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“The point of having a honey on the side is they’re disposable. They get fat? Ditch ’em and find another. They demand you get a divorce? Ditch ’em and find another. They want a baby, for chrissake? Ditch ’em and find another!”
Dave was slurring, but so was I — too many drinks after I had dragged him to the bar after work. We never went on Mondays, but it had been a stressful weekend, followed by a workday of one problem after another. I needed to unwind before facing Amy and Kate again.
“Gee, Dave, I just knew you’d understand and totally not be a pig about it. Thanks a lot.”
Downing my whiskey, I scanned the vast array of bottles behind the bar and caught my sour expression in the mirror.
“Why am I even telling you this?” I said. “You’ll blab it all over town.”
Dave signaled for another round. “Look, I dunno how everyone found out about Kate’s sex drive — or lack of it — but it was not me. I may be a dick, but I do not blab on my best friend.”
I eyeballed him. Yeah, he probably didn’t. Dave and I had kept each other’s secrets over the years. If nothing else, the dirt I had on him alone would’ve kept his mouth shut.
“Anyway,” said Dave, “Why not just do it? You and Kate were so baby crazy when you first got married. I swear I spent three hours in here listening to you argue with yourself over names. This is a second chance for you.”
I threw my hands up. “Am I the only sane person left on this planet? Amy needs to be out there, hanging out with friends, finding a guy of her own. She graduates her program at the college in December. She should concentrate on growing her jewelry business, finding her own path, building a life for herself. Not ruining it by becoming some old fart’s concubine.”
Dave took a mouthful of beer and swirled it in his cheeks before swallowing.
“So why does she?” he said.
I exhaled. “Oh, she gives all kinds of reasons: she loves kids, doesn’t want to wait, it’s the perfect time and it’ll be easy with Kate and me helping.”
“The fuck it is! You know how her childhood was. She’s insecure. Worried we’ll kick her out someday. Kate told her how hard we tried to have kids, so now Amy thinks having one for us will cement things. That, and she’d do anything to make us happy. Anything.”
The bartender swapped my empty glass for a full one. I took a long sip of the single malt, reveling in the burn as it went down, hoping it would relieve my turmoil for a short while.
“Amy shouldn’t be an unwed mother at twenty,” I said. “It’s wrong. It’s immoral.”
Dave let out a wet, beery belch.
“Y’know,” he said, “I remember a time when you never did all this tight-assed pearl-clutching. When you lived life and fucked anything that moved. And weren’t too careful about protection, either.”
“I was an out-of-control, self-centered asshole.”
“And now you’re an uptight, navel-gazing asshole. Sounds like Amy’s got her head on straight. Not everyone with a bad childhood winds up psycho, you know. I mean, look at me.”
True enough. Dave’s family was a nightmare. Once you got past his gross manners and neanderthal attitude about women, he was a level-headed guy.
He said, “You agonize like this when you’re getting groceries, don’t you? Pick up a box of cereal then spend twenty minutes scrutinizing the label, figuring out if it’s organic, ethically sourced and has the right amount of fiber?”
He mimed running a finger down the side of a cereal box.
“Don’t you ever just grab the Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs because that’s what you fucking want?”
I snorted. “Your analogies suck, Dave. In college, both of us ‘grabbed the Sugar Bombs’ all the time. How many women did we hurt? How many times was I nearly kicked out? I’m not going back to that. Besides, Amy isn’ta box of cereal. She’s… she’s…” My hands flailed as I searched for words grand enough to encompass everything my Amy was.
Dave leaned forward, studying me closely.
“Oh, my god. You’re in love with her.”
He slumped back in his bar stool and shook his head.
“Fuuuuck,” he said. “That’s rule number one. Never, ever fall in love with your mistress! How can you not know that? You’re gonna get divorced if Kate ever finds out.”
I waved a dismissive hand. “She knew way before I did, Dave. And she’s okay. She keeps telling me about polyamorous cultures around the world, and how loving Amy doesn’t make me love her any less. Kate is…” Again, I couldn’t find words to express the magnificence of Kate.
“Well,” said Dave. “If that’s really the case, get yourself a few more girlfriends. You could have a whole harem to fuck. One for every day of the week.”
“Sensitive as always, Dave.”
He grinned. “I try. Anyway, get real. How much longer do you think you can last? You’re refusing to fuck your mistress until she gets back on birth control. And Kate’s cut you off. You’re the horniest guy in the history of the universe. Always have been. I mean, one time you bonus veren siteler tried to fuck a tree.”
I shoved him. “I was hammered. And it was a joke. That girl I’d been after for weeks… the one with the really thick hair and massive tits… uh, Carolyn? God, she was something. She teased me all night, then started tonguing some girl and then left with her. She could’ve just said she wasn’t into guys instead of giving me blue balls.”
Dave nodded and chuckled, remembering.
“Anyway, Kate has not cut me off,” I said. “It’s just that she doesn’t get in the mood anymore without watching me with Amy first. Plus, she says fucking her is a waste — that Amy should get all my sperm.”
Dave shook his head. “Wish I had your problems, man. Look, just admit it — you’re doomed. You’ve got two women working on you to get Amy pregnant. And I know you: you need sex. Real sex. You’ll go nuts without it.”
I stuck out my chest and smirked. “Think so? Well, it’s been a month so far and I’m doing fine. Just fine. I’ll find some way to talk sense into them both. In a year or two, if Amy hasn’t left us and still wants a kid, I’ll think about it then.”
Wobbling home, I opened my jacket to the crisp autumn air. It helped focus my mind, and I needed every drop of self-control around Amy. She was persistent, persuasive, and since she’d stopped taking the pill, her already high sex drive had gone off the scale.
Amy had always been eager for sex, but as the days passed, she wore tighter and more revealing clothes, rubbed against me more often, or just gazed at me with longing and hunger. She even moved differently: slinkier, with a sway of her hips that made me want to grab her, kiss her, and fuck her against the wall.
I had to banish her from our bed. A naked, aggressively horny twenty-year-old sleeping beside me each night was too much to resist. Not that banishing her changed much: every night Amy came to our bedroom door, pleading to stay, then returned to her room, heartbroken, each time I refused. Regardless, every morning I woke to find her snuggled beside me, warm and naked, either stroking my cock or nursing on my stiff morning wood.
Those were the most tempting times. We both loved fucking in the mornings: one of us rousing the other with a kiss, caressing each other’s drowsy warm bodies, then merging for unhurried, gentle lovemaking. We did it nearly every morning, and habits are so hard to break.
Kate thought Amy’s persistence was cute. For me, constantly fighting her off quickly became exhausting and annoying.
Each day became harder. After a month without fucking Amy and only a few attempts with Kate, a gnawing, relentless horniness had taken hold. I had hoped that once reaching 40 my sex drive would finally relent, especially after months of unrestrained sex with Amy, but it remained as strong as when I was seventeen.
Yet, I couldn’t jerk off: when I tried doing it beside Kate at night, she made her disapproval obvious. Even when I got a moment alone, I felt like I was being a selfish prick. Every fantasy I pictured each time I tried inevitably became images of Amy and Kate watching disappointed, and I just couldn’t finish.
Plus, after months of volcanic sex with Amy, each session usually followed by making love with Kate, solo activities were about as satisfying as washing the dishes. Even when I could come by myself, it felt empty. I missed staring into Amy’s eyes while we fucked, the ecstasy on her face when she came, and the little smile that crept to her lips when she felt me throbbing inside her, knowing I was filling her. I missed the sweetness of making love with Kate when her waning desires were re-ignited after watching me fuck my young lover.
Worse than the horniness and constant temptation, though, was the hurt and disappointment I saw in Amy and Kate that grew with each day I resisted. The two women I loved had long since stopped trying to convince me of the merits of knocking Amy up. Instead, their silent growing expectation that I’d ‘come to my senses,’ as Kate put it, hung heavily between us.
Each night when Amy left, wounded, when I refused to let her sleep in our bed, Kate would purse her lips, sigh and roll over to sleep with her back to me. Each day, I caught Amy casting a longing, anguished expression at me that felt like a punch in the gut.
But their plan was insane! Get Amy pregnant? It was so obviously nuts.
No, I was the sensible one. Clearly, Amy and Kate had gone baby-crazy. It wouldn’t last. I’d make them see reason. And, damn it, I would tough it out until they did.
“Hi, honey. You’re home!”
Amy greeted me as I walked in the front door.
The mischief in her eyes told me something was up. Then I realized what she was wearing: a pink polka-dot apron edged with frothy white frills, like something from a 1950’s department store catalog. It covered her from cleavage to about mid-thigh.
Amy handed me a martini glass bedava bahis before pulling me into a long, steamy kiss. I tried not to spill the drink while I reciprocated, enjoying her clean scent and the feel of her firm body.
She released me and stepped back.
“Like my new outfit?” she chirped, grinning.
Amy spun to reveal that the apron was all she wore, leaving her ass and back fully exposed. She stuck out her bum and arched her back, looking over her shoulder while clasping her hands in front in a cheesy “pin-up girl” pose.
She turned and smiled sweetly.
“Dinner’s almost ready. Would you like to fuck me before we eat, or after? Or maybe both?” Her eyes twinkled. “Either is fine with me, of course, but Kate’s still in the study working on her novel, and you know how much she wants to watch when you breed me.”
I stared, throat dry. The last thing I needed was another drink, but took a hasty gulp anyway.
Amy turned and strode towards the kitchen, swaying her hips. Dumbly, I followed, eyes glued to the globes of her bare ass. I’d seen her naked hundreds of times, explored every inch of her body, yet never tired of seeing Amy exposed.
“What’s going on?” I said.
Amy bent over to check something in the oven, presenting a sinful view of her pussy from behind. She straightened and turned.
“I’m seducing you,” she quipped.
“Oh?” I chuckled. “Is that so?”
“Yup! Since you’re not going to be an adult and listen to reason about impregnating me, I’m just going to have to make you so horny you can’t resist.” She speared me with a sly look. “And you know how persistent I can be.”
Kate emerged from her study when it was time to eat. The fall semester had begun, and she already had papers to mark and grad student research to organize. Her third novel, published in the spring, had become a success, selling far better than her first two. The pressure was on for novel number four to be even better.
She seemed far too amused with Amy’s outfit and her latest plan.
“Kate, did you know about this little scheme?” I asked.
“No, but it certainly makes dinner time interesting, don’t you think? Amy, where on earth did you find that ludicrous apron?”
Amy glanced down, then up with innocent eyes. “This little thing? Why, it’s the latest fashion.”
Kate laughed. “Maybe in 1953.”
Amy shrugged. “Well, I wanted something old-fashioned and conservative. Just like Ben.”
I ignored them both while they laughed.
“So, this is your plan?” I said. “You’re going to walk around half-naked in that outfit each time I get home, hoping I’ll lose control and fuck you on the hallway floor?”
“Oh, yes please,” said Amy. “But I have lots more outfits. A different one for every day. And one for every night, too. Remember my friend Mary? She’s in the Theater Arts program at the college. She has access to their entire costume collection. And has a few interesting outfits of her own she’s letting me borrow.”
Kate sat back and smiled. “This is why I like having you with us, Amy. If you weren’t, this would just be another quiet dinner at home. You liven things up so much. Although, I have to admit I’m having second thoughts about this whole baby thing.”
“What?” Amy gasped. “You… you are?”
Kate nodded gravely. “Well, yes. I mean, let’s face it: Ben’s only 40. He’s still a little immature to be a father, don’t you think? Guys mature so much later than us women, remember. I’m just not entirely sure he’s ready for the responsibilities of parenthood at his tender age.”
Amy nodded sagely. “Why, yes, Kate. You’re right. The guys at my college all act like they’re still twelve. But I have faith in our Ben. We’ll support him. We’ll help him grow, won’t we?”
“Absolutely,” nodded Kate. “We’ll help him mature and comfort him when he gets scared of the responsibilities.”
“You snarky little teases,” I glowered, trying to look serious. “I’m the only one being mature about this thing. You two have lost your fucking minds. You’ll thank me whenever you get over this baby fever of yours.”
“Now,” I said, standing abruptly. “The first one of you sarcastic teases I catch is going to get tickled to death.”
Both bolted from their chairs, squealing with laughter.
I caught Kate first.
Kate was marking papers when I slid into bed. Right on cue, Amy knocked on the door and stepped inside.
Instead of her usual bed-time outfit of absolutely nothing, Amy wore a complete “merry widow” outfit: black corset accentuating her figure, sheer stockings clipped to garters, and a satin g-string barely covering her pussy. She had tried to apply sultry make-up with sparkly eye shadow, exactly the wrong shade of lipstick and far too much rouge. Add a feather boa and she would’ve been perfect for a production of the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
Amy strode to the bed, wobbling like a newborn colt in precariously high heels. She leaned over me, boobs straining against deneme bonus the corset.
She booped my nose and with a husky voice intoned, “Hey there, big boy. Wanna get lucky?”
Behind me, Kate snickered. I laughed before I could stop myself.
Amy looked down at her outfit. “What? You don’t like it?”
The thing about Amy was she was girl-next-door pretty, one of the many things I loved about her. Her face was just too pure and fresh to pull off the femme fatale look she was going for. Her awkward attempt at a seductive saunter and a smoky expression made it even more incongruous.
I pulled her down onto the bed and kissed her waxy lips.
“I think,” I said, “perhaps ‘sultry’ might not be the best look for you.”
Amy frowned. “Mary said I’d look hot. Make me irresistible.”
“You’re always hot, Amy. Just by being you.” I kissed her again.
Amy pulled me close with a tentative, hopeful expression.
“But,” I said, “unless I wear a condom or you get back on birth control, we are not making love. No matter how hot you are. You know that.”
Her face fell. “I wouldn’t let you wear a condom if you had leprosy. And you know that.”
She glanced at Kate who was watching with amusement.
“C’mon Ben,” Amy said. “It’s been long enough.” She writhed against me then ran her palm over my hardening dick. “Stop torturing me. Us. You’re suffering as much as I am. And Kate wants to see us together again. Think how extra hot she’ll get when you fuck a baby into me.”
I pushed her away. “We’ve had this conversation, Amy. I want to make love to you — I always want to make love to you — but I’m not getting you pregnant. You’re too young. And having a kid should be with a guy your own age in the sanctity of a loving marriage.”
“Wow,” said Amy, “that’s a term you don’t hear much. I am in the ‘sanctity of a loving marriage:’ You’re married to Kate and I’ll be your… what was the term, Kate?”
“Sister wife,” Kate said. “That’s the accepted term in the communities of–“
“No!” I said, scrubbing both hands over my head. “I don’t want to hear it! I don’t care what other communities do or what’s accepted in other cultures. It’s wrong. For us. It’s wrong for Amy.”
I stroked Amy’s cheek. “You deserve better. So much better than this.”
Amy held my hand to her face.
“I’m never going to find better than you and Kate. And I don’t want to. I love you. I love Kate. And you both love me, don’t you? There’s only one thing that would make what we have better.” She looked up at me hopefully and slid my hand to her belly.
These discussions happened every night. They were exhausting, maddening. Seeing the yearning in Amy’s eyes, feeling her cuddled against me, I fought the urge to rip her ridiculous clothes away and make love to that sweet girl. Give her what she and Kate thought they wanted.
“Please,” I said, removing my hand, “Please. Go back to your room.”
She pressed against me, moving her hand up to my chest. “Can I just sleep here tonight? It’s been so long. I won’t do anything. I won’t even get naked. Just sleep. I promise.”
I sighed, avoiding her pleading eyes. “You know what’ll happen. Even if you don’t do anything, I will. Even in my sleep I’d wind up fucking you.”
“Mmmm,” she said, squirming close, “I’d stop you.”
“Hah. Sure, you would.”
I shooed her out of bed and guided her back to her room.
When I returned, Kate had put her papers aside and watched me with an amused expression.
“It’s not funny,” I said, slipping back into bed. “The costumes. The antics. It’s childish.”
“It’s cute. And you know what she’s doing. She’s trying her damnedest to get you to lighten up. To stop being so serious about this.”
“How can it not be serious, Kate? Having a kid? Out of wedlock? Amy should not be some old guy’s concubine. Or surrogate.”
Kate rested her head against me. “Why do you keep seeing it like that? Amy’s not some little slut on the side. She never was. She’s family now.”
“And she’ll still be family when she finds her own guy. We can have them over for dinner once a week.”
“Hmm. I wonder if you could stand that… seeing her with someone else? C’mon, Ben, admit it: you never want her to leave. Neither do I. And the idea of impregnating her excites you. So why not give her what she wants?”
“Because it’s absolutely, totally, fucking batshit crazy.”
Kate nodded. “Yeah. That’s what I thought too when she suggested it. We talked it over for days and days. But Amy convinced me. It’s a brilliant idea. And she’s thought it through. She really has. She’s very sure about it.”
“She’s a kid. She can’t possibly know what she wants.”
Kate pursed her lips. “Well, we might have been kids at her age. We had that luxury, but Amy didn’t. She grew up fast. I wish I was as level-headed as her when I was 20.”
“Okay, fair enough. Still, she’s only 20. There’s no rush. Let her graduate her program and build her business. Experience life a little. Get out there and do what she never had a chance to before. We can all wait a couple of years.”
“Ben, you’ll be 41 soon. I’m 50. We’re both still in good shape, but how old you want to be when we’re changing diapers and chasing after toddlers?”
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