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 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 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.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
