16. Establishing Rules
ESTABLISHING RULES
Stella
It’s been two weeks since Thomas and Andie left for vacation, which means two weeks of me, Hunter, and Lachlan fucking like animals all over the mansion.
It’s true. After that breakfast where we discussed boundaries and protection, Lachlan moved into the mansion with me and Hunter and the two men have been giving me constant workouts.
It’s wonderful though, and I was so happy when my dad texted me to say that they were extending their vacation for another two weeks.
To be honest, I think he and Andie are trying to get pregnant, and why not?
Andie’s young and fertile, and I know my dad would welcome another child.
Maybe not a naughty kid like me, but a sweet, innocent baby that he can raise as an upright and moralistic woman.
But I’m upright in my own way. I’m still working my job, despite being fucked around the clock by Hunter and Lachlan.
Thus, I’m back at Nicollete, peddling high-end designer clothes to bored ladies who lunch.
Fortunately, it’s time for my fifteen minute break, and I disappear into the back.
Chloe’s three minutes behind me, but already she moves fast, her nose wrinkling at the faint tang of burnt espresso and bleach as she shuts the door.
“Jesus, Stella, you look like death on clearance.” She drops her bag with a slap and props herself against the shelf, arms folded. Her phone is already out, screen flicking with nervous energy. “Not to be dramatic, but it’s true. Didn’t you sleep?”
I do a mock yawn, then actually yawn. “I slept. Maybe an hour.” My voice is a croak, throat raw from the morning rush and, if I’m honest, other things.
My hands are unsteady as I wrap them around the cardboard cup, its contents black, the temperature already below optimal.
I blow on it, barely feeling the heat. I can feel Chloe’s gaze on my face, dissecting the disaster zone: undereye concealer losing ground, hair scraped back in a slapdash bun, lips bare because I didn’t have the will to fake it.
She narrows her eyes at me, then at the cup, and then makes a show of sniffing the air. “You been stress-drinking again?”
I smile, just enough to show teeth. “Or I was up all night getting railed by my uncle. Take your pick.”
Chloe doesn’t miss a beat. “Can’t it be both?”
“It was both,” I admit, and even I can’t tell if I’m joking.
She’s on me in a second. “Wait. Are you serious? About the uncle thing?”
I give her a level stare, then gesture at my face. “I already told you all about my step-uncle! He’s hot! Besides, do I look like I’m kidding?”
Chloe blinks, her entire body recalibrating. She sets her phone down, takes the opposite aluminum stool, and leans in so close I can smell the vanilla in her conditioner.
“Tell. Me. Everything, girlfriend. This is just too good to be true.”
I glance at the door, make sure it’s fully latched, then take a gulp of coffee just to buy a second.
“Well, like I mentioned before, he’s not my biological uncle.
He’s my dad’s stepbrother, and we’ve been going at it like animals ever since my dad and his girlfriend left for vacation.
But it gets even better: it’s not just my uncle anymore,” I say, voice hushed. “There’s also my pastor.”
Her mouth opens. Nothing comes out. It’s so rare for Chloe to be speechless that I have to savor it for a second.
“Stella,” she says, as if trying out the name on a new species, “you are, actually, my hero. You’re sleeping with two men, oh my god! And one of them’s a man of the cloth! Seriously, kudos girlfriend. Only you could pull this off.”
I wave my hand, the gesture queenly. “Yes, thank you very much. And I want to clarify. When I say two men, I don’t mean one after the other. I mean, we’re together at the same time, simultaneously.”
Her eyes go wide, whites bright as LEDs. “You mean—” she doesn’t even finish the sentence. Instead, she claps her hands over her mouth, then slowly drags them down, leaving pink lines on her cheeks. “Oh my god.”
“It’s not as slutty as it sounds,” I mutter, but even I can’t keep a straight face.
Chloe leans in even closer, if possible, her words a conspiratorial whisper. “Was it…?”
“Amazing?” I interrupt. “Yes. Absolutely. Even though I’m pretty sure I can’t sit straight ever again because my pussy and ass burn all the time now.”
She howls, the sound echoing in the small space. “I need all the details. Start at the beginning. No—wait. Do you want some Advil?”
“Not unless you’ve got one of those hospital donut pillows,” I shoot back. “And even then, I’d need two.”
She giggles, then, for real, goes to the battered supply basket on the shelf, digs up a packet of store-brand ibuprofen, and slides it to me across the counter like a forbidden substance. “Take two, and then spill.”
I take them, dry-swallow, then press the paper cup to my lips again. “Hunter—my uncle, if that was unclear—started it. He’s only my step-uncle, so again: not biologically related. Don’t freak. Anyways, it’s obvious our relationship is taboo, so we decided to talk to a pastor about it.”
Chloe listens like a woman studying for the bar. She nods, blue eyes intent, face slack with the glee of pure gossip. “And?”
“So Pastor Lachlan turned out to be hot,” I say carelessly, like this happens all the time. “We went for some counseling and things got unconventional.”
Chloe’s mouth is a perfect O. “So, like, all three of you—?”
I nod. “Yes. And it’s not a one-time thing. We’ve fucked so many times now that I’m basically completely used up. My pussy and asshole are bruised, girlfriend. Like I have to take Epson salt baths on the reg to soothe my sensitive parts.”
She claps a hand to her chest, as if steadying her heart. “Holy fuck. Is this, like… I don’t know, I guess, a ménage?”
I shrug. “That’s a fancy word, and I don’t know what we are. I’m still learning the rules. Sometimes there are no rules, except that they both get what they want, whenever they want it.” I let that hang, then add: “And, for the record, they want it a lot.”
Her eyes go big, then bigger. “So, like, a free-use arrangement?”
I blink. “What is that?”
Chloe, now a professor at the School of Degeneracy, explains: “It means, like, the guy—or guys—can have sex with you whenever, wherever. Doesn’t matter what you’re doing.
Cooking, gardening, even just bingeing the best Netflix series you’ve ever seen.
If they want to use your body, they do. It’s a thing online. ”
For some reason, the clinical way she says “use you” makes my heart go off-beat. “Yeah,” I say, after a second. “That’s pretty much the setup. I don’t ever get any time to myself. Especially when I’m in the shower. So much semen has swirled down the shower drain at our place, it’s crazy.”
Chloe cackles. “Is it as hot as it sounds?”
I don’t answer right away. I look down at my hands, the way the paper cup shakes a little in them.
I shift on the stool, and a bolt of soreness runs up my spine from the tingle in my ass.
“It’s better,” I say, honest. “Like, it’s always intense.
Sometimes I want to say no, just to see if I could, but then I get this feeling and…
” I trail off, trying not to sound desperate.
She picks up on it anyway. “And what?”
I glance up at her, the fluorescent tube overhead buzzing in the silence. “And then I want it, even when I think I don’t.”
Chloe watches me, a smile curling at the corner of her lips. “You’re addicted to two men, huh?”
I snort. “Who wouldn’t be? They’re both insane. I feel like I’m living in a porn series, but it’s romantic, somehow. But also illicit, and so totally hot.”
She throws back her head and laughs, then collects herself. “So—wait—are they into each other, or just you?”
I let out a little breath. “Just me, I think. But sometimes it gets… I don’t know. Competitive.”
She leans in, eyes shining. “Do they ever—like—DP you?” She whispers it, as if we’re in a confessional booth.
The memory is still vivid. “Yes. Yes, they absolutely do. All the time.”
She makes a little sound, almost a squeak, and then covers her face again.
“You are living the actual dream, Stella. The dream. Do you know how many women in this city would kill for that? Especially with two good-looking, hung dudes? Who cares if one’s your uncle?
Who cares if the other’s your pastor? If you’re having the sex of your wildest dreams, then it’s worth it! ”
“Yeah, but I’m not sure anyone would want to trade places with me right at this moment,” I deadpan, shifting again on the stool. “I’m walking funny.”
“Worth it,” she says.
“Absolutely,” I agree.
For a moment, the silence is companionable. Chloe sips her own coffee, then eyes me over the rim. “So. Details. Like, whose is bigger?”
I can’t help but grin. “They’re both massive. But in different ways. Hunter is… you know, more like long, at least ten inches with bulging veins. I can feel him so deep, and he always bangs against my cervix. Lachlan is thicker, but less length, but the stretch is soooo good.”
Chloe groans. “You lucky bitch.”
I tip my head back and close my eyes. “That’s not even the half of it. The things they do to me. I didn’t even know you could come that hard. Like, I saw god last night, and she was laughing at me.”
Chloe bounces on her stool, then drops her voice even further. “Are you scared your dad is going to find out?”
I nod, slowly. “Terrified. But I don’t want to stop. I can’t.”
She’s quiet for a second, then says, “When is Thomas back though?”
I do the math in my head. “In two more weeks. He extended his vacation.”
Chloe whistles. “So, like, you need to keep going with the fuckfest, girlfriend. Seriously, the clock is ticking.”
I roll my eyes. “I know.”
She reaches over and squeezes my arm, her hand warm and strong. “You’re amazing, Stella. And you have to keep me updated, okay?”
I promise, then add, “Yeah sure. But I’ve been blabbing all about me, so it’s your turn. You’ve been weird all morning.”
Chloe stiffens a little, then glances away. “It’s nothing.”
“Liar,” I say. “But what’s up with you, Chloe? I’ve spilled the beans, so what’s new in Chloe-land?”
My friend sighs, then looks back at me. “My mom leaves for Oahu tomorrow. To film the next season of her reality TV show. And I’ll be alone with… you know.”
“Your stepdad?” I say, slow, the pieces falling into place.
She nods, cheeks pinking up. “Yeah. And I know it’s wrong, but sometimes I think about… like, what it would be like. If I let him…”
She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to.
I stare at her for a long second, then say, “Do you think he’s into you?”
She considers it, then shrugs. “Maybe? He looks sometimes. Like, at the pool, or when I wear a party dress. But he’s never said anything, or done anything.”
I nod, thinking of Hunter’s hands, the way they move without words, always telegraphing intent. “Sometimes you just know,” I say. “It’s in the air.”
Chloe bites her lip, then leans forward, the space between us suddenly tight. “Is it always this hot though?” she asks, voice small. “The attraction, and then giving in?”
I think about it, then nod. “I think so, especially if it’s the right person. But seriously, Chlo, this dude is still married to your mom. Are you really going to go there? And what happened with that guy you met at the party? Aiden, I think.”
She exhales, tension dropping from her shoulders. “That dude ghosted me after texting for a while. Can you believe it? So predictable and disappointing. But yeah, about my stepdad, probably not. It’s too taboo.”
We sit there, two girls in a cave of fluorescent light and almond milk creamer, secrets stacked up around us like sandbags against a flood. There’s a knock on the door, and both of us jump. Miriam’s voice, sharp as a blade: “Break’s over, girls.”
Chloe stands, smooths her skirt, and winks at me. “You’re the best, Stells.”
I smile, and this time it feels real. “You too.”
We head back onto the sales floor, shoulders brushing, and for the first time all day, I feel lighter.
Maybe even happy.
Because as much as I want to be used, sometimes I want to be understood more.
And with Hunter and Lachlan, I can tell that we’re getting there. Our communication is still imperfect, but it’s only been two weeks. As time passes, I know things will only grow hotter …so long as my dad doesn’t find out.