Triple Treats

The story continues... I hope there's someone still reading...

****

6 DOTS.

And so, madness begat madness.

April marched into Simon's lab on Valentine's day; lip locked the startled guy and jammed a ring on his finger and firmly announced "I DO!" before she strode back out of the room, skirt swinging and heels clicking. Simon examined his engagement ring and smiled a goofy grin a plastic surgeon couldn't possibly succeed in removing given a meat cleaver. He hadn't uttered a word. We three giggled in the corridor as we clattered off to find our next victim... I mean potential husband!

One down, two to go!

******

"Um, Joe, we'll be graduating and moving on soon... Is there something you'd like to say to me?"

"Well... I..."

Joe was no dunce. In fact he was a very smart guy; just needed the occasional discreet push. I hoped I was achieving 'discreet' when I judiciously hit him over the head with an encyclopaedia of medicine!

"Well, I suggest you get me a ring!"

"Um... okay!"

His 'surprise' proposal two days later at Mario's on Third was cute. I knew it was coming, god I'd proposed it, but he shuffled about nervously during the meal, talked gibberish and finally he ran off to the men's room where I suspected he threw up! This was a big step; a life time of commitment to the one girl, or in our case, three girls, but hey, who's counting!

When he returned to sit, looking somewhat pale, but definitely more composed, I just had to smile as his hand went for his jacket pocket. I dabbed a bit of 'sickie' carrot from his chin with a napkin.

"Um, May..."

I shook my head. My eyes indicated the floor.

"Oh, ah yeah." He sunk to his knees and floundered. "Ah, May, my darlin..."

"Yes, I do!" I grabbed the little purple box like a giddy school girl on crack. I had the pretty diamond ring on in a nanosecond, grabbed his silly head in vice like hands and wet kissed the entirety of his anxious face; the reality of my acceptance having not yet dawned within his stunned mind.

Patrons clapped, and my boy blushed. I wondered in that perfect moment just how he'd react to my approaching infidelity. Baby steps May, baby steps.

Across the street behind the binoculars, Pinkie giggled. My sisters kissed. Yep, they now had their second husband.

******

Capturing Jerry in our net proved more challenging. Jerry wanted his independence. His idea of a relationship involved keeping his woman on a short leash, living in sin, and having her bare foot and pregnant.

Pinkie explained after her initial forays into 'guiding' Jerry down the path of righteousness and into accepting the beauty of holy matrimony, was that the stubborn lug wasn't remotely interested! We had to come up with a plan, and what better one than denial of all things pussy related.

Pinkie started the process during her months on duty with Jerry. She would bounce away on his huge cock lost in multiple orgasms and to reality in general, but as soon as he started to swell, she'd jump of proclaiming she had a headache! As far-fetched as it was, he'd 'buy' her shit and try hard (pun intended) to get by, left to his own devices, or in his case, his right hand. Soon Pinkie was claiming stress and headaches on every occasion!

"Baby, what's the matter baby. You used to be insatiable. Now you're always unwell?" Jerry portrayed genuine concern, perhaps in equal proportion to his own 'needs'.

Pinkie did her best pouty eye flutter. "Well, it's likely just stress, I think. My sisters are all getting married and I'm not... and well, I feel old and frumpy and not wanted and..."

She told us she laid it on pretty thick, even produced some crocodile tears.

"I'll be an old maid and my sisters will all be happily married and stuff. My head hurts just thinking about it. I might have to..."

"Oh baby, if that's the only problem, then I guess I could marry you and..."

"Oh, don't put yourself out... I could just find someone else..." She pouted, sounding a little pissed.

"Hey, I love you gorgeous; I just wasn't really ready to settle down and..."

"So you want to play around? Do you have another girl?!"

He had two others of course, he just didn't know it!

"NO! I'm exclusive to you. You give me everything I need honey. Sometimes I swear it's like you change just to accommodate my different desires. Like, sometimes you want to be spanked, and then the next weeks you prefer sucking my cock like a hungry whore, you mix it up and I love that!"

"So marry me, or let me go... I need stability. I promise to give you more of what you like, well everything, except for back there..."

"Sorry, we shouldn't have tried that, and I'm sad you won't ever experience that thrill."

"That's okay baby, I'm sure I'll work around it." She almost giggled. "Now, what's it to be?" The pout was amazingly believable.

"Okay. Let's get married..."

They say Pinkies scream was heard in Antarctica by a seal. The headaches miraculously and instantly dissipated. She claims she rode him for two hours and he came six times. We haven't authenticated the claim, but I admit, on return, her poor pussy looked like a red raw, chicken broth soupy cauldron of pain. Her bum glowed from red hand prints and she didn't eat her dinner; said she was full! But she was skipping about like an excited Princess having scored her perfect Prince Charming!

A week later, via the binoculars we witnessed the proposal. Pinkie actually cried, bless her little heart.

******

The engagement's lasted seven months before the big day arrived. Rotationally we were with the correct man again. Of course we insisted on a joint wedding and we three walked the aisle in our pretty white virginal dresses arm linked and grinning like foxes.

Of course I held the green posy and wore green ribbon. One and Two were similarly and appropriately enhanced.

Our three husbands were certainly a sight to behold dressed in their tuxedos and finery. There was nearly a foot in height difference between big shiny bald headed Jerry and short skinny mop haired Simon. Joe, the Clooney lookalike, stood centrally and smiled as we approached, focusing only on me. I felt all woozy and grinned back nervously. Simon's smile stretched to his ears and big Jerry flashed his insanely white teeth and just nodded his total approval.

We recited our vows, proclaiming our honour, promising allegiance to our men and publicly announcing our deep and wondrous love. We kissed our husbands and we were married. Yay!

Now, once again I reiterate. In our minds we were the one conjoined identity, and if you can believe that then you should understand that we loved our three men equally. This was not us marrying one man and playing around and cheating. We were marrying one man, only he existed in three forms. The three husbands fulfilled our need to share and to be that one singular person we were, and in their three parts these men fulfilled that one desiring burning need that existed within us.

Wow, that sounded complex! But in my head it was simple logic.

******

Of course our wedding night turned into a mad debacle. We'd booked three adjoining hotel rooms, connected by doors through passageways that also gave access to bathrooms. The sound of a toilet flush would signal the sister in the adjoining room that a swap was desired. The excuse that one needed to pee would result in a mad rush into the bathroom to swap lingerie or whatever the other 'swapper' was currently wearing or, on occasion, not wearing, and then dash back and bounce excitedly on the recently vacated cock of a sister's husband. I crashed into Pinkie as she flew in to flush, and thus send her signal to me. We giggled and swapped ribbons, because we were otherwise nude. I noticed between her splayed legs that she was full of someone's cum! I wasn't! So, as to avoid discovery, I scooped a good amount out of her hole with my fingers, rammed the slop up my pussy and charged into Jerry's room to climb his freshly vacated pole!

April giggled later, saying that she'd run wildly into the toilet on hearing a flush and bounced off Joe's chest! He had needed a piss. She was in her own colours, so she squealed and tried to cover her bobbing assets from his blushed view. Ten minutes later, unbeknown to him, she was dressed in my green see-through sheerness and swallowing his cock anyway!

It was great when you had the middle room, because you had the choice to go either side. I heard Pinkie curse from the bathroom on my left after she gave the signal, because I ignored her, wanting rather to fuck Jerry again, and he was in the right side bedroom. I was waiting for that toilet to flush, but bloody April was hogging him, the bitch!

We actually finally fell asleep, exhausted. I woke in the morning, dressed in a blue cami with Simon's cock jammed hard up my cunt. He was fast asleep likely comatose. I extracted his member with a wet pop, snuck into my sleeping husband's room and shook April awake.

I whispered that we should swap back and that I had left the blue slip on her bed. She stripped and handed me the green baby doll.

"Oh, I forgot to say, you're currently naked and spooning, and his cock's in your pussy, okay?"

She nodded, gave me the thumbs up and padded off to her boy.

We were sorted. I cuddled in and slept like a baby!

******

Married life settled into seasonal cycles. We completed our post doctorate studies, and a few years later purchased a building downtown and opened our clinic using our trust fund. The business was called "Anything, Baby", and due to the three beautiful female, identical but diversified specialists in attendance, we were simply and continuously booked solid. We were now twenty six years old, and doing very well for ourselves.

Our husbands were also doing well.

We, as married couples, had each purchased three modest three-bed homes in the burbs within walking distance of each other. Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary, but homely and comfortable. We designated each as the 'blue house', which was officially Simon's and April's home, her being the blue triplet, the 'green house', which of course was Joe's and mine, and the 'house of pink'; Jerry's and Junes.

Each husband had dutifully been informed of our need, as siblings and triplets, that a once quarterly 'get-together' to celebrate the change of season, and to talk and re-bond as sisters, was never to be denied us. They, all three husbands, seemed to readily accept this desire and need within us as a way for us to stay close. Little did they know!

The last day of the season was a giggling squawking gaggle of story swapping, diary downloading and updating and lots of sister loving. Oh, and clothes swapping and the re-inking of our three fake bum dots, checking that we all displayed three exact and perfectly identical permanent markings. Of course this was a procedure we attended to on many occasions at the clinic. It was critically important that our fake dots remained in place at all times.

The wife leaving her husband that morning of the end of season was never the same one returning and it was important that this fact was never to be discovered.

I mean our husbands would never understand or accept the fact that they were sharing wives, but anything less for us was untenable.

The one or two days away at the end of a cycle, including an overnight absence, seemed to filter the anomaly of any small or noticeable difference between us to our vacated 'spouse'. An astute person might notice those differences given instant comparison, but a 24 hour or more separation diffused the probability of comparativeness.

Show someone the flag of Australia one day, and then the flag of New Zealand the next, and see if they can pick the difference.

But the first week of transition was always like walking on eggshells. Conversations with the previous spouse were still fresh and relevant, so feigning forgetfulness was not possible. Of course we were in constant touch at work every day, so our banter generally kept each one of us updated on what was going on in another's household and in the other's bed.

Our Joe was constantly 'worked over' those first few years and seductively manipulated by whoever it was doing his rotation.

"Baby," I announced one evening in mid-September, and a couple of weeks into my second season with him. "I know we've played the game heaps when we have sex, and when you eat me out, but wouldn't it be fun to actually try it?" It was time my beautiful boy.

"What honey, you mean..."

"Yeah," I dropped the towel as I swayed naked to the bed. My bad... so bite me! "We play the game all the time now, me pretending I'm fucking another man while you poke your little dick in my tight pussy." I reached down under the red curly tuft at my pubis and splayed open the object of his fascination. Joe was not only a voyeur but a numbers guy. He worked sums of money around for his big knob clients like he could remember the combination to a Rubik's cube and complete the thing blindfolded. But he was clueless as to the workings of a devious woman's mind. "When you drive that tiny cock inside me, and I like to pretend it's some big strong muscly Dominant man pounding his huge erection into me; you enjoy it don't you? It makes you really excited!"

"Well, yeah, but It's just a fantasy, you know. I'd hate it if you ever had sex with someone else honey." He looked worried. Little did my darling know, but two weeks ago I was banging his big black brother-in-law, and had been doing so for the three months previous... and ever since the beginning of college!

"But what if I found a man, a man with a big beautiful cock, and I bought him home and introduced you and you got to know each other and like became friends. I could let you watch him fuck me and it would be really exciting for you." I smiled. "Just what if..."

"But it's a fantasy, I couldn't..."

"Oh baby, fantasies can become reality if you want them too." I cooed and sank to the bed and engulfed his nice average penis in my warm mouth. True to form he gasped through two minutes of bliss trying desperately to hold out, thinking he might be offered a chance at burrowing his lovely little cock into my temple. That was a delight now rarely offered him.

Yes it was all about the training! But, remember, Joe liked it.

You see it wasn't a size thing really, although it was hard to deny that his average tool was less fulfilling than either Simon's or Jerry's. The real issue was the quick draw, and even thought he was good for three 'draws' a session, he could never last long enough or stroke precisely enough into our g-spots to induce a vaginal orgasm. This was Joe's only drawback. In every other way Joe satisfied immensely, but he was only just average in bed, and would have been well below 'par' if not for his exquisite oral skills. To raise Joe's profile above 'average', perhaps even to 'mega', we were determined to make him a willing cuckold, and that way we could reap every fine thing Joe offered, and also have a big cock on the side; a cock somewhere dimensionally and within the range of both Simon's and Jerry's. This outcome would raise Joe's status immensely, perhaps even to the top of the husband tree!

Call me a bitch, but just before he peaked I backed off and asked the question once more.

"Baby, would you like me to find a lover. It would make me really happy, and I'd love you so much for allowing it. You could watch on occasion, but there may be times when I'll want to have personal alone time with him... even without your knowledge." I kept him hovering on the cusp. "Please say you'd like it. Please baby?" I fluttered my lids.

"Aghhhh! Yes, okay... Ohhhh!!"

"Thank you baby, I love you." He ejaculated hard all over my hand as I capped him. Yes. I felt a bit guilty, but given how far down this rocky road we'd travelled, I guess I had become desensitised.

Of course I rang my fellow conspirators.

"Operation 'cuck' is a go, I repeat... GO! We have a green light."

And so it was that we set the mad plan into action.

******

7 DOTS.

I was hiding behind the curtain robes whilst Pinkie was siting starkers nude on the couch kissing a big naked blonde dude. April was in the closet, peeking between the air slats in the door. It was a Wednesday evening and my current 'husband', Joseph, was about to walk through the front door of the house of 'green'; we'd just heard his car pull into the driveway.

The 'dude' was Carl Hoffman, a big 6'2" blue eyed Ukrainian / German descendant with a ten inch cock. I should know, because I measured the thing. You see. We'd placed an advertisement inviting a 'Bull' to apply for cuckold duties. "Potent 'Bulls' need not apply, all applicants must have certified vasectomy papers." I'd written. We were certainly keen on getting nicely fucked, just not nicely pregnant and going bareback and messy was an important consideration in our debauched minds. So Carl was one of ten finalists we'd invited to the clinic, on application, and we checked and tested each one of them. Yes tested. I milked three of them with my hand and extracted their sperm into a test tube. I found out April sucked her hopefuls. I mean the... silly slut... just how professional did that look? When Pinkie rocked in looking guilty and handed me her samples I feared a malpractice suit! Two of the bastards had lied, unless they really believed their own pathetic excuse that perhaps the vasectomy had failed. One guy had a STD and another idiot had herpes too boot. We interviewed the remaining six, informing each that their duties, on successful 'selection', would involve fucking all three of us, sometimes in triplicate. Their eyes lit up like saucers! Two guys reluctantly admitted they were married (after having 'overlooked' that particular exclusion on application page), and then there were four. Carl stood out. He was handsome, fit, toned and six packed. His cock was a nice size and he was a self-employed builder, and successful too boot. He got the nod, and, when given the news, he cheered and high fived me! The final hurdle though, was that he had to prove his worth. Pinkie volunteered, her raised hand beat Aprils by a smidgeon. We stripped her in my office and led Carl in blindfolded and naked, so as to keep this tryout 'professional'. I aimed his cock and April shoved his ass from behind. Pinkie squealed! It took him a half hour to come, and Pinkie must have orgasmed a gazillion times.

Yep, we'd found our man!

The door slammed and Joe wandered in briefcase in hand. His smart brain was still likely crunching numbers. He stalled midstride, his eyes boggled and his jaw swung like an unhinged gate.

"Hi Honey bun. You're home?" Pinkie disguised only in a green hair tie smiled sweetly, jumped up and skipped over to plant a kiss on his pale cheek. Her bloody tits audibly slapped as they bounced. "Baby, I'd like you to meet Carl Hoffman. Carl, this is my husband Joe."

The naked Carl stood and walked to the still stunned Joe. "Yo man, good to meet you." Carl's cock swayed lazily, and pretty much horizontally. His hand stretched in greeting.

"Um... yeah..." Joe shook Carl's hand seemingly hypnotised. The big swaying cock did have that effect on you!

"Joe honey, Carl's here to fuck me, okay?" She cooed and moved in behind the big blonde. Peering around his torso she gripped the fat cock and lifted it to Joe's gasping countenance. "See, he's got a really big one, and I really want it!"

Poor Joe just swayed in place as my sister teased him. His mouth moved, but no sound ensued.

"Joe sweetie, we're going up to the bedroom now, you can start dinner, alright?" Pinkie smiled slyly once more and led Carl away by his dick.

I watched Joe stagger to the couch and slump heavily. He placed his head in hands and I almost ran out to put a stop to the hurt. But resolve stilled me. I knew that a cuckold had to suffer for his woman, and right now our man was struggling. I sensed his tears, his apprehension. He was a beautiful man and we were tearing him apart. I felt so awful when I heard Pinkie call out, "Oh Baby, oh you're so big." I could tell it was all theatre but I witnessed Joe cringe. He eventually extracted himself, walked to the kitchen and poured a Jack, threw it back and followed it with a second. Joe was not a big drinker. He collapsed back into his favourite chair and looked toward the bedroom forlornly. God, I wanted to cry for him. It was time. I moved out quietly from behind the curtain and moved in beside our beaten man.