Maisy could not remember ever being more angry in her life. She tried not to let the kids see just how riled she was as she made sure they were buckled safely into the car, but from the unusual quiet coming from the back seat, she knew the older ones knew. Fortunately, the little ones in the middle seat seemed to be oblivious to her mood, and they cheerfully started to beg for a trip to the ice cream shop on the way home.
Maisy gave in immediately, knowing that ice cream would also distract the older kids from trying to figure out why Mommy was mad at Daddy. Usually when they went to have lunch with their Dads at the office, they would stay a little while and play in the yard outside, or watch the men at work. Today, “Ma-ma-maisy” hurried them out as soon as they were done eating, and didn’t kiss either Daddy goodbye.
At home, she shooed them all into the play yard and went to see if her wife Brooklyn was awake. Breastfeeding their newest little girl, Brooklyn was on maternity leave from her job at the magazine. One look was all it took. “Oh no… what did Nash do now?”
“He hired Schuyler Agassi to do one of their commercials.”
“You’re kidding! Schuyler Agassi? Tsai boo shr!” She exclaimed, then she paused a moment, and exclaimed again “Oh… my… god…. he didn’t…. and I’ll bet Quinn was completely clueless, wasn’t he?”
Maisy nodded. She had fallen in love with Schuyler Agassi at the tender age of ten when he starred in a popular show as the sensitive, smart, sweet adolescent boy who never seemed to get the girl. Along with thousands of other girls her age, Maisy had dreamed that if only he’d have a chance to meet her, they would fall instantly in love and live happily ever after. She held onto the fantasy through her own adolescence, even though the popular show eventually ended and Schuyler Agassi moved on to other acting projects, some less popular, some more, enjoying moderate success as an actor and celebrity. For Maisy, she had quickly abandoned the idea that they should meet in real life. That was a little girl’s fantasy. But she did keep his image in her mind and in her heart, and when she needed a little fantasy, he was the one her mind turned to. She had several different versions of him neatly put away in the drawers of her mind. One who was strong and muscular for when she needed the hero type, another who was quiet and sensitive when she felt like she just wanted someone to understand her, even if he wasn’t real. Dreaming of him had got her through many lonely nights and countless breakups and heartaches. Even years later, as a married woman, she kept him tucked away as a convenient fantasy lover, someone who could fulfill every wish and would never do any of the annoying things her real lovers did.
“Quinn was clueless,” Maisy confirmed. “But in his defense, he was handling some minor crisis at the time.” Quinn also stubbornly believed that since Maisy liked chocolate, she must enjoy chocolate ice cream with chocolate chunks and chocolate sauce, hot fudge, chocolate whipped cream and a chocolate covered cherry on the top. Really, that was just completely overwhelming, and not really enjoyable at all. Maisy would much rather have some strawberry ice cream with just the right amount of hot fudge. Her wives, Brooklyn and Evonne, understood this. Her husbands, Nash and Quinn, continued to think that if she liked chocolate a little, then she would really like to have it in mass quantities and concentrations. “Quinn probably didn’t even remember my obsession with Schuyler Agassi when Nash suggested hiring him. But Nash definitely knew. He had that little smile on his face when he introduced us, and he was watching to see my reaction.”
Maisy stooped to pick up the next littlest, who was calling “Ma ma ma Maisy!” from hes crib. She snuggled her to her own breast and settled in a rocking chair across from Brooklyn.
“You don’t think Nash told Schuyler Agassi that his wife fantasizes about him, do you?”
Maisy was glad for the calming hormones starting to course through her from the stimulation of her suckling baby, because the thought of what her husband had done and what his motive might be just made her increasingly angry. “He better not have. And I don’t think he did, because Mr. Agassi was perfectly nice and didn’t seem at all “weird” when we were introduced. But he is a very good actor, and he might have just been polite…”
They were interrupted by their young next door neighbor coming over as she did every afternoon to help out with the kids. She checked in with both Moms about which kids had bandages because they actually had a scrape or cut, and which had bandages only because they demanded to have one just like their sibling. The girl sat with the moms for a few minutes, watching the kids playing in the yard, then went out to play with them and get them all worn out before naptime.
Maisy and Brooklyn switched babies and continued nursing. “I don’t know what’s got into Nash lately.” Brooklyn wondered. “Things are going well at the office. Maybe he didn’t take enough paternity leave when our little girl was born… I know he’d like to spend more time with her and the other kids.” By the luck of the draw, both of Brooklyn’s children were Nash’s, and both of Maisy’s were Quinn’s. Evonne had one child with each husband. Six children was on the small side for a group marriage on Kingdom Come, but not unusual. The three wives had hinted that they were happy with the current brood, and if they ever did decide to have another baby, it wouldn’t be for quite a while.
Their wife Evonne came home at the usual time, and announced “I brought something special home for dinner tonight! Nash and Quinn hired Schuyler Agassi for a commercial, and they’re bringing him home for a meal and to meet the family!” Seeing Maisy go completely white at the pronouncement, she added “Yes. Nash is an ass. He feels threatened by your fantasy, and he wants to punish you by seeing you squirm.” She started to arrange a variety of dishes into the warming and cooling drawers, according to what each one needed. “Of course, it doesn’t matter that not only are we happily married with six wonderful children, but Mr. Agassi himself just married his longtime girlfriends and boyfriend. They have three wives and two husbands, just like we do, so we have something in common!” Evonne took the plates out of Maisy’s hands and together they set the large table for six adults and six children. Even the babies sat at the table during meals, just to be social and participate in the family’s nightly ritual of sharing supper. “I know that tonight is going to be very difficult for you, and maybe more than a little awkward, but we can get through it with grace and maturity, then later on we can all have a talk with Nash and discuss his motives for choosing that particular celebrity.”
Husbands and guest arrived while all the children were washing up, being lectured by all three moms that they had company for dinner and should all show off their very best table manners. Mr. Agassi was very patient and shook hands with all but the two babies. Those he admired, and cooed over, sharing that they’d just got the news that one of his wives was pregnant with the family’s first baby. He seemed comfortable enough to be seated between the two oldest children, who kept trying to offer him more food than he could possibly eat. Although the children were taught to always call non-family men “Mister”, the celebrity encouraged Nash, Quinn, and their wives to call him Schuyler. The kids settled for “Mister Schuyler.”
Fortunately, having been warned that she would be eating dinner with the object of her adolescent affections, Maisy had rehearsed with Evonne just what she would say to the man. Soon after they were all seated, Maisy herself brought up the fact that she had a huge crush on the actor when she was ten, and all three wives made flattering comments about the various acting projects they’d seen him in over the years since. Nash spent much of dinner with the baby girl in his arms, a gesture that all three wives recognized as his favorite defense mechanism. It was hard to get mad or yell at their husband when he was holding a baby, even if he really deserved it. But to his credit, he followed his wives’ lead and did not go on to hint about how Maisy still fantasized about the actor as a grown, married woman. Quinn, blissfully unaware of the subtext around him, inadvertently helped by going on and on about business, asking their guest about how he preferred to work and what he would need to complete the various recordings for various media and markets.
Maisy was sure she was blushing through dinner, but Evonne had conveniently seated her so that Maisy was on the same side of the table as their guest, and had two children and one other adult between them. She could participate in the conversation, but didn’t have to make undue eye contact. Nash was at the end of the table with the baby’s high chair, nearest their guest, so Maisy wasn’t close enough to even be tempted to kick him under the table. She did have a few uncomfortable moments when the actor and object of her girlhood affections would say something that reminded her of some romantic scene either in a movie or in her own fantasies, and she would blush and suppress the memory.
After an appropriate amount of after dinner socialization, their guest began to hint that he really should get back to his hotel for some sleep before the busy day ahead. When Nash started to move to be the one to drive the actor back, Brooklyn interrupted. “Quinn, could you please drive Schuyler to his hotel? We noticed a dimple in the baby’s cheek today when she smiles a certain way, and we wanted to see if it’s in just the same place as Nash’s dimple.”
It was the strangest excuse they’d ever heard. Maisy and Evonne choked back laughter, and Mr. Agassi seemed to realize there was something a bit strange about the request, but politely didn’t say a word. Quinn, oblivious as ever, simply smooched the nearest wife and said he’d be back in a flash, promising to pick up milk on the way home.
“Now where’s that dimple?” Nash quipped, trying to hide behind his baby girl as the other men left and all three wives turned to confront him. “Oh, and I think you need a new diaper, too. I’ll just take care of that….”
“I’ll change her diaper, sweetheart.” Brooklyn took the baby, leaving her husband still facing two angry wives. Any man who ever fantasized about having a marriage with more women than men was simply thinking about the gender imbalance that probably meant he would never have to worry about having at least one woman in his bed each night. He certainly wasn’t thinking about a scene like this, being confronted by not just one, but two wives, with a third wife waiting in the wings taking their side.
And his only husband, his wing man, was out of sight for at least an hour. On top of that, they’d taken away the baby he’d been using as a defensive shield. “Daddinash!” came the rescuing cry of their baby girl, almost one year old and toddling around happily.
“Do you want to play blocks? I can play blocks with you!” he said, scooping up the toddler. But he wasn’t safe, as both wives followed him to the family room where the other children were already playing.
“Nash, out of all the celebrities on this planet, why did you go out of your way to hire Schuyler Agassi? He doesn’t live anywhere close, and he’s successful enough to be a lot more expensive than you need for your average car commercial,” Evonne asked. Maisy was glad to have her wife there standing up for her, because all she really wanted to do was slap him across the face, shout “How could you do this to me?” and run off crying to the bedroom.
“Well, this isn’t just any car commercial. It’s a very expensive car, and we actually have quite a generous budget for it.” He helped reposition a block the toddler had just placed on top of the tower they were creating. “Besides, I thought Maisy would enjoy getting to meet him, she likes him so much.” He added, carefully not meeting their eyes.
“You don’t remember me saying, on several occasions, that although I’d obsessed about him since I was just ten years old, I never actually wanted to meet the man? That although I was absolutely crazy about him and went out of my way to see every flick and show he’s in, that seeing him in person would just pop the bubble of fantasy I have? Don’t you know what that fantasy means to me?”
“Oh look! Your tower’s about to fall over! Evonne interrupted, motioning for the two of them to take the argument away from the kids. The older ones looked up, realizing there was some kind of conflict in their usually safe and secure world, but Evonne soothed and reassured them that Daddinash and Mamamaisy just needed to have an adult discussion.
Nash followed Maisy down the hall. “It means you think of him more than you think of me, that’s what it means.” He muttered. Maisy could hear the hurt in his voice, and for the first time wondered if there was more to the situation than she’d realized.
Out of both sight and earshot of the children, she turned to confront him. “Nash, I’m married to you! I’m with you all the time, and I think about you every day. Schuyler Agassi is a fantasy for me. Escapism. Early in the morning when everyone’s getting ready for their day and I just want one last little dream, I reach into my mind and he is there. In the middle of the day, when I’m driving a carful of kids around, and for a moment or two my thoughts take a romantic turn, he’s convenient. He has been since I was a pimply adolescent who thought she would never be loved, and never get married!” She took a deep breath, and let it out as a heavy sigh. “Do you really feel threatened by the fantasy lover I’ve had since I was just a girl?”
“But you’re married now. Why do you still need him? Why can’t you dream about me? Or Quinn? Or Brooklyn or Evonne? We’re right here! How much more convenient can we possibly be? Isn’t that enough for you? Don’t you get enough attention?”
That last comment stung. She had often been accused of needing too much attention, and she’d lost more than one boyfriend or girlfriend because of it. But as an adult, she’d learned she had to take care of herself, and not depend solely on the constant attention of others to make her happy. “Actually, no. It’s not convenient. I don’t carry you around in my pocket. Even if you didn’t have a demanding job, and we didn’t have to worry about the house or the kids or any of the myriad of other worries we deal with every day, it’s not realistic to think we might spend all our days stuck side by side, ready to make love on a whim.”
“I’ll make love to you on a whim. I’ll make love to you in the mornings… if you’d just say something, I’d gladly be late on any given day if you want a quick tumble. Or at the office even! Ai ya, Maisy, there’s plenty of people who would be more than happy to watch the kids for a while so we can have some privacy….”
“You want me to come by the office and drop the kids off with the receptionist and say “Can you watch these guys for a minute while Nash and I have a quickie on his desk?” Just how do we explain that one to the kids?”
“You know what I mean… you don’t have to be so blunt. It wouldn’t be that difficult for them to spend an hour having lunch with Daddikins while we have some “Quality Adult Time” together….”
Maisy didn’t know whether she was still angry, or flattered, or touched… Probably a combination of them all, and more. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she grabbed a tissue to blow her nose. She didn’t mean to cry. She didn’t want the discussion to deteriorate just because he hated to see her cry. She sat down and took a moment to compose herself. “You popped the bubble on purpose, didn’t you? You knew that if I actually met him in person, then the bubble would pop and I wouldn’t dream about him anymore.”
“If I admit that, will you be more mad at me, or less mad?”
Maisy was stunned. An admission of guilt was the last thing she expected. “You popped the bubble on purpose…”
“That looks like more mad, not less mad…”
“Yes! OK, yes! More mad! Do you know what that harmless little fantasy was to me? You crack your knuckles all the time. It’s not exactly a good habit, but you get some comfort from it. Evonne has her “happy place” where she imagines her whole body turns into a flock of butterflies, and carries off all the negative emotions she’s feeling. Should we start exterminating every winged insect in the garden because we’re jealous that our wife thinks of them when she needs something, instead of us? Or maybe we should get you some sort of therapeutic gloves so you can’t crack your knuckles!”
“Cracking knuckles or thinking about butterflies isn’t a replacement for a spouse! It isn’t a replacement for sex.”
“A replacement for…. A replacement for sex?”
“Yes, a replacement for sex. You hardly ever reach for me anymore Maisy, and when I reach for you, it seems more like you’re just doing me a favor, not really making love to me.”
Maisy was at a loss for words. She was satisfied with their sex life, and she thought he was too. With the long days and long nights on Kingdom Come, making love before going to sleep was almost a habit. It was rare that a day that went by without at least watching and petting. Maybe it was too rote, or too much of a habit… “Well, it may seem like a tired old song, but… you don’t bring me flowers anymore. You don’t rub my feet anymore, and I’ve stopped even asking because after we’d been married a few years, you admitted you only did it because you wanted me to like you and you hoped it would lead to sex.”
“That’s why you make love with Evonne more than you make love with me? Because she rubs your feet?”
“It’s not just that… when Evonne rubs my feet, she’s enjoying touching me and making me feel good. With you, foot rubs are something you find distasteful, and only do as a favor if you’re going to get something in return. Well, I don’t think of sex as a “favor” I’m doing… sex with my husbands and my wives is making love! It is a celebration of what we mean to each other, and truly desiring the others’ pleasure even more than desiring my own. So when Evonne rubs my feet, it’s not a favor she’s doing for me hoping that it will lead to sex. It is something she does because she knows it makes me feel good and she wants me to feel good. And yes, that naturally leads to sex a lot of the time.”
“You don’t want to have sex with me? Because you think I won’t do the things that make you feel good?” He avoided her eyes at first, but then caught her gaze directly, showing her the hurt he was feeling inside.
“I do want sex with you, Nash. We made love last night, and the night before that! What more do you want?”
He grabbed his head with both hands, frustrated and hurt. “I want you to want me, Maisy! Lately, when we make love, it’s like you’re trying to get me to come before you even come close to climaxing. I feel like you’re just doing what you have to so you can move on to being with someone else.”
Maisy had to admit that it was true. She didn’t even try to reach orgasm with him anymore, because he just wasn’t patient enough and when she did get close, he’d either say something like “Are you there yet?” or he’d reach his own release, and then it was over either way. She would much rather help him reach his release as quickly as possible, so she could turn to another spouse who could and would do what it took to satisfy her.
“I’m sorry. Yes, I do hurry through sex with you, but it’s not that I don’t love you… I do care about you, and I want you to get your own fulfillment before I worry about my own pleasure. I thought you would appreciate me making sure you get what you need first.”
“It would help me if you’d make some more noise when we make love. I can’t even tell when you climax half the time. When’s the last time I gave you an orgasm?”
She had to think, but then gave up calculating how much time had passed. “It’s been a long time, I suppose. But it’s OK, I have other ways to get there. We have three more spouses, and then if I really need to do it myself, I can certainly do that.”
“And think of him, I suppose.”
“And what’s wrong with that? Until today, he was someone so far out of reach that I knew I could safely turn him into anything I needed, without ever worrying about what the real person felt or wanted. But now, when I need that little fantasy, instead of being able to pull out some version of him that I’ve created in my mind, the first thing I’ll think of is that nice man my husbands brought home to dinner. A man who has a husband and three wives waiting for him back home. I don’t want a reality with him, I want my fantasy!”
“Why can’t you think of me when you fantasize? Is it the kilos I’ve put on over the years? Women aren’t the only ones who gain weight when a baby’s born. I’ve eaten through six pregnancies and six births, just like we all have.”
Maisy got up and slid her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. “I love you Nash. And I want you, and I find you just as handsome and desirable as I ever did. It’s not the lack of desire that pulls me away from you, it’s the fact that you just don’t enjoy doing the things that make me feel good. It just makes more sense for me to turn to another spouse who does want to do those things for me. I’ll still make sure you get what you need too.”
“What if what I need is to be the man who gives you an orgasm? Or multiple orgasms…” he started rubbing her back. That was one thing she did like, and he liked the way it made her breasts press against him. “I promise to be patient, and to do whatever it takes to get you there.”
She put her chin on his chest and looked straight up at him without pulling away from the back rub. “Is it OK if I still feel a little bit skeptical?” she asked, only half teasing.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll do anything.”
She laughed, knowing that he didn’t quite mean that. “Well, this back rub feels pretty good…”
“And this?” he said, reaching down to squeeze her buttocks, then running his hands back up over her hips to her waist, resuming the massage.
“Mmmm… I like that…” Her anger had dissipated, for the most part. Her husband could make her furious sometimes, but that was because he was her husband. Her spouses knew her better than anyone, and they could cut her more deeply than any friend or peer. But they could make up just as well…
“And what about this…” he kept one arm around her waist, holding her close while the other hand reached up to fondle one heavy breast.
“That’s good…” she said, closing her eyes. Then he squeezed her nipple. “Ow! No… that’s too hard…”
They were interrupted by the pitter patter of little feet running their way. “Nigh night Mamamaisy! Nigh night Daddinash!” The older four rushed in for hugs and smooches before Evonne hurried them past, off to baths and bed.
“I’ll take care of these guys, and Brooklyn has the babies, so you two can take your time resolving this little argument, OK?”
“Thank you Evonne!” Maisy gave her wife a quick hug and kiss, then took her husband by the hand and led him to the grown ups’ bathing room.
“Sex in the shower?” he asked hopefully as his wife stripped down and turned on the warm water.
“Foreplay in the shower. I feel sticky after chasing the kids all day, and you stink.”
He smelled one armpit, and had to agree with her. She opened the jar of little soaps and picked one that she liked, then started slowly rubbing it over his wet chest, working up a thick lather. She knelt to lather up his legs, but only gave minimal attention to his erect member, promising him more attention there later. He curtailed his disappointment, but returned the favor by soaping her from head to toe. When he reached her breasts, he asked “If I promise to be gentle, can I play with these for a little bit?”
She smiled and turned her back to him, saying yes by nestling against him and reaching her arms up around his neck to give him better access to her chest. As promised, he was very gentle, lifting and caressing the heavy orbs, slippery with water and lather. She sighed, relaxing a little under his gentle ministrations, till he squeezed one nipple just a bit too hard. She squeaked and pulled out of his embrace. “Careful with the nipples, please.”
“Sorry… can I taste them? Do you like it when I do that?”
It was a loaded question, and she hesitated to answer. She liked it when Quinn or her wives did it, but whatever Nash did with his mouth on her nipples just wasn’t pleasurable. In fact, it was slightly uncomfortable, but she knew he liked it so she didn’t complain. “Just be gentle…” she replied, but he noticed her hesitation.
“Maisy, do you like it when I suck on your nipples? Does it bring you pleasure when I lick them?”
“Well, Brooklyn has a certain thing she does that I like…” she half lied, skirting around the fact that of her four spouses, his mouth was the only one that did not bring pleasure to her nipples. “No teeth… and once she’s latched on she stays on. She doesn’t “shlurp” and let them go.”
“OK, I’ll try that…” he leaned over and gently took one nipple into his mouth. He hardly sucked at all, just concentrated on keeping his motions nice and gentle. “Was that better?”
“That was nice… but I want to move to the bed now. It’s not comfortable trying to stay upright while you do that.”
He nodded and they toweled off over the air drier, and they walked together back to the master suite. They saw Brooklyn in the nursery with their littlest and stopped to check on her. The baby was happily nursing, and Brooklyn was reading. She reassured them that Quinn had promised to stay up with the baby as long as necessary so Brooklyn could get some much needed sleep. She also explained that she had filled their husband in on what was going on, as he had seemed to be completely oblivious to the conflict.
Evonne had finished bathing and tucking in the little ones, including the toddler. She hugged them both, reassuring herself that they were both OK, then told them she planned to head for bed herself after a nice long bath.
They had both beds in the master suite to themselves, and together they turned down the sheets and blankets on one. They saw Brooklyn pass in front of the door to the anteroom where each of them went when they really wanted to sleep undisturbed by either spouses or children. It was far enough away from the nursery that she wouldn’t be automatically woken by a crying baby, as other spouses had promised to stay up with her that night. There was even a “slumber pump” she could attach to her breasts if she wanted. It worked on a timer and would automatically begin to pump milk at preset intervals. It was a choice… either sleep till your breasts got so full of milk that you woke up and had to pump or nurse, or hook up the slumber pump and have to sleep in a not so comfortable position, but at least be able to sleep or drowse through an entire night without having to fully wake up.
“I’ll be right back….” said Maisy, and slipped off to kiss Brooklyn goodnight and help her with the pump. When she returned to the Master bedroom, Nash was stretched out in bed, half reclined on the pillows waiting for her. He looked a little worried, so she smiled warmly and climbed in with him. She nestled into his arms and lifted her mouth to his for some warm, slow kisses.
“Nipples?” he asked hopefully.
She smiled and lay back, running her fingers through his hair as he gently suckled first one, then the other. Tense at first, she finally began to relax when it seemed that he would be true to his word and be gentle, with no teeth and no “shlurping”. He lifted himself over her and buried his face between her breasts. She arched and threw her head back, which he took as an invitation to nuzzle her neck. She opened her legs to embrace him and reached down to guide him into her. He penetrated her with a few slow thrusts, then settled himself over her so they were both comfortable. He kissed her once as he began to move in her with a familiar rhythm. But then he drew himself up on his elbows so he could see her face. She gazed back at him, touched by the eagerness and concern she saw in his eyes. Usually when they made love they both closed their eyes, moving through the familiar routine with well rehearsed precision. But this time he concentrated on what she liked, asking her “Like this?” and “Do you want me to slow down?” as he adjusted his movements in a way he hoped would make their lovemaking more pleasurable for her. She ran her hands over his chest and arms, enjoying the masculine feel of him, and told him so. Together they adjusted and readjusted their position over and again, experimenting a little and finding what made her feel good. Once or twice she began to climb towards her climax, but each time she got close he would unknowingly break the rhythm and she’d come crashing back down to her starting point again. She resisted telling him… he wanted so much to give her an orgasm, and she was fairly certain she could get there if they both showed some patience. Eventually they noticed that Quinn and Evonne were in the other bed, with the baby monitor glowing green on the side table.
He tried to roll over with her so she was on top, but as usual it didn’t quite work and she had to find a comfortable way to straddle him before impaling herself on him again. Maisy didn’t really like being on top, but it did make her more “in charge” so she could set the pace and take control of her own pleasure. She found a position that let him penetrate her fully, without her legs being bent into an uncomfortable way that might make them fall asleep. She started moving slowly, and at first he just watched her. His eyes went from her breasts back up to her eyes, then down again. He was trying to read her, but was constantly distracted by the bobbing, jiggly orbs. She increased her pace, having found just the right position, and he started thrusting up into her. She smiled encouragement, as this make it easier for her, but frowned when he suddenly stopped, bringing her crashing down to her starting point again. “Sorry, sorry, I had a cramp…” he explained, seeing her disappointment and frustration.
She leaned over to kiss him, reassuring him and telling him how much she loved him, then smiled and found her position again. She set the pace and he followed, and soon she was climbing again to that perfect place, that apex of sensation that would give her the release she craved. It had slipped out of her grasp so many times already this night, and she was almost desperate to finally capture it. She felt her body take the final steps towards release, when Nash’s voice interrupted her. “Are you thinking of him?”
Instantly she crashed down again, past her starting point, past the point of pleasure where there was nothing but an aching frustration. She nearly fell off the bed in her scramble to run away. “Maisy, I’m sorry….” He called after her, trying to detangle his feet from the sheets.
“Maisy?” Evonne called after her, squirming out of Quinn’s embrace at a most inconvenient moment.
“What the hell did you do now?” accused Quinn from the other bed.
Nash muttered something unintelligible as he finally freed his foot and chased the wives down the hall. Maisy had locked herself in the water closet, and he barely caught sight as the door was unlocked just long enough to let Evonne inside. “Maisy, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry! Please let me in.”
“Just give us a minute, please Nash.” Came Evonne’s voice. Obediantly, he stepped back and waited patiently. Behind him, he saw Quinn head into the nursery.
After a few minutes, Evonne and Maisy came out of the bathroom. “I have to pump now.” Maisy said, heading for the sitting room off the Master suite. “Why don’t you just go back to bed?”
Hurt and ashamed, he followed her back and stood there helplessly as she fumbled with the breast pump. Quinn walked in carrying their fussy baby girl, who was making insistent little hungry noises. “Would this work better than a pump? She’s hungry.”
Maisy eagerly reached for the baby and Evonne put the pump away. She made shushing noises as the baby latched on, then sighed as the happy hormones started to work their magic on her. She held a pad to the other nipple, which was leaking in sympathy for the other breast.
Nash sat quietly nearby, watching his wife nurse their baby, too scared to speak lest he insert his rather large foot into his rather large mouth again. He wanted to say something about him not being the only one to hide behind a baby, but fortunately he restrained himself. Maisy leaned back and closed her eyes, concentrating on the flow of milk to the baby. She didn’t want to think about whether or not she should be mad or should be hurt. Maybe she should have reassured him that he was the only lover on her mind at that moment. It was true… while she was with him, she didn’t need any fantasy to help.
Nash carefully moved over closer to her. She opened her eyes for just a moment, but didn’t kick him away. He picked up one of her feet, and gently began to rub it, hoping she would understand it was his way of apologizing. She did seem tense at first, but as he continued to massage her toes and ankles she gradually began to relax. Evonne handed him a bottle of lotion to use on their wife’s feet, then helped as Maisy switched the baby to the other breast. The tiny girl seemed more interested in playing with Mommy’s nipple than continuing eating. “She’s just as bad as you are…” Maisy quipped, looking at Nash, and the tension was finally broken.
None of them tried to resume their lovemaking that night. Maisy laid her head on Nash’s shoulder, as she did many nights. Evonne, feeling protective, snuggled up to spoon with Maisy. Quinn spent some time getting the baby back to sleep, then collapsed back on the other bed with the baby monitor.
The next day Maisy showed up in Nash’s office unannounced. Not only unannounced, but no knock, she just slipped in and locked the door behind her. “No kids?” Nash asked, surprised at the interruption and not exactly sure that she wasn’t still mad at him.
“They’re home with Brooklyn. A couple aunts dropped by, so they have some cousins to play with for a while.”
He watched, fascinated yet torn as his wife slowly unbuttoned her blouse, revealing a rather sexy bra he was quite certain he had never seen before. Not only did it push her breasts up and together, but it had peek-a-boo openings for her nipples that were obviously meant to show off, not breast feed. “I…. I was supposed to…” he started to explain, but she interrupted.
“Quinn has taken your special guest to lunch. And to answer last night’s question…” she discarded the blouse and proceeded to remove her skirt. “Although I still intend to keep him conveniently on a shelf in the back of my mind, when I’m with you, you are the one I’m thinking of.” She went to his arms and stretched up to kiss him. He hesitated only a moment, catching up to what was happening, then claimed her mouth voraciously and lifted her off the floor. She tried to wrap her legs around him, but she wasn’t high enough and he had to set her down again. They fumbled their way to the couch, tongues tangling and hands groping.
They spent a long lunch trying to find a comfortable way to make love on the couch. She could straddle him while he sat in the middle, and that felt pretty good, but Maisy wasn’t getting anywhere close to climaxing even though he took great pains to keep their rhythm perfectly steady for her. They finally ended up with her on her back with one leg up over the back and the other stretched up in the air. The couch wasn’t quite big enough, and Nash’s knee kept slipping off but together they managed to have a thoroughly pleasurable time, even though Maisy never did quite reach her orgasm.
That night, with the help of Evonne and Quinn, Maisy did reach her climax with Nash inside her. Although she never really felt the desire to scream or moan, even at climax, she did utter a breathy “yes!” as she came, letting her lover know she had indeed reached that pinnacle. And after a lot of practice, they found what it took for the two of them to find fulfillment with each other, and Nash finally knew that when Maisy reached for him it was not that she was doing her wifely duty, but it was because she knew her husband could give her everything she desired.
I wrote this in 2010, and it’s one of the first stories I put on the blog. Looking back now, in 2013, I still like the story but I definitely see some basic things that should be fixed. I was attempting an omniscient point of view, but it feels more like head-hopping. Still, it’s nice to see an early story and compare it to what my writing is now.