless they needed to.

Things were much the same for the next couple of days. Clark acted as though nothing was amiss. Sally and Katie were in a cheerful mood following two nights of noisy sex which they were certain fell on sharp ears. Fifi and Trish were antsy, accidentally touching Matthew’s hands, constantly staring and smiling at him, sighing loudly when they brushed by him. The bulge in Matthew’s shorts didn’t seem to go away and looked like he had a big cucumber growing down there.

Clark admitted that his conversation with Matthew was long overdue. He called Matthew to the woodshed after the early morning chores, and sat him down for a talk. He felt the weight of fatherhood upon his shoulders having to explain to his first born son the responsibilities of manhood and the script to follow. He didn’t want to beat around the bush, but eased into the conversation slowly.

“Matthew,” Clark never called him by his full name unless it was something serious. “We need to have a man-to-man talk.

“Now, you’ve seen Bucky when he mounts the nannies with his long prick; and Blizzard sticking his red rocket into Ginger, right? Well, that’s the way most species mate for the purpose of reproducing.”

“Uh-huh,” Matthew acknowledged nodding and giving his Dad a trusting smile.

“One of these days, you too will feel the need to mate, in other words have sex, but not necessarily to make babies.” Suddenly, Matthew’s smile disappeared and he stopped blinking his eyes.

“Humans have sex mostly for emotional reasons to release their sexual tensions, stoke their passions, and reaffirm their love. I’ve noticed for some time you’re now old enough for that. Fifi and Trish certainly seem ready.”

Clark paused to let his last words sink in and see Matthew’s reaction. The boy sat there like a statue, with bulging eyes that wouldn’t stop growing.

“But,” Clark continued. “Let me first say that it is important you understand the responsibility you have as the man and the weight you carry between your legs.”

Matthew nodded his head to acknowledge his understanding, still not quite sure where the conversation was heading.

“Having sex or making love to a girl is not the same as fucking. You know what that means, right?” Clark asked to make sure Matthew was familiar with the word. “Fucking is just a physical act, but making love is a combination of physical, emotional, and mental bonding with the girl.

“It requires lots of respect and love, worshipping her, getting to know every spot on her body, touching, kissing, petting, nipping, sucking, licking, tasting, smelling, enjoying every curve, caressing her breasts, lingering there to bring her to a level of ecstasy that starts in her belly and spreads outward like ripples on the surface of water, until she purrs like a cat and melts in your arms.

“Every girl has different needs, and your eyes and ears should be in tune with the big antenna between your legs to see and hear, and provide feedback to your actions. So, when she’s moaning and breathing heavy, she is letting you know that you are doing something nice, making her feel good, making her feel ready and willing to receive you inside her, to join your bodies in the most amazing moments of your lives.”

Clark paused for a second to see if Matthew was still with him. It was hard to tell what was going through the boy’s mind as he looked a bit queasy.

“Go slow and don’t be in a hurry,” Clark continued, raising and lowering his hands in a gesture of calm and moderation. “You should also talk to them to make sure you are doing what they want or feel is good.

“You must not rush your own desire; you must build the desire in their bodies until it takes over like a fever, until they beg you to bury your hardened tool into their waiting honey bun, to merge your bodies into one, filling that special empty warm opening inside between their legs made for you.

“Now this is important,” Clark said raising a finger to make sure Matthew was paying attention. “The first time with a virgin girl may be a little difficult for you. You may feel some kind of resistance to your big invader. It’s nothing but a thin membrane near the opening called the hymen. You’re going to have to use a measure of patience and force to break through. She’s going to feel some pain, and you should stop and wait until she feels comfortable with the presence of your cock.

“Then, slowly, very slowly you will start a rhythm of gentle thrusts in and out, back and forth, maintaining a pace with the pace of your breath, gradually picking up speed to match the beats of your heart, while at the same time whispering to them, encouraging them to meet your rhythm, your pace, leading them to lose control, to go with you to the edge, to the precipice to fall together into paradise, into heaven, until they reach a climax, an orgasm, and begin to cry, invoking God, until they no longer recognize themselves and their surroundings, that one incredible moment that they and you will want to last forever.

“They will feel a thousand fireworks explode in their bodies; you will feel a growing tingling sensation around the tip of your cock and a sudden, uncontrollable pressure building deep within your balls, culminating in an eruption of semen, shooting through your cock and taking with it your very being, your seed of life, your soul to mingle with their juices and to comfort them.

“That, my son, gives you an idea of what sex is like. It is not about you; it is all about them. Pleasing them is the most unselfish act that a man can give a woman. It is like embracing your soul with theirs, worshiping their bodies, craving their sex, desiring their pleasure. It should be an expression of your love for them to be enjoyed and repeated selflessly and as often as you can.”

Clark took a deep breath, hoping his crash course about sex didn’t overwhelm the boy, yet proud of himself for having covered most, if not all the bases. Meanwhile, Matthew just sat there staring with a vacant look on his face and his mouth agape.

“Son, sexual fulfillment is one of the proper goals of life and there are many different ways or positions for a man to pleasure a woman and have sex. Bucky and Blizzard and all the other animals only know how to mate from behind. Humans do it like that, too, and it’s OK. However, most men prefer to have sex with the woman lying on her back and the man between her spread legs penetrating her vagina to join their bodies.

“Sometimes, the man will be on his back and the woman will impale herself on his cock and ride him like a cowgirl. You see, human beings are more versatile and creative. Only by doing it and doing it often will you know what’s best and what will satisfy your fantasies of being a great lover.

“I understand that this may be a lot for you to take in all at once. Eventually, it will all come pretty naturally, you’ll see. Just take your time. But, remember, you can always come to me or your mamas to ask about anything that will make you a good partner for Fifi and Trish. OK?”

There was a long silence as father and son stared at each other, mentally trying to communicate.

“Don’t worry Dad. I’m good,” Matthew said bouncing back from his daze with youthful confidence. “Remember those German books Mama found at the monastery? Fifi and Trish showed them to me a while back. It has lots of pictures that show everything about what you just explained, except of course for the feelings.”

“You mean... ?” Clark said both flustered and frustrated that he had just put himself through an emotional wringer and it wasn’t even necessary. He knew about the books. Apparently the Brothers and Sisters used them to prepare the adolescents in their charge before they sent them out in the world. They seemed more liberal in their thinking than he had ever imagined.

“Well ... anyway ... I’m glad we had this talk.”

“So how did it go with Matt this morning?” Katie asked as she, Sally and Clark sat in the living room winding down before going to bed.

“That was the most difficult conversation I’ve ever had,” Clark sighed and shook his head. “And to think I may have to do that all over again in a couple of years with Josh. Now I know why my dad never had the courage to sit down with me for a man-to-man talk. He and my mom thought that the sex education we were getting at school was more than adequate, hoping that I would turn out alright, left to my own devices.”

“But you turned out okay,” Sally quipped.

“Just okay?”

“Hmmm, can I give you a definitive answer later upstairs?”

Changing the subject, Clark was curious about what Sally and Katie had been telling the girls about the facts of life.

“Well, we only tell them things when they ask questions. That way we know they’ve been thinking about sex and are ready for the answers.”

“Of course, before they turned twelve, we had to tell them about puberty and what to expect, and that once they started having regular periods, they would be able to have babies. We didn’t tell them how that worked.”

“But then, before they turned thirteen, Sally got carried away and spilled the beans when the girls wanted to know why they felt their nipples getting hard and pointy every time Matt looked at them in a funny way. Sally told them that it was no different than when Matt’s dick gets hard and pointy.”

Clark chuckled at the comparison.

NOT A WEEK HAD passed when Clark summoned Mary and Joshua to the barn where a young nanny was about to give birth for the first time. He wanted this to be both a life lesson and one on how to take care of their animals. They had to be quiet and patient to let Nature take its course, but be ready to lend a hand, especially if the kid was coming out with its hind legs first.

Within minutes it began to rain and quickly turned into a steady, standing shower. The day had started out hot and muggy. The rain was a welcoming respite especially for the Happy Trio hilling the potatoes and doing battle with the weeds in the garden.

Clark first noticed out of the corner of his eyes Fifi and Trish running naked and free towards the barn, and brandishing a pair of Matthew’s shorts like a victory flag. They clambered up the ladder to the hayloft door, their mossy wedges betraying the mysterious mark between their legs. Matthew was close behind all naked and wet, holding his gallant bayonet like he had some urgent business to attend, releasing it just before he reached the ladder. His purple-headed rod was swollen, lolling at half-mast from side to side.

Clark just shook his head and rolled his eyes, and turned his attention to the nanny who was dealing with the occasional waves of contractions seizing her body and making her hind legs stiffen and quiver each time.

In between the patter of raindrops pelting leaves, thudding on the ground, and dripping from the roof in tiny, beaded waterfalls, sounds came from the hayloft. The kids were running around, the girls screeching apparently chasing or being chased. Mary gazed at Daddy and pointed to the ceiling. “They’re at it again,” the thirteen-year old said grinning and nodding knowingly.

Suddenly, the frenzy stopped and all was calm again, until he heard murmurs filtering down through the beamed ceiling. He strained his ears over the mellow sonance of the rain and heard Fifi say, “Oh my gosh, I think I found a pistol!”

Alarmed, he told Mary and Josh to keep an eye on the nanny as he headed for the trap door to the hayloft. He climbed the steep steps and poked his head above the opening enough to see what mischief the Happy Trio was in this time.

“Hold him down,” Fifi told Trish. Matthew was sprawled on a small pile of hay with his arms stretched above his head in total surrender.

Trish sat on his hands to keep him from wiggling free as she focused her attention on his stiff maypole. She licked her lips and brought her right hand to cup her Bermuda Triangle. Her hand moved up and down her mound; her fingers stroked her slit trying to kindle the growing fire between her thighs. Her fingers curled inward, sliding into her pussy. Matthew was still trying to catch his breath, yet showing no signs of resistance.

“You better check ... if it’s loaded,” Trish suggested between deep breaths.

Clark remained perched on the ladder feeling like a Peeping Tom watching the trio rolling in the hay. He was proud that he passed onto his son a blue ribbon standard-bearer that was becoming as big and thick as his, one that could certainly satisfy a stable of fillies, if it hadn’t already.

“It’s hard and loaded for sure,” Fifi said licking her lips and seizing Matthew’s full mast. It filled her hand completely, and she began moving it up and down his thick length, polishing his pole, until she had slipped back the foreskin, exposing his purplish cockhead.

Clark was stunned when she stuck out her tongue and began licking it like a candy cane. Matthew twitched and groaned as her tongue swirled around the crown of his cock, repeatedly brushing the sensitive spot underneath.

When she opened her mouth and engulfed his big gun, Clark was impressed and had a feeling the girls had done this before, using Matthew’s big tool like a lollipop. Fifi was enjoying it and didn’t look a bit repulsed or bored, bouncing her head over his shaft, taking a little more cockmeat each time into her mouth until her nose was buried in his pubic curls.

Matthew began thrashing on the pile of hay, lolling his head from side to side, moaning and gasping as if in pain.

“Shush now!” she snapped and slapped his hip. “I’m not going to kill you.” Then looking up at Trish, she added, “He loves this...”

She licked her lips and returned to kissing and nibbling his cock. She definitely was into it with just the right amount of passion as she took his hardness into her mouth again. Within seconds, he warned her that he was about to come. She paid no attention and increased her pace, anticipating what he had in store for her.

While Fifi was riding her mouth on Matthew’s cock, humming pleasantly, Trish was in a trance, caressing her titties with one hand, the other hand cupping the prominent mound of her pussy, rubbing the pink pearl at the top of her gash, the swell of her labia bulging thickly around her fingers. Clark felt the need to give her some pointers for her own and Matthew’s benefit like dropping her honey pot over his mouth and slowly riding his face as he tongued and tasted her muffin.

His thoughts and the scene before him were beginning to have an effect on him as the swelling in his pants became too much. He climbed down from his observation deck before he lost his balance and embarrassed himself.