Coming Together

Chapter 5: Coming Together

In the previous chapters, our intrepid hero (me) came to the rescue of his aunt, who was struggling with her husband's sudden stroke and resulting paralysis. A sexual triangle developed between my aunt, my uncle and me. Then my mother found out. Some weird stuff happened; eventually, Beth (my mother) and I found each other. Then Uncle Frank died; afterwards there was a different triangle: Ada, Beth, and me. I met a girl my own age but there was no way to explain my complicated situation, so we stayed at the "friends" stage, which she seemed to be fine with. Then—as if to add a cherry to the top of my complicated-as-a-soap-opera ice cream sundae life—Ada told me she was pregnant.

Franklin, Junior, was born July 8

th

. Beth moved into the house to help Ada with the baby. In fact, she moved in with Ada on a permanent basis. She let the old apartment go; she converted her accounting job into a part-time remote gig. She sold most of her stuff; she sold most of

my

stuff. She moved in with Ada and became "Aunt Elizabeth" to little Frankie.

Frank and Ada had been well-off when Frank, Senior, was alive. After his death, Ada was

extremely

well-off. With the house completely paid-for, her main expenses were food and upkeep. She insisted on covering my college tuition as well as giving me room and board until I graduated. If I could get into law school, she would pay my tuition in full.

For Beth, without the need to pay rent, and without the need to cover my tuition plus room and board, a part-time income was plenty. Whatever she and Ada had discussed that night after Frank's memorial service cleared the air between them. Now they got along amazingly well. Ada needed Beth's help—not only for the baby, but also for financial planning and tax stuff. Mom paid her own way. It wasn't charity, is what I'm saying.

My senior year well went really well. Yes, there was a crying baby in the house, but I had noise cancelling headphones. Plus, I learned to get up in the middle of the night to get a bottle ready, feed Frankie, and then get back to sleep. I might yawn occasionally but I attended all my classes and got all my schoolwork done. I also did really well on the Law School entrance exams.

And there was sex.

At first, Ada wasn't ready for intercourse. It took her like two months for her body to heal from Frankie's birth, then another couple of months for her exhaustion to fade to the point where she could consider doing something other than worrying about Frankie's needs. The two of us didn't have sex from just before Frankie's birth until almost Thanksgiving. Then we sort of clicked back into place.

Giving birth changed Ada's body. Her breasts were larger and her nipples a bit fatter. Her hips were wider; her butt a big bigger. She started to resemble Beth more closely, though she remained the taller sister.

In that nearly five-month period between Frankie's birth and Thanksgiving, Beth and I slept together almost every night. Yes, our nights were often interrupted so that one of us could take care of Frankie, but we managed to get some intense lovemaking in between Frankie's cries.

It was an amazing period of my life, living with two women I cared for while caring for a baby. There was so much love in that house you wouldn't believe it.

*****

The pastor who had given Frank's eulogy started visiting us more and more after Frankie's birth. At first, I wasn't sure why he showed up. After a few months of his visits, I realized that he needed us more than we needed him. I'm just saying.

Turns out, his marriage was on the rocks and he was scared—no,

terrified

—that if he got a divorce, the congregation would kick him out. As I knew, Ada's old church was super conservative about things like that. We became a kind of refuge, a sanctuary (

hah!)

for him.

His name was Gary and he started to hang out with us. He would come over for dinner, play with Frankie, eat the food Beth or I cooked, and drink our wine. A couple of times, he had so much to drink that he needed to spend the night in the guest room. I have no idea what he told his wife on those nights. From what little he shared with us, she probably didn't care what he was doing. She might not be at home either. It wasn't a great marriage, is what I'm saying. Still they kept on pretending because, after all, he was the Pastor Of The Church and she was the wife of the Pastor Of The Church.

I'm sure Gary heard Beth and me having sex from time to time on the nights he stayed over, even though he was probably pretty drunk. I have no idea what he thought about a mother and son doing what we did. All I can say is that never said or did anything to make me feel he was judging us. Maybe he knew that if he did make the wrong comment, he would be out on his smarmy Christian ass in no time at all, and his precious congregation would hear all about his failing marriage. Or maybe he just felt as if he was a guest in this house and whatever happened under the roof was supposed to stay under the roof. I don't know; I just know that he kept what he saw and heard to himself. He was pretty chill, I guess. He and Ada seemed to get along pretty well.

By this time, we had remodeled the upstairs to better meet our needs. My room was twice the size it had been, with an

en suite

bathroom and a work area on the side. Beth and I shared a king-sized bed. Ada's bedroom was slightly smaller now, though she had plenty of room for Frankie's crib and changing table. Beth had a separate room, which was also the guest room that Gary used on the nights he drank too much. The room that had formerly been Frank's office was converted into what would soon become Frankie's bedroom.

When Ada declared she was ready for sex again, we worked out a system that seemed fair to everyone. I would spend weekends sleeping with Ada in her room while my mother slept in "our" room—alone. On the other nights, Ada would be alone in her room while Beth and I shared a bed. If I complained that Frankie only seemed to cry on weekend nights, Ada and Beth scoffed and told me not to complain when I was getting laid nearly every single night.

Acknowledging the truth of their rebuttal, I shut up.

*****

Ella and I continued to casually date. She studied as hard as I did, so there wasn't a lot of time available for socializing. Ella also knew about Frankie. We both had good excuses for not moving our relationship to the next level, is what I'm saying. Still, when I looked at Ella, I felt something. I mean, I felt there was something there. If it weren't for my crazy, fucked-up home situation, I would have pushed harder for more. But I was still stuck because how could I possibly explain to this beautiful, intelligent, girl I was fucking

both

my mom and my aunt?

Right.

There was no way.

So, we dated. We talked. We texted each other nearly every day. We grew closer but nothing physical happened. Writing this, the situation sounds weird and stupid, but that's the way it was.

Until she took charge and initiated some changes.

But all that happened after I graduated, after I started law school. I could tell you the story of what she did and how it changed my life forever, but it would be a digression. For purposes of this story, we continued to date casually while I was fucking both Ada and Beth.

*****

This next thing really happened. It happened between the time Ada announced she was pregnant and the time she gave birth. When it happened, she had a baby bump but it wasn't yet very pronounced.

Pregnancy made Ada horny. I'm not complaining in the slightest. I'm just saying.

One night she whispered in my ear that Beth was going to come visit us for Easter. "We talked about your

thing,

" she said, "and she's agreed to make your thing happen. Think of it as your early graduation gift."

"My 'thing'?" I asked, puzzled.

"You know. Your thing.

"No. I don't believe I know what you're talking about. What 'thing' do I have and what did you and Beth discuss?"

Then she whispered in my ear. They had discussed my fantasy.

My fantasy.

The one I had confessed to Ada a year ago. The one she said would never happen. My fantasy.

My cock got super hard in record time. I felt Ada smirk when she saw the effect her words had on me.

"Oh, so you

like

that we're going to make your thing happen—don't you?" she asked as her hand stroked my cock firmly. I honestly couldn't answer her question at the moment, because my mind was full of questions and mental pictures about how it might all go.

I did manage to eke out "FUCK" when she took me deep into her mouth and started to suck me, that smirk still on her face the entire time. I didn't last 30 seconds. I screamed and came hard, shooting down Ada's throat and filling her mouth. She swallowed it all.

"Now eat my pussy," she ordered. "And while you do so, think

very

hard about two women fucking you at the same time."

*****

Easter arrived.

Easter was not really our holiday, since we weren't super into Christianity. Ada had always celebrated Easter with Frank, until Frank couldn't celebrate anymore. This was her first Easter without him.

We accompanied Ada to church. She walked proudly into the church, her beautiful dress showing a decently sized baby bump. There was a lot of pointing and whispering. To anyone who asked, she explained about the miracle baby she and Frank had created in the final month of his life. The story might have sounded sus at any other place than in that church, on Easter Sunday. But right there, at that time, they all bought her story hook, line and sinker. I'm just saying.

Beth looked really good as well. I was wearing my "going-to-Frank's-funeral-service" suit and tie, so I was decent-looking. The three of us made a good family picture, is what I'm trying to say.

The church choir sang songs I didn't know but I mouthed the words anyway. Gary did his sermon thing. There was a point where he invited anyone who hadn't accepted Jesus into their lives to raise their hands. At least two people raised their hands and he did a little prayer thing; then they answered "yes" and I guess that was all they needed to do to officially join the Jesus Club.

Cool.

Good for them. Whatever. I didn't raise my hand.

When the service was over, we hung around for a bit. I had a doughnut and some burnt bark coffee. Beth sipped apple juice. We watched as Ada talked to her old friends and explained about the miracle baby. (I wanted to capitalize "Miracle Baby" in that sentence but doing so didn't feel right. At least, not on Easter Sunday.)

We came back home, changed into more casual clothes, and had a late lunch. Then we cleaned up the kitchen, put the laundry into the washer, and looked at each other.

Beth took a deep breath. "Is this really going to happen?" she asked Ada. She didn't look at me.

Ada nodded. "Jim wants it. He was there for me when I needed him; now I want to return the favor but I'm running out of time to make his fantasy come true. The baby will be here in just a few months."

Beth looked at me. "This is your fantasy? Two women at the same time?"

I shook my head. "No. Not just two women at the same time. Or just ... not two

random

women at the same time."

She quirked a small smile as Ada watched us both. "Go on."

"I want both of you at the same time. Both naked, in the same bed. And not just, uh, pleasuring me. Pleasuring each other, as well. I want us all in bed, fucking each other. Making each other come. Until we're all exhausted and can't come anymore."

Beth's smile grew. "I see. You really

are

a perv—aren't you?"

She looked at Ada. "You think you can do this, sister of mine?"

Ada hesitated. A faint blush appeared on her cheeks and neck. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Do you think you can, uh, be with me?"

Beth shrugged. "Well, I guess we'll find out."

*****

As it turned out, the awkwardness didn't last very long. Beth's willingness to try anything helped Ada to relax and go with the flow. That Easter Sunday afternoon—and the evening—feels very special to me, even now. It feels sacred, to be honest. It's hard for me to write any of the details down.

Surely, you can imagine it. You can imagine me going down on both sisters, alternating pussies, driving them both towards orgasm. Ada was a screamer but so was Beth. And Beth was multi-orgasmic with my finger in her pussy and my tongue on her clit. I remember Ada watching with something akin to awe as Beth came over and over again, her cum covering my face.

I remember Ada turning red when Beth let me fuck her in the ass. Ada was so turned on that she begged me for the same thing. It took me a while to recharge but I made it happen. It was the first time we did anal since those three non-consent fantasy nights; it was also the last time we ever did that act. Never again did I shoot my cum into my aunt's rectum as she screamed out her own orgasm.

They shared my cock, kissing, sucking, and licking it. They giggled as they teased me into shooting all over their faces. They kept giggling like teenagers as they fed each other my cum and kissed it off each other's faces.

And yes, they ate each other's pussies while I watched. At first, I thought I was completely done. After all, I had already come four times that afternoon. I mean, I'm not Superman. But Ada and Beth really got into it; they made each other come at least twice. By the time they pulled away from each other, panting, I was hard again.

Ada pulled me into her pussy and I fucked her hard while Beth watched, rubbing her fingers against her clit. We all came more or less together.

Then I was well and truly done. Not just physically, but emotionally, as well. My ultimate fantasy had just come true. I had made love to the two women in the world for whom I cared the most. I felt ... complete. That's the best description I have for how I felt that Easter Sunday.

We all kissed each other for the longest time and fell asleep as the late afternoon sun turned into evening. When we woke up, nobody said anything but then we all kissed again and it was all good.

It was all so very, very good.

That moment is the end of this story.

*****

Hi readers. Ella Jones here. Jim said he couldn't write anymore and asked me to finish the story he started. I agreed. After all, this is the part I know just about as well as he does.

I first saw Jim in a second-year business class during our second semester. Maybe it was Statistics, or maybe it was Accounting. I don't really remember but I remember him. I noticed him at once, even though he didn't notice me.

Here's what I noticed about Jim: he acted like an adult.

While the other guys talked about sports or parties (or girls), he didn't. He didn't join in any casual chit-chat. It was like he was focused and serious about school. His attitude wasn't the only thing I noticed about him. He was in good shape but he wasn't all muscle-bound like the jocks. He was nice and he smiled, but he wasn't all pretentious like the fraternity boys (or sorority girls). In a room of children-becoming-adults, he was already there. That's how he seemed to me, anyway.

I found that aspect of him really attractive. If ever I was going to hook up at college, I wanted it to be with a man instead of a boy.

He wasn't stand-offish but he wasn't really very approachable either. He was focused on the professor, not the people in his class. He did the work. He learned. That's what he was there for and that's what he was all about. Again, I found Jim's drive and focus to be really attractive.

I finally cornered him and got him to have coffee with me in the Student Union. Even then, he was friendly but ... distant. Like he was afraid for me to get too close to him. I don't know about you, but I found that aspect incredibly attractive as well. Some girls like the bad boys; I like the ones who have secrets. They're like a puzzle I want to solve.

Our little friendship went on. Every time I thought it might go to the next level, though, he pulled away. He admitted he was seeing someone else. Not a heavy, committed, thing—but a thing where dating me seriously would hurt the other person he was with.

That was actually fine with me. I didn't tell him, but I was currently in a similar relationship with somebody else. I wasn't really ready to date anybody else seriously, though having a friend like Jim was amazing.

I didn't have a lot of friends.

I told Jim that my mom had died when I was twelve. That wasn't totally true. She didn't die; she left us. She left me alone with Dad when I was twelve. She had to "find herself" she said. I'm pretty sure she found herself with her CrossFit instructor, but Dad never said. She never contacted us again. So, to us, she

had

died. After she left, it was just Dad and me, alone together.

Dad took my virginity when I was eighteen years old. Not on the day of my birthday; nope. But a couple of months thereafter. I gave myself to him willingly. In fact, you could say I seduced him. He had been my best friend for years. Being with him sexually just felt like an extension of that. I know that statement won't make any sense to most people, but that's how I felt about it. Dad—Oscar—and I had sex a lot in the summer before I went off to college. During college, I came home at least once a month for even more sex. It was amazing. It brought us closer together. I regret nothing.

The problem was, how did I tell anyone about my secret incestuous love life? How did I explain my situation? Especially since I didn't want to stop having sex with Dad, even as I knew (at least intellectually) that—sooner or later—I would need to move on with a man more my own age.

And there was Jim. Already a man, at least in his approach to life. Taking care of his aunt and uncle. Cleaning. Doing chores. Cooking. (Who doesn't love a man who can cook?) Putting his family first and his academics second and his personal enjoyment of life a distant third. A young man filled with mysteries.

The more I learned about Jim, the more I knew he was the one for me. There was just this one,

huge,

secret between us. My secret kept us apart. I knew that when I told him about Oscar and me, it would all be over. He would run away from me just as fast as his legs could take him.

*****

Jim wants me to write more about my sex life with my father. After all, he says, he was pretty open and frank about what he did with Ada and Beth. It's not really in my nature to be open like he is but, for him, I'll try.

I realized that I had feelings for my father—Oscar—gradually. It wasn't a sudden onslaught of sexual need. Instead, my desire for more intimacy grew over time. I guess everything came to a head after the disaster that was my senior prom. My date—Larry—seemed to be a nice guy, but he was a complete asshole after the prom was over.

I'm not stupid. I knew what was expected. The post-prom fucking is a kind of rite of passage for many teens. I get that. I was eighteen at the time and, legally, an adult. I had been on birth control pills since I was 15, in order to better control my monthlies. You might think—as Larry obviously thought—that I was ready to lose my virginity. I thought so, too.

But then, in the back seat of his Mercury, with my panties down around my knees and his fingers probing me ruthlessly, I changed my mind. I realized I wasn't ready—at least, not with Larry. As Larry stuck one, then two, fingers up my not-particularly-wet pussy—completely ignoring my clit—I realized that the one I wanted to give myself to was my father.