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I used to be your typical married woman, with a husband to whom I’d been faithfully attached for 20 years, a son about to graduate college, and a long career as a cook aboard a luxury cruise ship. I felt that I had everything I’d ever need out of life.
But my son’s fiancée, Julie, changed everything.
The first time she ever laid eyes on me, she swooned in a genuine example of love at first sight. For me, it wasn’t quite “first”, but still not that many sights behind. I’m still not quite sure how it happened…heck, I’d never so much as touched another woman’s baby toe before Julie. The idea of me falling in love with a member of the same sex seemed laughably impossible.
Further, my husband and I had maintained a “hands-off” approach in regards to Cay’s sex life. We raised him to be careful, to understand and respect consent, and to own up his own decisions. Beyond that, I had nothing to do with what Cay and any girl he dated did in the bedroom. Even if he asked for my advice, I used to mercifully ask him to spare the intricate details.
But skip ahead just under three years and there I was, night after night, fingering Julie’s pussy to a shivering climax while I sucked her round, succulent tits. This, I might add, was also happening while my son Cay was behind me, groaning and grunting like a demon possessed. His hand slammed into my ass with a hard SMACK, letting my meaty cheeks roll while he thrust deep into me, faster than my heart could beat.
Then he signalled that he was ready to cum, and that triggered the chain reaction.
Julie released a flood on my fingers. I groaned instinctively into a mouthful of her nipple. And Cay hooked his fingers into my ass while he tilted his head back, hollering as he unleashed powerful ropes of semen into the depths of my unprotected vagina.
Each of us were spent after that. Minutes passed as we caught our breath and the sweat cooled our overheated bodies. Once the intensity had passed, we all looked at one another, deeply, lovingly, savoring the bliss and fatigue in each of our eyes. Then, we all gathered close on the bed and kissed and licked one-anothers’ faces just to savor the taste of us just a little longer.
Finally, we collapsed on the bed in a heap, exhausted but satisfied beyond belief.
Julie was the first one to speak again. “When I was 12, my mother slapped me on my face and called me a ‘Bitch’ because I kissed a girl.” She put her arm around my shoulder and held me close. “At the time, I never would have thought that day would ever lead to this much happiness.”
“Your mother was the Bitch,” I sighed exhaustedly into her naked breast.
Then, Cay chimed, “When I was 12, my mother got me an ugly ass pair of socks for Christmas when I really wanted an X-Box.”
That brought a smile to my tired face. “Your mother was a Bitch, too,” I chuckled.
“Yeah,” he said, his warm hand gently and lovingly rubbing my back. “That’s why I smacked her ass a minute ago.”
It had been seventeen months since we all began to live as a trio. Barring a few occasions, the routine I just described hadn’t changed in all that time, and it showed no signs of doing so anytime soon, either.
Once again, Cay’s sperm was dripping from my pussy after he unloaded in me, as he had done almost every night. Even though ours was an equal, three-way marriage, there were several reasons I was always injected with my son’s babymakers, including the fact I was kind of the favorite in the bedroom for both of my lovers. Julie had always found my body irresistible and, as women, we mutually sensed how to please each other in ways Cay wouldn’t understand. And Cay loved me dearly, not just because I was the mother of his child, but his as well.
Their mutual fetish for me only intensified after I was pregnant, and seemed to grow in proportion to how swollen my belly got. Julie, for one, couldn’t keep her slender fingers off my tummy. She adored gently stimulating my belly button with her fingernails, and licking and kissing our growing baby at any and every opportunity. I’d never even known women could have a pregnancy fetish, but once again Julie had proven all previous assumptions moot.
During this period, we even experimented with dominating me while I was pregnant. My spouses fitted me with a collar and sometimes had me moving around on my hands and knees, following them around as one of them, or sometimes both of them, held leashes like I was their pregnant bitch. Later, after I gave birth, they even used me as their dairy cow for four months; we all literally drank just my breast milk rather than supermarket brands. They often kept me hooked up to breast pumps in the bedroom and sometimes had me eat dinner like an animal. I loved hearing them call me “slut” or “cow”, I enjoyed the way they treated me like livestock and cattle, and I found it insanely hot when my casino siteleri son fucked me from behind while Julie squeezed my tits hard and milked me by hand.
We tried “regular” bondage too, but that proved to be more exciting for Julie than it was for me. She turned out to be quite the pain slut, and Cay and I filed that little note away for later. Cay let us girls dominate him too, and I greatly enjoyed playing with Cay’s cock and his big juicy balls while he was restrained. I loved teasing him just as he was about to cum, then pulling away and having fun with the rest of his body. And it felt great to finally give him permission to look his mother in the eye and spray his love all over her face. God, the ecstasy in his eyes when that happened…
Generally speaking, we liked these sorts of games, but decided it was something to only do occasionally to spice up our bedroom. We couldn’t live that way full-time like some of the people we met. Thus, most nights, our sexcapades simply ended with Cay unleashing deep inside my cunt while Julie and I pleasured each other in many, many other ways, and she could then revel in the scandalous mating between a mother and son. It was what we all wanted, and what made it even better was the knowledge that I could get pregnant again, at any time. So could Julie, of course…but again, I was the favorite to win that race.
One of the first things we had discussed upon moving-in together was having more children, and we unanimously agreed that it was much more exciting when we left things to chance. That being said, we weren’t actively trying to fill up a nursery, either. Our first daughter was already a handful, and we were all thankful to be past the diapers-at-2am phase. So Julie and I restricted our birth control options to only moderately-effective kinds, to give my son’s swimmers a fighting chance. Besides, in the meantime, both of my spouses had successful careers to devote themselves to, and my job was to have a clean house and a cooked meal waiting for them after they returned. I became a housewife, typically naked around the home to go along with my literally being barefoot and pregnant. We often joked that Julie could handle the corporate feminism. I’d do the traditional, primeval kind like the women in ancient times.
So, we decided to play the odds, and let Mother Nature decide the rest.
The most exciting non-sexual part of my new life was also the most exhausting: the lying.
While I was pregnant with our first child, most people who made a casual guess assumed that I was Cay’s wife and that Julie was my younger sister or daughter. Others made a bolder leap and assumed that one of us two ladies was the wife and the other his mistress.. Because of the resemblance, some people correctly assessed that I was his mother but assumed that I had IVF treatment and needed to live with my son and daughter-in-law because I needed help raising a child “at my age”. Those were the people we had to lie to, and insist that any resemblance between Cay and I was just a coincidence.
They were all wrong, of course. And, if anyone ever correctly arrived at the truth, they never said so to us, and we never told anyone who knew us personally.
But, there was one thing about us that we never hid. Whenever someone asked, the three of us were open about the fact that we considered ourselves to be an equal partnership. I wasn’t Cay’s “mistress” or his “cougar with a step-daughter”. Julie wasn’t his “side piece”. Cay wasn’t our “lesbian sperm donor”. We were all married spouses in each others’ eyes, even if the law remained oblivious to it. If someone got cheeky and asked which of us were on the marriage document, we graciously told them to shut the hell up and mind their own fucking business.
Even after three years of living together, it still excited me every time Cay called me by my first name instead of “Mom”. Such a small thing, but so incredibly powerful. It was an easy, effective reminder of how far our relationship had progressed. Our old bond had been buried, replaced by a stronger one which symbolized that we shared everything with each other. Of course, it was the same thing when he called me “Baby”, “Honey”, or “Darling”, but I think that could have been said about all three of us, because it had the same effect on me when Julie did it, too…and vice-versa.
One of the things that I found worked much easier in marriage as a trio than as a couple was setting ground rules and expectations. In a duo, there’s this fear of laying down too many rules or that saying too much could ruin the “spice” of a romance. But, in a multiple relationship, it became necessary. All three of us had to be on the same page and openly communicate our desires, fears and frustrations because we worked as a team. Typically, we did this by vote. For example, we unanimously canlı casino agreed with ourselves that we would forever remain a trio-there would never be a fourth party to our marriage. Of course, there were never any guarantees in life, but keeping to this was one of the major Commandments in our Bible.
This didn’t exclude the idea that someone new could, potentially, temporarily join in our sex lives (and they did, on many occasions) but there were clear lines and boundaries set. Flirting was fine, but we all drew the line at the possibility of intimate contact. We already had so much trouble convincing people that we were in a loving, committed relationship and…so many times… people easily assumed we were a bunch of open-sex, orgy-party-loving hipsters. We had people constantly asking to “let them in on the fun” or assuming that we’d hop in bed with anything if an offer was made. We constantly had to prove how faithful we were to each other, and how seriously we took our vows of an equal, three-way partnership.
We weren’t just three people living together. We were in love, and people never quite understood that.
At 13 months old, our daughter Julienne’s first word was “Mama”…which naturally made sense, as the mothers outnumbered the fathers 2-to-1. But to be fair…by the time she was two, she knew how to say “Daddy” as well as many other words. Jenn (as we nicknamed her) was far too young to be told the details, so she only knew us as “Mommies” and “Daddy”. Behind closed doors, and in very hushed whispers, Julie sometimes got a little frisky and called me “granny”. Not as a dig against my age, but because she knew being reminded that my child was also my grandchild (and that no one but us knew this) would immensely turn me on, every single time.
One of the uncomfortable subjects we had to broach was the fact that by the time our daughter was a barely-legal adult, I’d be pushing 60, and both Cay and Julie would be about the same age I was when we moved in together. And it wasn’t like any of us had planned to start an incestuous marriage, but here we all were, a parent who fucked her child and made another child. Cay shook his head and said that no matter what happened, there was zero chance he’d ever do anything with Jenn. What happened between he and I was because of Julie, and Julie alone; it was only because of her that Cay started seeing me as anything more than the woman who’d raised him, and it would be disrespectful to both of us to assume we were replaceable just so that he could repeat a “kink”.
“I love you,” he told us. “Both of you. For who you are…not for a fetish.” Sitting opposite the couch where I sat, he then smiled at me and said, “And Liane, even if you’re 90, I will still fuck the shit out of you with my 70-year-old dick.”
It was this kind of openness and trust in each other that made our lives so wonderful. The sex, the threesomes, the “kinks”…those were all cherries on top of the cherries on top of the sundae that was the love and support that truly made up our wonderful relationship.
As to be expected, I got pregnant with my second child eventually, and we let Jenn know she’d be having a brother and/or sister in the near future. Her first question was: “Who told you?”
We all knew I would likely have my second before Julie even had her first, due to the frequency at which Cay fucked my ovaries silly. Afterwards, though, Julie’s attitude on it changed. “I know we said we wanna be spontaneous and all, but I wanna get pregnant NOW,” she said excitedly.
Cay and I blinked at her in unison. “Okay,” I said, “but where’s all this coming from, baby?”
“Ever since you had Jenn, I’ve always wanted us to be sister wives in pregnancy…sharing notes, comparing tummies, and even being side-by-side our mutual husband to make other people jealous as fuck.”
She darted up and leapt behind us, wrapping both arms around Cay and I as she sold her vision.
“Can you imagine it, Liane? The three of us sitting in the park, you and I under each of Cay’s arms, and a big bulging belly between the two of us. Wouldn’t your son look like a total fucking stud?!”
Cay burst into laughter, but by God, she had him. I could tell right then and there that the two of them were on the same page, all because Julie knew how to manipulate my idiot boy’s ego.
I sighed and, with a wary chuckle said: “Alright, but this will be the only time we do it for that reason. Because of that, we should get photos taken, make home videos, take good long vacations to make memories, and generally enjoy the moment before it’s gone forever. Because, as fun as this idea sounds, we can’t keep making babies just for reasons like this. They’re human beings, too, and not our fetishes.”
My darlings both agreed kaçak casino with what I said, promising to adhere to the plan. And with that, we stripped each other down to get started.
As soon as I had Julie naked, Cay popped his dick out in front of my face and said, “Take it, Liane.”
Fuck me, but that never got old. Hearing my son call me by my first name, specifically commanding me to suck his huge, hard dick? He might as well said have “Open Sesame” because a second later my mouth was stretched wide and I came right on the spot once it hit the back of my throat. Like a woman possessed, I let my wildest instincts take over as my son fucked the bejeezus out of my mouth. My tongue, and every mouthy muscle including my lips, did everything they could to optimize his pleasure and enjoy this wonderful cock that I worshipped and adored.
When Cay was good and hard, I pulled away, leaving a satisfactory thread of my saliva, mixed with his pre-cum, falling from my lips to his tip, as I gently guided it straight in our wife’s waiting pussy.
This time, it was my turn to revel. I licked my wife’s face while our husband fucked the shit out of her, watching her lovely red hair flipping and flopping all over the bed.
“You think you’re the only one with a fetish?” I whispered very softly as I nibbled her ear. “I. Love. Redheads.” I kissed her on the cheek. “And you know what turns me on just as much as breeding with my son?” I kissed her lips. “Watching my son breed me a redheaded grandchild.”
“OH MY FUCKING GOD!” Julie screamed, cumming intensely and convulsively at that exact moment. Her hands sprang up and clasped the back of my head, yanking me in so hard that we didn’t so much kiss as savage each other’s mouths with our lips and tongues.
“Oh God, I love you I love you I love you I love you. I fucking love you, Liane!” I was beyond pleased with myself, watching my beautiful wife scream such blessed words as she thrashed about in uncontrollable euphoria. I’d never seen her this happy before, nor had I ever witnessed an orgasm this intense, and that was saying quite a lot.
We showed each other all the affection we could, and I let her know that the feeling was quite mutual. Julie barely had time to come down from that first orgasm when another took her, as the impact of what I’d said still had yet to leave her thoughts. She hollered yet again, and pleaded over and over for Cay to fuck her harder.
“Jesus fucking H Christ, what did you say to her?” an astonished Cay asked as he held our wife’s feet apart, giving it everything he had to keep up with her wild, unbridled momentum. I couldn’t answer, because my tongue and fingers were too busy gently stimulating her clit.
Needless to be said, Julie halted use of all her contraceptives for the time being, and we kept up nights like this until it worked. Not very long after, Julie was freshly pregnant before I had even started showing. It was the first planned pregnancy of our marriage, and though we all agreed that we liked it better when it was spontaneous, this was a special treat.
Now, our family felt truly complete.
Julie wasn’t the type of delicate snowflake I was. She was active and athletic, even while pregnant. She liked to go jogging, cycling, play water sports, and lots of other physical activities. It was a bit disappointing to me that I wasn’t able to pamper her and return the favor like she did whenever I was pregnant, but we were two different types of women, and I quickly began to love and admire that she kept her assertiveness even with the extra weight in her belly.
It was exciting to talk about the fact that her baby and both of mine would be raised as siblings. The three of us had discussed how to broach the subject multiple times…after all, the kids needed to know how they were related and what their parentage was. When the time came, we would hide nothing: our babies would be told who was their birth mother, but we’d both still be “Mom”. Julie was still “Mom” to Jenn and my unborn child. I was still “Mom” to her growing miracle. We all cherished every child born in this home equally. This was how our love and our family would work.
Even while we were both pregnant, Julie still loved to watch Cay fuck me, and even when she couldn’t watch, such as times she went on business trips, she would still encourage us to go at it regularly. Not that we needed encouragement, but Cay and I loved having her blessing to fuck each other with abandon. More than once, she’d come home and walk inside to find Cay bending me over a table, driving his beautiful hard cock into me. I’d be so turned on when my darling Julie walked into the door, haggard and exhausted after a trying day at work, and then immediately be bombarded by the greeting of my son making proper use of his mother’s pussy.
Sometimes, she’d tease us a little. “Honey…! How could you?! And with my best friend?!?” she would play-sob. Cay and I would pause our fucking, stare at her, and ask which of us she was talking to. We loved doing that bit.
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