Trouble with Triplets

Author's note: I did not mean to leave it this long between posting stories! A combination of real life, working on full novel and good old procrastination kept me away, it seems. For anyone that has read my other work, I do hope to continue with Sins of the Ancestor but I've hit a mental block with the plot I'm trying to work through.

On the other hand, this story of Ellie, Izzy, Malc and Tom is already plotted out. I just need the impetus and time to get it written. The story will conclude in either 1 or 2 parts more, that depends how long they run and whether I find a decent place to split the tale.

Constructive criticism of any and all kinds is positively encouraged!

***

Hey, catch a film ;)

Dammit, Izzy. I knew exactly why my sister wanted me gone: she was getting laid. I couldn't complain really, she had received many messages from me at uni saying the same to her. That was before my ex, Terry, showed the world his true colours.

I wasn't bothered about her shagging some chick she's pulled. Hell, she was always wonderfully mellow after a good fuck. My problem was that I'd just finished my shift at the coffee house and had left my purse at home. She wanted an hour or two for unrestrained fucking, but I didn't want to wander round Edinburgh in the snow in January while she got on with it. Too fucking cold for that shit.

I tapped my mobile screen, wishing that we hadn't just closed for the evening and I could chill in a snug corner of the coffee shop. No such luck. I stamped my feet as I rang one my best friends for an escape, someone I guessed was in the same boat as the third flatmate: my brother, Malcolm.

I guess right now you're probably wondering why a grown woman of 23 lives with her siblings. You're probably thinking of your own family and how strained things are with them.

I can't imagine that but it's different for me. Izzy? She's my identical twin. Malc? He's my fraternal triplet. Three kids, two eggs, one womb. Makes us damn close siblings. Closer than I knew then, in fact.

He didn't answer. Was probably already busy somewhere but that left me up shit creek. Still, I knew where my paddle was, it was just a matter of sneaking into my flat to find it.

We lived in New Town, thankfully close to work in the commercial area in a set of flats built over a run of small shops. Four stories of two bedroom flats flats with external corridors and stairs. Aka, fucking cold. Do

not

touch the metal railing people.

I eased my key into the lock, amused at the notion of sneaking into my own home like some naughty teenager. I could hear Izzy moaning with heat alongside the soft squelching of fucking as I stepped into the flat, easing the door to.

Our flat opened into the living area, a thankfully empty room that I crossed quickly. Sat on a unit in the corner was my purse.

"Christ, Ellie, your arsehole is so fucking tight."

I froze. There was so,

so

much wrong with that I literally stopped to process what I'd just heard.

First. My sister, the lesbian, was fucking a guy.

Second, he was in her butt. Fucking ow!

Third, my sister is Isobel - Izzy to everyone. I am Elspeth, Ellie to everyone. She was pretending to be me!

Fourth, I knew his voice. It w-

"Fuck my up-tight arse! Go on, ream me like you fucking mean it!"

Pain and anger blistered through me at Izzy's cry of encouragement. Stealthed be damned, I grabbed a half finished pint from the coffee table as I stormed through the flat and burst into Malc's bedroom.

I opened the door in time to see my brother slam his hips forwards, fingers digging into the flesh of Izzy's hips, and a spasm of climax rock his body. Izzy was on all fours, leaning on her left elbow with her right hand buried in her snatch. Her fiery curls whipped around as she startled in my direction. Her eyes widened.

"You pair of cunts!" I hurled the glass at them but my throw was shit. The glass tumbling, warm beer splattering across the pair.

"Utter shitbags!"

I was out of the flat before I realised what I was doing, eyes streaming as shame burned alongside the revulsion that filled me. My legs knew what I needed, powering me through the open air corridor and down the stairs back to the street.

I walked blindly, my attention devoted to the image scored into my mind. My siblings, the two people I loved and cherished more than anyone on the planet, locked in incestuous rutting. Worse, I could still hear them. My brother calling out my name in his perverted lust, my sister urging him to use her body as if it were mine.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I yanked it out of my skinny jeans as I dashed my eyes clear of tears. It was Izzy. I killed the call and shoved it into my jacket.

Pain, anger and shame coiled in my belly, winding endlessly. I wanted to throw up, scream and punch someone, all at once. I hated them for hurting me, and more for hiding their secret from me. Fuck's sake, Izzy was gay! A lesbian, a damn kitty-tickling, rugmuncher. Why the hell was she screwing our brother?

My phone buzzed again.

"Fuck. You.

Ellie

." I poured all the scorn I held into my own and hung up before she could speak. I jabbed the power button to shut it down, to shut them out.

"Izzy?"

I spun towards the voice. Tom Derby, Malcolm's oldest friend, stood just paces away. He looked me up and down swiftly and frowned. "Okay, Ellie, what's happened?"

I never knew how he could always tell me and Izzy apart, but her usually managed. I shook my head, not wanting to voice their incest. He nodded sharply. "You need a wee drink. Whiskey?"

***

Tom was a lucky sonnuva bitch. Genetically, he hit the jackpot: tall and dark with a leanness that most people slave in the gym for. There was more, on his sixteenth birthday and now legally allowed, he bought a lottery ticket. He had five numbers and the bonus ball, netting him a cool six figure sum.

And that was how he afforded the deposit for his flat in Old Town, despite having just one year on us. Glass clinked as he poured a measure of JD each. I know, we're both Scottish and prefer bourbon. Sue us. I took my drink and sipped it, glorying in the burn it left in my mouth.

"Okay then, Ellie. Izzy's fucked up somehow?" A snort preceded my nod. Not sure how that snuck out. "And you don't want to share what it is, this some special twin-stuff?"

Remember how I said Tom had been around us via Malc for pretty much ever? He claimed that we had trip-speak and twin-speak. Trip-speak was a code we three devised deliberately when we were little, whereas twin-speak is something Izzy and I fell into by accident. Maybe it's the genetic marker being so close, I know many think that. I'm more inclined to think it's a gender thing. Malcolm would be separated from us fairly regularly, Izzy and I always got to stick together, ergo we developed twin-speak.

Twin-stuff is like twin-speak to Tom. He knows it's there and he respects that it's private. I shook my head. "No, not exactly. It's... ah fuck, it's just shit." I wasn't sure yet that I understood what was going on, let alone could explain it to someone.

"Well, glad that's all cleared up then. What do you need?"

I shook my head and sipped the booze. I glanced about his small flat, looking for a distraction. "How's Jessie doing?"

Tom winced. Nice one, Ellie. "Don't know. We've split up, she took her things on Friday." Jessie and Tom are a volatile couple that have dated off and on since I was fourteen. Tom was my first big crush, a guy I'd look at and get those funny-but-nice squirmy feelings for, and while nine years had passed since they got together, I'd guess they had only been a couple for two thirds of that time. Jessie taking her stuff from his flat was hardly a frequent occurrence, yet nor was it unknown.

"Bugger. I'm sorry, I'm sure she'll be back in a wee bit. Wha-" Tom's phone rang on the table in front of us. I glanced and saw Izzy's name on screen as he picked it up. "Don't answer that!"

He didn't, instead giving me a penetrating look. "Ellie, they're gonna want to know where you are."

"But I don't

want

them to know that." He looked at me reproachfully and answered the phone. Bastard. I threw back my drink in protest, moving to his liquor cabinet for a refill as if I wasn't listening to every word he spoke.

"Hey Izzy. Yeah, I've seen her, she's here at my place with me. Uh, I'm not sure that's a goo- hello?" I turned to find him looking at his phone with bemusement. "She hung up on me. I... didn't know you liked Jack that much, Ellie."

My tumbler was half filled. I shrugged. Carefully. No need to risk spilling my drink. "Told you not to answer, she's gonna come here now and we'll have a domestic on your doorstep."

"Oh. Damn, that's not what I meant." His awkward well-meaningness struck me as adorable as he didn't quite meet my eyes now. "I'll call her back."

"Don't bother," I gulped some Jack, "won't stop her now. Tom, am I uptight?"

The abrupt change of subject threw him but then, he hadn't had Izzy's voice repeating it constantly for the past hour.

"Yeah. You know, compared to Izzy and Malc. Am I the uptight triplet?"

Tom squirmed uncomfortably in silence.

"Ffffuck, I am. Aren't I? Shitballs." I could feel the buzz of the drinks warming me now.

"Hey, Ellie that's not... look, I don't think you're up-tight. Malc is laid back, he always has been. Hell, you know how he is, if he relaxed any more he'd be a jellyfish.

"And we both know how often Izzy finds herself a girl for the night. You were with Terry for, what, four years?" I nodded. "And he was your first." I reddened. "You broke up months ago now, was there anyone since?"

Ground never does swallow you up when you want it to. It was my turn to fidget but I, at least, answered him with a nod.

"Damn; I suck at this. Ellie, there's no shame in a number. Zero, one or Izzy's thousands-" I snorted. I knew her number, well, I thought I did at least, and she was still in double digits. For now. "-I wasn't trying to embarrass you. Hell, I'm right there at one with you."

"Wait, you mean you and Jessie have only ever had each other?"

"No," Tom sighed wearily, "I mean me. Jessie has been with others."

"Oh." Nice one, Ellie, way to piss over him sharing. Why not just break his furniture too. I knew they had been virgins when they met, and had had a long ass relationship before finally getting jiggy with it. Now she'd gone elsewhere, whether they were together or not when she had that had to hurt him.

The awkward moment was broken by knocking on his flat's door and my sister's voice. "Ellie? We need to talk."

Like hell we did.

I was already standing, I got to the door before Tom and yanked to wide. Izzy was dressed now, bundled in her thick, multi coloured woollen coat, her hair bursting out under its matching woollen hat. She claimed it was lesbian chic, I always thought she looked like a Jackson Pollock painting on the move.

"Ellie, thank-" I punched her. It was pure emotion that drove me. Seeing her, looking at me with concern so soon after I caught her in flagrante, it set something off in me, something I had no desire to hold back.

I meant to break her nose. I must have betrayed myself though as she jerked back, leaving my fist to strike her in the mouth.

We fell apart, her hands clasped over her mouth, me clutching my fist as pain roared from it. Shit, I was bleeding too.

"Ellie!" Malcolm and Tom shouted in unison at me. My brother moved to Izzy as Tom took my shoulders, pulling me to him.

"You're hand's bleeding. Go and wash that, TCP is under the bathroom sink. Go." He gave me a push to get me going. I faltered, trying to see if I'd hurt Izzy but Tom gave me a determined push. I could hear him talking behind me with Malc as I walked. "Look give her space-"

"She's our sister, she should be with us."

"She's pissed you and won't say why. She's safe here, let her-" the click of the bathroom door cut off Tom midword and I turned my attention to my hand, happy to focus on something simple.

Ow. Really fucking ow. Simple and painful.

One of my knuckles was split, the skin on the back of my hand torn behind it, probably from Izzy's teeth. I'd felt them graze skin as my fist connected. And my wrist throbbed painfully. That was the first proper punch I'd ever thrown and I think it's safe to say it had gone wrong.

I turned on the mixer tap with my left hand and was rummaging in the cupboard when Tom knocked.

"Ellie? Can I come in?" I grunted out a yes, wincing as I put my cut under the warm water. "I've told them you can stay here tonight, my sofa pulls out into a bed."

"Thanks," clear of the flow of blood, the wound looked superficial. Ragged and painful, but mostly scored flesh with just breaking the skin in a couple of spots.

"Here, let me." I'd been fumbling with the first aid kit Tom owned with my left hand. He snapped it open and drew out the supplies.

I hissed when the antiseptic hit me, stabbing at my hand. Tom chuckled, what a git. "Not enough JD, clearly." I huffed in agreement, that TCP stung like a bitch. He led me to the side of the bath and had me sit down before he tenderly treated my wound.

I watched him work. Watched how his brow furrowed as he focussed on his task, how his hands moved with gentle precision as he checked the wound. I must have winced at some point, because he carefully moved my hand up and down, left and right before murmuring something about a sprain.

I guess it's masochistic to say was this was the moment I decided to fuck him.

I waited for him to finish, my hand had gauze over the back and was well wrapped in a bandage. He gave me a supportive smile and left to give me some space.

The mirror showed an unattractive version of me. Bags hung under my eyes, the smudge of mascara I'd applied for work had left streaks down my cheeks. My hair, ever unruly, had reached a new height of tangles, now appearing to be the frenzied nest of some hyperactive bird in mating season.

One handed, I washed my face then raked my curls into something vaguely presentable. I don't feel arrogant to declare myself hot. Unlike most people, I can literally view a three dimensional version of myself anytime I want and, well, you know Izzy's record for pulling already.

We're blessed with high cheekbones and a narrow chin, a small pointed nose and green eyes (Izzy calls them 'emerald', especially when she's seducing someone but that makes me gag) that offset our naturally deep red hair. We have curves, with C cup boobs and hips Terry had loved to grab. If anyone saw us both intimately - fuck, did Malc count? - then they could see a difference in us. I run daily, it's the first thing I do after my morning pee and has given me a lean musculature to Izzy's softer curves. I planned to use said body tonight.

At some point, Tom had ordered us pizza and I'll admit, I decided my seduction could wait while I enjoyed the cheesy-meaty-heaven that he supplied. We watched a rerun of one of his sci fi shows (Deep Space Five or something, I didn't pay attention), drank a little more booze albeit with a mixer and chewed the fat for two episodes. With ad breaks, that was almost two hours I spent wondering what he looked like naked.

I tried not to squirm for the entire time but the longer this went the more like torture it became. I wanted Tom, wanted to see those dimples smile for just me, wanted to hear his groans as I gave him pleasure, to feel that body pressed to mine.

I wanted to taste his cock before I rode him.

As the credits started to roll for the second time, I hit standby on the remote. Tom's words, whatever they were, were robbed as I swung my leg over his lap and straddled him.

"Err, Ellie?" I smiled, leaned close and kissed his startled lips. Just a small kiss, my mouth as light as his touch had been earlier.

"Ellie." His whispered my name, giving me tingles in just the right spots. "What are you doing?"

I stole another kiss, just as chaste as before despite my hormones urging me for more.

"Multiplication."

Her jerked back, eyes dropping to my stomach, hidden behind my black work-blouse. Wait, did he think I meant... Oh crap!

"Nonono!" I flapped my hands at him. "Not that! I meant our numbers, turning our ones' into a two!"

"Oh!" His relief that I wasn't after his baby was palpable. "You mean addition. Wait, you mean... you and I have... sex?" Man, I suck at this seduction thing, he wasn't even sure that's what I wanted. Sod it, there was one trick that had always worked on Terry to try.

I leaned into him, winking as I didn't trust me not to fuck up speaking again for. I didn't kiss his mouth this time, instead I nuzzled his neck.

He twitched when he felt my hands in his lap. Damn, he wasn't hard yet, I really am rusty at this. I loved my kisses higher, tickling the pressure point behind his ear as I felt at his belt. I loosened his buckle and a thrill ran through me at his groan of approval.

Finally.

Trying to get someone's trousers off whilst they are sitting is never graceful, but his position made it too awkward for me to get a hand into his tight boxers. I did take the chance to rub my hand over his cloth-covered organ. God, I had missed that feeling. Terry and I had split up over ten months ago and there'd been no one but the showerhead since in my life.

Tom, here and now, was stirring to life, twitching the fabric with each pump of blood that swelled it. I slipped back, lifting my butt and taking the waist of his jeans and his boxers in hand. He lifted his hips and I yanked them both down his thighs and exposed his dick.

I slid off his lap, lowering myself to the floor to get a good look at the second cock I'd seen in the flesh. He was uncircumcised, the foreskin easing back as his length swelled. I reached out to grasp it, then frowned and switched from my bandage wrapped right hand to the left.

It was hot to touch, the flesh of it still yielding softly as his erection grew. His trousers were still high enough not to impede me and I leaned closer, pursing my mouth. Years ago, I'd read in a magazine that eye contact was a huge turn on for guys when getting a blow job and I was curious if it worked on someone other than my ex.

As my lips met the head of his cock, I blinked slowly and opened my eyes to look into his. He was staring down at me incredulously, his lips parted with shock. I winked at him as I mimicked him and let my lips open. I stroked gently, feeding his growing manhood into my mouth.

This might annoy some feminists, but I have always found sucking cock to feel damn empowering. Yeah, I was on my knees which I'll admit is not the most take charge of positions but as I drew him into me, he heaved out a groan of pure longing that made my clit throb with my own excitement.

I flicked my tongue slowly over the tip, loving the way his eyelids twitched halfway closed as I did. I may be on my knees, but right now he was subject to my every whim and that thought thrilled me in ways very few did.

He must have been nearly erect now, my mouth widening to accept his growth, knowing I had caused it.

I moved my left hand, using it with my lips to form a tunnel as I slowly bobbed down and back up.

"Fuck," Tom whispered, "Ellie, you sure about this?"

I snorted a laugh, lifting quickly enough to avoid any accidents with my teeth on him. "You wait until I'm sucking your dick to check that?" I kept pumping him with my left hand, hoping it felt good for him rather than the awkwardness I had.

"Err, well," ha! He was blushing, I wasn't sure guys could do that while sporting a boner. "I don't want to take advantage of you."