We both look at her, and her face is crimson. “I mean, if Joel’s okay with it and you are, I’m not opposed.”
“Even with the risk?”
She nods, then looks at me again questioningly. And I just nod. I wouldn’t have made the suggestion if I weren’t okay with it. We want kids. If they happen, they happen, and the contributing genetic material isn’t important. It’s not like I have some burning need to pass down my genes. I just want a family with the people I love.
So, we shift positions so that Stephen can sink into Kristen while I claim his ass for the first time. I slick some more lube over both of us, just to be on the safe side, and plunge inside him.
He lets out a hiss and I freeze. “You okay?”
He nods. “Keep going,” he grits out, but I can’t tell if the tension is pleasure or pain.
I push in deeper and he groans. It’s a new sensation, and one I immediately enjoy. Slow and steady, I sink in as deep as I can, then draw back out. Once I’ve gotten into a rhythm, he hoists Kristen’s hips up a little to better angle her so that while I’m fucking him, he can drive into her.
It feels right. All the things we’d done before had been fun, and come naturally, but this…it’s different. It feels…permanent, like some invisible thread linking the three of us together in some otherworldly way.
It’s beyond pleasure, although there’s plenty of that. I’ve never felt so good in my fucking life. But I’ve got the girl of my dreams and the man we love between us. I can’t imagine anything better.
Kristen’s the first to cum again, and Stephen soon after. Not that I blame him; I know how amazing the vice grip of her cunt feels when she orgasms.
His ass is pretty damn good, too, though, and before long, I’m joining them in panting, sweating, post-coital bliss.
“I love you,” I murmur aloud, to no one in particular.
To both of them.
And the only thing that feels better than our lovemaking is to hear them echo the words back.
Epilogue
Kristen
One Year Later
“Bye, Brenna, we’ll see you tomorrow!” I wave to one of the little girls as her mom walks her off to the car, unable to wipe the giant smile from my face.
It’s officially the end of my first week as a daycare owner, and I’m in bliss.
It’s been a year since Stephen moved to town, and about two months ago, we’d converted his home into a daycare and moved him and Judy into Joel’s and my place. It was a small setup, just me for now, with five kids I’ve taken on ranging from 6 months old to Brenna, my oldest, who’s 4.
Well, Judy makes six, and I’ve definitely got my hands full. Any more clients and I’ll definitely have to look at hiring some help. But for now, things have been running smoothly and I’ve never been happier.
And that’s just work. My personal life is a whole other story.
Once Stephen gave in and we finally decided to give things a try, we learned that we’re far from the first to have feelings like these. We discovered the world of polyamory, both online and face-to-face when we discovered a local club, Ecstasia, that welcomed people like us.
We met some other “throuples,” and people in other kinds of relationship dynamics. It was honestly enough to boggle the mind. I can barely keep track of two boyfriends, and I met a woman who had seven! And all of the guys were straight, dating only her, and somehow managing to share within that dynamic. Sure, it sounds nice to have seven guys to pamper you, but on the flip side of the coin, that’s seven guys to keep satisfied.
I don’t get enough sleep as is. Not that I’m complaining.
Finally, my kids are all picked up and it’s just me and Judy left. I clean things up while Judy draws, mulling over what I should make for dinner. I don’t hear the door open, but I hear Judy’s delighted cry of “Daddy! Joel!”
I turn to see both Stephen and Joel waiting for me in the doorway. Stephen’s hands are empty in preparation for Judy launching herself at him, but Joel holds a bouquet and a balloon reading “Congratulations!”
I smile and greet them both with a kiss. “What’s all this for?”
“To celebrate your first week,” Joel says as he hands me the flowers, as if the answer were obvious, “You’re officially a business owner!”
“Well, sort of. A home business,” I correct him.