23
ELLIE
For two weeks, while our parents are away, we live like we don’t have a single care in the world. We camp out in the living room, bringing two huge mattresses from upstairs and creating a comfortable platform for us all to sleep.
I say sleep, but we hardly get any shuteye at all. By day fourteen, we’re all bleary-eyed and slightly dazed, our bodies sore and our minds exhausted.
I’ve never felt like this before about anyone. When I’m between Colby, Sebastian, and Micky, I can’t get close enough. I scratch at their skin, desperate for more contact, more weight on me, more hands holding me down, more huge cocks between my bruised thighs. They kiss me so deeply it’s as though they’re searching for some kind of answer and never quite finding it.
But they don’t give up.
They never give up.
Only when I succumb to exhaustion, do they leave me to sleep.
Micky’s dare hangs over us every moment we’re together. It pushes aside all thoughts of my mom and their dad and what’s happening to the structure of our family. It hangs over me when I watch the triplets sleep and it’s there in the recesses of my mind when I’m going through the motions of attending class and spending time with my friends because any time I’m away from my boys, I miss them.
I miss them so badly.
I let them do things to me I never thought I’d let anyone do. They explore my body with their tongues, leaving no part untouched. There’s no embarrassment when I’m letting go with one of them, and I know the other two are watching. Instead of shame, I’ve come alive through this crazy relationship we’re building on a stupid dare.
It shouldn’t be possible to feel so much about three men. I’ve never been capable of these kinds of feelings with even one man before. But the Townsend triplets own me, physically and mentally. I’m the most content, the most whole, when each of them is inside me at the same time. I’m like the sun that they orbit around. We move perfectly, like one being.
I lay against Colby’s front, my face pressed into his chest, and his cock buried deep in my pussy. “Don’t move,” he whispers. “Just relax. Seb’s going to handle everything.” His hand strokes over the back of my head, my neck, and lower over my back, soothing all the tension from me. Seb slicks cool lube over my taint, massaging slowly until his thumb has slid inside me. This is the first real intrusion there, and just one digit feels huge. Colby must sense me tensing again, but he carries on his slow stroking motion, whispering for me to relax, that they’ve got me, that they’ll never hurt me.
It’s the last part that wraps around my heart and squeezes. I know in this context that he means physically, but I wish I could believe that he means emotionally, too.
Seb pushes in another digit, twisting slowly inside me , and I grunt, the sensation strange and weirdly arousing. I shift on Colby’s dick, but he anchors me tightly against him.
“It’s going to feel so good,” he says softly. “Trust me.”
I wish I could let go of the one percent of doubt that I always have, clouding every relationship I ever build. I wish my dad hadn’t shown me that even the people who are supposed to be the most reliable and trustworthy in my life can let me down.
As Seb works me until I’m slick and ready to take him, Micky moves closer, his cock hard and ready.
Anticipation thrills up my spine.
This isn’t the first time I’m going to take them all inside me at once. Although at first, it seemed like an impossible idea, I’ve taken Micky and Seb inside my pussy at the same time and Colby in my mouth. It was the first time in my life that I’ve ever felt truly whole.
And now. This just feels like the next step.
Seb’s heavy hand rests at the bottom of my spine. “Ready, Ellie?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Colby’s arms wrap around me so tightly that he squeezes the breath from my lungs, but I love it. Here with these men, I feel like nothing in the universe can touch me.
The press of Seb’s cock against my taint is weird. I wish I could see what he’s seeing. The impossible sight of something so big trying to penetrate something so tight.
But it isn’t impossible. With the weight of his body, he eases inside me, inch by perfect inch, and I groan like an animal in heat. Colby’s body is rigid, and I realize why. He can feel every movement through just a thin barrier inside me. How he’s holding himself together, I don’t know.
“Nearly there,” Seb says. His voice is so gruff and out of control.
When I feel his thighs against mine, I know he’s done it. He’s deep inside me.
“Slowly,” Colby tells his brother, the warning clear.
I raise onto my palms, turning to Micky and looking into his hungry green eyes. “Ready?” I ask him.
With a nod, he shifts, sliding the head of his cock between my lips.
When Seb moves, my mind spins. I make a guttural and primal sound, and Micky’s hand flies to my hair, gripping to slow my movements. The sight of what his brothers are doing to me is blowing his mind.
It’s blowing mine, too, tripping switches I didn’t know existed.
Colby stays still, letting Seb do the work, and I can feel how difficult it is for him to maintain his control by the fierce grip of his fingertips on the flesh of my ass.
“Fuck,” Micky says as I gaze into his eyes, all my inhibitions and reservations sliding away. I never imagined I could be this person. I never believed I could be enough to satisfy even one man, let alone three. But I can feel each of them desperately trying to hold off their impending orgasms.
None of them will come until I’ve fallen over the precipice into sexual oblivion.
I know it’s coming. As Seb mashes my pelvis against Colby’s, my clit swells, and my pussy tightens.
“That’s it,” Colby says, shifting his hips for the first time. He nudges upwards, once, twice, three times, and I gasp around Micky.
“Fuck.”
I lose control of my body, my head hanging as wave after wave of warm pleasure spills through me.
At that moment, I lose control of my mind too.
We can do this , I think. We really can. We can be this perfect union of three men and one woman and show the world a new kind of love.
I can be enough.
I am enough.
They show me every day just how much Imean to them.
All doubt leaves me in the wake of bliss.
Seb’s the first to come, his cock a deep, throbbing pulse inside me. Colby is next, rutting into my pussy as he loses all control at the end. Micky is last, showering my back and shoulders with his cum.
They tell me I’m beautiful. They clean me up as though I’m precious and worthy of their care.
The lay around me; a pride of content lions with me at the center, and everything feels good and right and infinitely possible.
Until the day our parents return.
Colby collects them from the airport while the rest of us clear away all evidence of our sordid activity. I restore the space that we filled with our laughter and happiness to the formal place designed by my mom to impress Harry’s friends.
I spend too much time in my room, hiding from what I feel is already slipping through my fingers. Although the triplets are happy to keep everything secret, I don’t know if I can live that way. Lying to my mom every day. Skulking around the house, pretending to be siblings again.
Wanting them.
Needing them.
Having to make do with stolen snippets of time that will never feel long enough. Risking discovery and never being able to fully relax.
These last fourteen days have spoiled me.
When Colby’s vehicle pulls into the driveway, I stand in my window, staring out at mom, who’s laughing and smiling, tanned and vibrant, and then at my stepfather, who looks younger and maybe like he’s shifted a few pounds. Colby makes conversation, and helps with the bags, and when mom puts her key into the front door, it feels like a punctuation mark of sorts.
An end to one era and the start of another.
“Ellie, we’re home,” she calls up the stairs. I should be overwhelmed with a rush of happiness at her singsong tone and her desire to see me as soon as she steps through the door. I should celebrate the healing of our family, but everything is tangled and complex. The tiny green shoots of our relationship are so tender and easily trampled.
I make my way slowly down the stairs, inhaling deeply and fixing a smile on my face. Mom’s eyes are bright as she catches sight of me, and when I step off at the bottom, she tugs me into a tight, warm hug. “There she is,” she says. “You’ve all grown up while we’ve been away.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as she scans my face.
“I don’t know. I just got a feeling from Colby, and now I’m getting a feeling from you. Maybe it’s because you’ve all had to take care of yourselves this week. You’ve turned into adults while we’ve been on vacation.”
My traitorous cheeks heat, recalling all the eighteen-plus activities that have taken place in this house. If the walls could talk, they’d be spilling erotic tales that would have made Hugh Hefner blush.
“You’re so tan,” I say, hoping to change the subject by moving the direction of the conversation onto her. My plan works as mom tells us all about the amazing place they stayed and all the delicious food they ate. It’s as though they had a second honeymoon rather than a trip to reconcile after adultery.
Colby stands with his shoulder resting against the wall, watching with as much discomfort as I’m feeling clear on his face. Seb babbles with questions, making mom laugh as usual. Micky’s baked a cake which mom doesn’t stop gushing about and we all drink coffee and sit around the long hardwood table in the kitchen, talking like nothing has changed.
But everything has.
My fingers tingle with the memory of touching my stepbrothers’ skin. My tongue remembers their taste. Between my legs, I’m swollen and wet at the memory of how many times they’ve made me come.
I avoid looking at them because I’m like Pavlov’s dog. Our eyes meet and my body primes for sex immediately.
When we’ve devoured half the cake, and mom has stacked the plates and cups into the dishwasher, I make my excuses and head up to my room.
My bed feels different; the mattress harder, and the comforter cooler than I remember. It’s as though my room has shut down through the lack of an inhabitant. Or maybe I’ve just gotten used to being surrounded by so much strength and warmth that existing in my space is no longer comfortable or familiar.
Rather than waste time feeling lost without the Colby, Seb, and Micky, I get my head down and study, trying desperately to keep my thoughts engaged on work rather than the three men in this house who make me weak with desire. When it’s time for dinner, I ask mom if I can eat it in my room, so I don’t get behind, and in her excellent mood, nothing is too much trouble.
At eleven pm, there’s a knock on my bedroom door, and when I tell whoever it is to come in, the door opens, and mom appears. “You’re working hard, sweetie. I’m so proud of you.”
They’re words I’ve been desperate to hear for so long, but now they feel tainted with the creeping guilt of my lies.
“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper, already imagining the change in her expression and attitude if she eventually discovers the truth.
“Are you going to sleep soon?”
“Another five minutes,” I say.
Padding across my cream carpet, she rests a hand on my shoulder. On my shelf, there’s a photo of us all on vacation two years ago that mom framed for me, as though the forced smiles we were all wearing could convince me we were a happy family. I look up at her and find her smiling strangely.
“Life is funny, isn’t it?”
“I guess,” I say, unsure where she intends to go with her statement.
“One minute, everything is fine. The next, you feel the world has been torn out from under your feet.”
“I’m sorry about what happened,” I say.
She squeezes my shoulder. “So is Harry. I didn’t believe it at first, but I’ve never seen that man so humble. Everything feels different.”
“Different good?”
She nods, squeezing my shoulder again. “I was worried about what kind of message I’d send if I accepted his apology and believed his regret. I don’t want you to think his behavior is acceptable. But then I thought about the message of forgiveness and trying hard to make love work.” She shrugs, and I understand why. Life isn’t black and white, even though I try to make it that way. “Sometimes, we’re hit with a curveball, and we have to decide if a relationship is worth fighting for. This one is, but that doesn’t mean all of them will be.”
I know she doesn’t know about my feelings for her stepsons, but her words still feel strategically placed to make me feel bad.
How can anyone be sure which relationships are worth fighting for?
Is it a feeling? Does it come from having self-confidence? Whatever it is, I’m missing it.
“It’s okay, Mom. I understand. Live your life for you.” Do I even believe what I’m saying? It’s certainly not how I’ve acted these past few weeks—hiding from myself and my feelings—hiding from our relationship and the implications it will have for others. Why is it so easy to give others advice that I would never give myself?
“I’m living it for you, too,” she says. “This home, you, and the boys. You all deserve stability and parents who are around to support you.”
The sinking feeling that’s been weighing in my stomach from the morning plummets another ten feet. “We’re almost grown, Mom.”
“You are,” she says softly. “You know, one of my biggest regrets was always that I hadn’t given you a brother or sister to keep you company in life. Then I met Harry, and suddenly, there were three amazing big brothers to look out for you.”
Amazing big brothers?
Amazing big brothers don’t lick the places the Townsend triplets have licked. They don’t slide inside you while holding your throat and tell you what a good girl you are. They don’t spank your ass and make you gag on their cocks. They don’t touch you like you’re invincible and fragile and precious, all at the same time.
No, Mom might have wanted to give me big brothers, but what she’s given me is three huge live-in boyfriends. If she knew, she’d be horrified.
Disgusted.
Furious.
There’s a thesaurus of words to describe my mom’s potential disappointment.
“I’d better get some rest,” I say, not wanting to risk hearing any more emotional platitudes.
Mom leaves after placing a kiss on the top of my head like she did when I was young, and I have to swallow four times to get rid of the lump in my throat.
Even though it’s late, I shower, and when I’ve brushed my hair and covered my skin with cream, I slip between the cool sheets to sleep alone for the first time in a week.
I’m not alone for long.