Fun Times and Threesomes

Ladies and Gentlemen, thirteen years (almost to the day) since I first posted a tale on Literotica, I have finally gotten around to posting an entry to a competition -- please find herein my entry to the 2018 Valentine's Day Comp!

Please do give me a vote if you enjoy this tale, it's a slow burn but it's definitely worth your patience. I may not be the most impartial judge but I am quite pleased with it, definitely hoping Mr and Mrs Valentine's antics give the other entrants a run for their money.

Many thanks to honey28 for her invaluable beta-reading services and years-long friendship, do skip over and read through some of her many high-quality tales once you're done here.

Cheers -- aussie_101

*****

CHAPTER ONE

*****

I could tell right away that there was something going on between Jamie and Brett.

My name's Callie, I'm forty-one years old and a mother of three. My sister Jamie is two years younger than me: a mother of two, happily married to Mick. She's sleek and slender, like myself, but three inches taller than my own five-foot-five frame; bottle-blonde, while I've let my hair go to a natural dark brown.

Brett, meanwhile -- he's a bit of a long story. He's the father of my youngest sister Lizzie's two children; he and Lizzie are both two years younger than Jamie, Lizzie being the youngest of our family.

Brett and Lizzie were never really officially 'together.' They met via Tinder, and three months later they fell pregnant. Liz was quite aghast at the time, but Brett took it very well, and he was determined to play a big part in their child's life. While Lizzie and Brett never took off romantically, and their relationship eventually grew strained and went cold, Brett nonetheless proved himself to be a great father to their little girl and our family welcomed him as one of our own.

What with Brett's backstory with our sister Liz, plus the knowledge that Jamie and her husband Mick had the strongest and safest relationship one could ever hope to achieve, my eyebrows were definitely raised as I observed Jamie and Brett together at one of our regular family brunches. Lizzie had not made it to the shindig, needing to sleep through the morning after one of her regular night shifts, but we were all glad to see Brett arrive with their little girl in his arms.

Jamie seemed especially glad. After giving our cute little niece a cuddle, Brett got a pretty nice greeting of his own, which he returned in kind. Nothing overt, of course -- we were surrounded by children, and our parents, and our partners -- but it was enough for me to notice: a lingering hug between the two of them, longer than what seemed usual, plus a much more heartfelt peck on the cheek for Jamie than I had earned from Brett a few moments prior.

Not that I'm jealous, mind. Well, not super jealous, at least.

And to top it all off: they stayed together a few extra seconds, cheek to cheek and chest to chest. Brett's back was turned to me, but I saw him turn to say something into Jamie's ear. This earned a truly beatific grin from Jamie, all warmth and delight, and I saw her turn and murmur something in return.

All of which, if taken separately as by most casual observers, may amount to nothing. But I saw it all. I guess I'm just nosy. And suspicious. And, with my own messy divorce entering its third year of protracted and highly acrimonious court battles, I'll freely admit I'm always on the lookout for a saucy distraction. And I reckoned I had just the very thing going on right in front of my eyes.

So, as soon as they separated, I moved in to quiz Jamie. "What was that, Mrs Valentine?" I demanded, grinning.

Jamie hesitated, looking startled for the briefest of moments. "What was what?" she tried to cover.

"Don't give me that," I admonished. "You and Brett looked extremely chummy just now."

"What?" she frowned. "We were just saying hello."

"And whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears," I added, teasing her immensely.

Jamie had her cover up though, and she rolled her eyes at me. "Are you that hard up for sauce and scandal that you're looking for something between me and Brett?"

"You know I am," I freely admitted.

"Are my tales of fun-times and shenanigans with Mick no longer enough for you and your vicarious living, then?" Jamie went on. "Are you bored of all that?"

"Well, can you blame me?" I returned. "All you guys ever do these days is fuck each other in the back seat of your car after your fortnightly date night. Getting a bit repetitive," I added.

Jamie sought to look affronted, but it was all show and we both knew it. We loved to needle each other like that, we each gave as good as we got and we both secretly appreciated the hard teasing. It served only to reaffirm our sisterly bond and our love for each other.

"Well at least I'm actually getting some," she returned.

My jaw dropped in shocked amusement. "Low blow!"

"Yeah it was," Jamie admitted. "I'm sorry."

"It's all good," I laughed. "But really: what's up with you and Brett there, going the extra-long cuddle and whispering sweet nothings?"

"Honestly, there's nothing going on," Jamie re-stated. "I complimented him on how well he got Little Missy's outfit together today, that's all. It can't be easy dressing a toddler up for brunch, what with Lizzie conking out after her night shift and leaving him to do the heavy lifting."

"Uh huh," said I, unconvinced and making sure she knew it. "And what did he say to that?"

"He laughed, and he said Little Missy chose the outfits for him!"

I had to laugh at that too -- it seemed very likely, our niece was only two years old but she was the very height of precociousness.

"Honestly, Callie," Jamie told me, all seriousness now. "Mick and I are really strong. I would never go behind his back."

"Yeah I know," I assured her. "But still, you and Brett seemed awfully congenial just now."

"Yeah, you wish!" Jamie teased. "Then I might finally have some decent stories to share, eh?"

"That's right," I returned. "You're no fun at all."

I let her go, but I was not satisfied. I saw what I saw. I'm a pretty decent judge of character -- psychotic ex-husband notwithstanding -- and it all definitely had a whiff of the out-of-the-ordinary. So I moved through the house to find Brett.

"Hey," I greeted him, finding him knees-deep in toddlers in the toy room. "How's things between you and Lizzie?"

Brett sighed. "Stable," he reported. "Could be worse."

"Could be better?"

"Yeah, could always be better," he said, somewhat glumly.

Things had recently taken a turn south between Lizzie and Brett. Lizzie's always been frustratingly quiet about her private affairs -- very much unlike Jamie and myself, we take great delight in sharing everything with each other -- but from what we could gather, during an argument Brett had revealed a long-repressed resentment towards Lizzie for having fallen pregnant and introducing significant complication into his already-hectic life, what with his own recent divorce still causing him headaches. Lizzie had taken this extremely hard, and when the fallout settled they had agreed to scale things back to something not quite a friendship, but mutually civil so as to allow them both the minimum of fuss in sharing their time with their beautiful little girl.

Now I realise that I may have made Brett sound like something of a scoundrel -- a trawler of Tinder, ex-wife and ex-girlfriend, haphazardly impregnating the womenfolk, and so forth -- but I'm happy to report that he is actually a really great guy. Brett has always been very warm towards all of us, personable and often quite funny, with an endearingly cheeky glint in his eye at all times. It doesn't hurt that he's also very easy to look at, with high cheekbones and a square jawline, broad shoulders and strong legs, and rather a nice arse on him too. Jamie and I had discussed and agreed upon as much very early on in the piece -- Lizzie had introduced him to the family shortly after he had knocked her up, and when Jamie and I compared notes later that evening via Messenger, we both expressed a newfound admiration for Lizzie in having managed to bag a catch such as Brett.

"I'm always going to regret how I handled things with Lizzie," Brett went on. "It's not that I don't like her -- but that's the impression she got from me and she won't let go of it."

"You know Lizzie," I sympathised. "She gets very firmly set in her take on the situation. Give her time, I'm sure she'll warm up again."

Brett only nodded at that. I really felt for him; we all felt he had shown a lot of grace and class, given the circumstances of their very sudden pregnancy. After she dropped the bomb on him, Lizzie had straight up offered him the chance to simply walk away and never worry about her or her baby ever again -- this much we knew, she didn't mind sharing all of this at the outset of their situation -- but Brett had very firmly refused to simply turn around and forget he'd ever met her, going on to prove himself as a wonderful dad to their Little Missy and a great guy all round.

But enough about that. "So then," I said. "What's up between you and Jamie?"

I had hoped to catch him completely off-guard, having started off on talk of his situation with Lizzie and then snap-shifting the topic to him and Jamie. But he merely blinked at me. "What do you mean?" he replied, looking the very definition of open, honest confusion.

"Come on," I goaded. "I saw the way you guys greeted each other, what with the extra-long cuddle and kisses on the cheek. And the little murmured words in each other's ears..."

I had him -- he was grinning ruefully. I had him!

"Come on then," I urged him. "Spill! What's up between you and Missus Valentine, hmm?"

"Nothing's up," he assured me. "I reckon you're probably just picking up on the massive crush I have on Jamie, that's all."

I looked at him. "What?" I said. "Just a crush? No, that can't be it."

"Why not?" he frowned. "You know Jamie -- she's lovely. And she's really easy on the eye. I'm not proud of having a crush on her, especially given how I came to know Jamie -- and all of you -- through Lizzie, and with the way things are between Lizzie and I. And Mick's such a top bloke, I rate him a really good friend. But, well," he said, "sometimes crushes can't be helped!"

I looked at him, and saw the truth in his eyes. Dammit, he did have a crush on her. And of course he would be crushing on Jamie -- everyone always did! Legs to next Friday, a great arse, fine womanly curves despite her lithe figure and smallish boobs; I had always been jealous of Jamie's pull with the boys, even from an early age.

"You look disappointed," Brett observed, with something of a half-smile.

He had me, but I covered with a joking glare. "The boys always crush on Jamie," I muttered. "Not sure why I'm surprised, really."

He laughed at that. "Callie," he chastised. "You seemed to think there was some sort of sordid tryst between me and Jamie. Would you really prefer that to this? She and Mick are so good together, they and the boys make such a lovely little family. For anything to step in and jeopardise that—"

"I know," I told him. "I know. I've got a failed marriage in my past too," I reminded him. "You don't need to remind me of the rarity, and preciousness, of what Jamie and Mick have. It's wonderful," I added, in case my words came across in any way spiteful. "I'm glad they've maintained such a strong bond, really I am. Guess I was just looking for some scandal to spice up my life," I added, all truth.

Brett gave me a small, sad smile. I knew he, just like me, was not proud to have a divorce in his past. I knew he had done it for the best, exactly as I had done for my young ones, but speaking from my own experience: it still feels like a failure no matter how it came about.

We shared a short little hug, and I left him to tend to his wee one. And I bee-lined to Jamie, who was chopping fruit to place on a platter.

"Brett has a crush on you," I told her.

Jamie just looked at me as she kept on chopping.

"He does!" I crowed. "He confessed it to me just now."

"Why would he say such a thing?" Jamie sighed, clearly choosing to not believe me.

"I grilled him on your lovey-dovey greeting, just like I grilled you," I told her, which made her pull a face at me. "And he told me there was nothing going on—"

"See," Jamie interjected. "Just like I told you."

"Yeah," I allowed. "Except he also said that I must have been picking up on the great big dirty enormous crush he has on you!"

Jamie sighed; her patience for my needling appeared to be wearing thin. "Callie," she began. "If Brett does actually have a crush on me, I neither need to know nor want to know. You know that I like him, and you and I both have always appreciated how warm and respectful he has always been towards all of us."

"Drop-dead hunky, too," I reminded her.

She huffed another irritated sigh at me. "But if he is crushing on me, that's his business, Cal. Not mine. Nor yours. I'm perfectly happy not knowing one way or the other, and I'm just going to go and forget that you ever said anything on the matter."

I pouted. "You're no fun."

"Uh huh," she returned. "Besides," she added, "if he is crushing on me, it only stands to reason he's crushing on you too."

Now it was my turn to frown at Jamie. "What makes you say that?"

"Come on, Cal," she groaned. "You're just as attractive as I am and you know it."

"I know nothing of the sort," I informed her. "I'm past forty! You're still in your thirties."

"There's only two years between us, Callie," she reminded me. "And you don't look your age."

"Neither do you."

"How many times have we been mistaken for twins?" Jamie went on. "We have similar features, similar physiques."

"You're taller," I mumbled.

"Cal, you're basically a ninety-per-cent scale model of me!" Jamie declared. "You're a hottie, Callie, and there's no denying it. I've always been jealous of your looks."

"I've always been jealous of yours!"

"Aren't we silly?" Jamie smiled, which lifted my spirits wonderfully. "Callie: if Brett has the hots for me, he's dead-set got the hots for you too. Maybe instead of looking for things that aren't there between me and him, you could bend your mind towards what could be between the two of you, hmm?"

My mouth fell open at the very possibility. "Do you really reckon..." I began, but I cut myself off. "No. Not with Brett, I couldn't. Not with his history with Lizzie. Not with everything I've got going on, and everything he's dealing with too. No. Couldn't happen."

"And yet, none of that applies to your fantasies regarding him and I?" Jamie prodded, archly.

My shoulders slumped as I finally let go of the idea of Jamie and Brett sharing a dirty little secret. "Man," I sighed. "I really thought I had you guys."

"I'm sure you did," Jamie told me, sounding more than slightly condescending, and she punctuated her statement with a wink and a grin. She had finished chopping and arranging the fruit, and she handed the platter to me. "How's about you make yourself useful and take a few things out to the dining tables?"

"Fine," I groused. "Love you, Valentine."

"I love you too, Cal."

And so I let it go, deciding to set my energy towards enjoying another boring old family brunch as best I could. Brett and I sat together with our children during the meal. I pondered whether or not to tell him that I'd told Jamie of his crush on her, simply for the thrill of being a shit-stir, but then I thought on how she had turned it around on me and suggested that Brett likely had a crush on me too. And that brought me to silence.

Brett, crushing on me? Could it be true? I mean, I know I'm not unattractive. In my more vainglorious moments I tended to fully agree with Jamie's assessment that she and I were more or less on an even standing, in the hotness stakes at least. And there was no doubt in my mind as to my attraction towards Brett -- rakishly handsome, powerfully built, funny and outgoing and respectful all at once...

But no, I told myself again. For Lizzie's sake, no I would not ponder the possibility of Brett and I. She had no remaining claim to him, they were very definitely separated and he was just as free to move on in the romance stakes as she was. But she was my sister. You just don't do that.

So I had thought, at least, until an hour later when I went looking for Jamie -- and found her in the laundry, her legs fully entwined around Brett's hips, his pants around his ankles and hers lying on the floor. And they were fucking frantically.

*****

CHAPTER TWO

*****

I was stunned.

Jamie and Brett were fully going at it in a highly pornographic display. I watched as Brett's long, hard, veiny shaft thrust in and out of Jamie's pliant, grasping pussy, her moisture coating the both of them.

All of that was incredible enough, and it was a hard-fought battle for me to tear my eyes away from their thrusting hips and bared bouncing buttocks, but there was more to see above the waist -- the way they kissed each other was something else again. This was not just a low-key shag, not just a quick and hurried, introductory or exploratory union; Jamie and Brett were hot to trot, clear as day. The hungry way their hands caressed each other, the greedy and needy way they kissed, eyes closed, urgent and yearning, breath hissing inwards and sighing outwards as they broke shortly every now and again for air -- there was something going on between these two, and it wasn't something small.

And it took them more than a few seconds to realise I had busted them. Jamie's eyes had opened -- perhaps she had sensed my presence as I stood at the laundry door, frozen with shock and delight and utter bewilderment -- and she murmured a quick "oh shit" to alert Brett to my intrusion. Once he had cottoned on, they very quickly disentangled and retreated to a safe distance, whereupon my eye was immediately drawn to Brett's big old cock.

Brett saw me looking, and uttered a "Jesus Christ!" at himself before he grabbed a loaded laundry basket and hoisted it in front of his mid-section for cover.

"Uhh, Callie—" Jamie tried, even as she hoisted her shorts back into position, but I quickly cut her off.

"I fucking knew it!" I crowed triumphantly -- but quietly, not wanting to alert the whole house to my discovery.

Recovering from his awkward moment, Brett couldn't help but laugh. "She's got us, Jamie," he was forced to admit.

"Dammit Brett, pull your pants up," Jamie instructed. "I thought you said you locked the laundry door!"

"I thought I did lock it," Brett returned; he dropped the laundry basket, giving me yet another very welcome look at his still-twitching member -- slick and shiny with my sister's pussy juices -- even as he redressed himself. "This isn't my house, remember? If anyone should be in charge of locking doors, it should have been you."

"You guys are together," said I, interjecting into their little tiff. "You are, you're getting it on -- even now while you're surrounded by family. And you denied it!" I went on, to the both of them. "You both denied that there was something going on, but here you are shagging on in the laundry. You sneaky little fuckers!"

"Cal..." Jamie sighed.

I stood struggling for a moment, a thousand questions competing in my mind to be asked first. "Does Mick know?" was the most important question of all, in reference to Jamie's much-loved husband.

"Yes he knows," Jamie assured me, all dead-seriousness. "We have his blessing."

"And he has his own little, umm, 'arrangement' on the side," Brett added.

I simply boggled. "You guys have an open marriage?" I asked of Jamie.

"Yes!" she hissed, quick and quiet. "Can we all please get back out to the crowd now? Mick might know, but I don't want to cause a scene in front of the whole family."