My Three Wives update

Fires that had guttered in Nadine since Rafe’s death now returned to life. They burnt away her self-control. She had thought there was weakness in Nate’s confession that he could hardly hold back the savage flood of his cum while deep inside Chloe, Elena. Now she understood a bit of what he was feeling. Now she knew better.

The pulsating virility of the manhood burying itself inside her took her back many years. She was a teenager again, experiencing sex for the first time. She wasn’t in the bedroom, straddling her husband’s waist. She was in the backseat of a car, legs wrapped around her very first lover. The girl had barely known what to expect.

She hadn’t liked the pain of being entered, or the clumsy thrusts that had come after, yet there had been more to it than she had cared to admit at the time. She hadn’t gotten off then. Or the next few times she had fumbled around with a high school stud. 

But Nate was different. He thrust into her more like the kick from firing a machine gun than anything else. It almost felt like her real introduction to sex. She was back to real life and she was having the living hell fucked out of her. The idea made her as thrilled as if he were the first one to give her an orgasm.

Inevitably, Nate gave in to the momentum that had been building since Chloe, since Elena. His own resistance carried him past Nadine’s point of no return, but then he just had to surrender to her tightness, to the friction they generated together. He spilled wetly inside her, and Nadine cooed as she felt the flush of warmth travel into her far beyond where his seed could possibly go.

“It was different this time,” she breathed as she rolled off him. Chloe had gone to shower, but Elena was still there under the sheets, waiting to pamper her with cuddles. “Stronger.”

“No wonder, with you on top.” Nate pulled the sheets up his body. “I’m gonna have bruises.”

“Chloe has handcuffs,” Elena said.

From the open door to the bathroom, where the shower was running, Chloe said “I do have handcuffs.”

“It’s okay. This is good imagery for my novel. Now I know what my hero will feel like when he goes twelve rounds with a Mongolian cattle-puncher.”

“Now there’s a nickname,” Elena said.

“I think I’m pregnant,” Nadine said.

“C’mon, don’t people usually wait a little longer into the relationship to say stuff like that?” Nate asked. “At least until they want me to meet their parents?”

“My people can sense the immensity of love, the shift in energy,” Nadine explained. “We know when a new life has begun.”

“Does new love need a nap? I think we all could use a nap.”

“You should take me more seriously,” Nadine cautioned.

Nate reached over to take her hand. “Babe, I do. But do you know what the odds are that you’re pregnant? Just because you feel something—“

“I am patient. I can wait. You’ll see.”

“See that someone needs to get a pet,” Chloe said, coming out of the shower. “Alright, who sleeps on the wet spot? And keep in mind, I just got out of the shower.”

***

The women scrutinized the image as intently as any treasure map, as if trying to memorize its contours, its contrasts, every solitary iota of information the picture could possibly communicate.

“I think I see a thumb,” Elena said.

“That could be a thumb,” Chloe haltingly agreed. She turned her head to the side. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“I don’t know,” Nadine said, a hand resting on her belly as it rebelled against the fitness inherent in the rest of her body. “I’d prefer to find out by seeing for myself.”

“I’d thought it’d look more like Nate,” Chloe said. “Doesn’t even seem to be smirking.”

“It’s sleeping. Nate doesn’t smirk in his sleep,” Elena said defensively.

“He tries,” Nadine said.

“Doesn’t look much like you either,” Elena said. “No biceps.”

Nadine sat back in her chair, tired of leaning forward to the pictures splayed on the coffee table, and Elena and Chloe followed suit in their respective seats, couches and sofas arrayed around the table as well.

“Wonder who’ll be the stay-at-homer,” Chloe said.

“Kinda obvious, isn’t it?” Elena asked. “It’s Nadine. Gotta be.”

“Hold on,” Nadine said. “I am the one carrying it for nine months. After all that, you want me to change diapers too?”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed. “Besides, she has to get back to work. Private security doesn’t secure itself.”

“What about you?” Elena asked. “You’re between jobs at the moment. Nanny could be a good look for you.”

“Me?” Chloe crossed her legs, secure in her own roguishness. “Hell, while we’re at it, why not get Nate to do it?”

“Why not?” Elena pressed. She could picture Nate with a baby. It was a little attractive, really.

“I wouldn’t trust any of them with my baby,” Nadine said. “Or a small dog.”

“You married them,” Elena pointed out.

“And I love them—“

“Naturally,” Chloe interjected, crossing her legs the other way.

“But I recognize that some of them are lacking in maturity.” Nadine lolled her head over to Elena. “Not you, though.”

“Me?” Picturing herself with a baby was less attractive for Elena. “I have a job too!”

“You read the news, Channel 4 girl. You can do that and look after a baby.”

Elena demurred with a hand held against her chest. “I shouldn’t be saddled with responsibility just because I’m the only responsible one.”

“I am very responsible,” Nadine said. “I’ve been drinking lentils. If I can drink lentils, you can change diapers.”

“If I can change diapers,” Elena shot back, pointing first at Nadine, then at her other wife, “Chloe can change diapers.”

“I can, but I don’t want to,” Chloe said in her own defense.

“None of us want to, but imagine the alternative.”

“Waiting for one of you to do it?”

Elena raised her hand. “I will do some if Chloe does some.”

Nadine nodded. “I’ll do some if Chloe does some as well.”

“What is happening here?” Chloe demanded. 

“Surely,” Elena said, “between all of us, we can work out a schedule. Say… two days for me, two days for Nadine, two days for Nate, one for Chloe.”

“Only one for Chloe?” Nadine asked suspiciously.

“Think of the baby.”

“But two for Nate?” Chloe asked.

“He’s more responsible than you give him credit for,” Elena said. “You just don’t bring it out of him.”

“We bring things out of him!” Nadine protested.

“Yeah, how do you think she got pregnant?”

“I’m just saying, give him a chance, he’ll surprise you,” Elena concluded. “But Chloe, probably not.”

Chloe shrugged. “I can handle one day. I’ll be like a vodka aunt.”

“That’s a good point,” Elena piped up.

“Vodka’s always a good point.”

“We should probably think of titles. I mean, Nate’s dad, Nadine’s mom, what does that make the rest of us?”

“I could be daddy too,” Chloe said, running a hand through her hair, “if that helps.”

“I should have first dibs,” Nadine said. “And I think the traditional ‘mommy’ should be mine.”

“Really? So whiny,” Chloe said. “Why not a dignified, distinguished ‘Mom’?”

“As the only one with dignity, I suppose that one’s mine,” Elena said.

“What does that leave me with? Mother? I know I sound British, but I’m not.”

“You could be Momma.”

“Or vodka aunt,” Elena pointed out.

“Oh no, if both of you get to be moms, I want to be a mom,” Chloe insisted. “What about ‘Moms’?”

“No child of mine is calling anyone Moms,” Nadine said emphatically. “Why not simply ‘Ms. Frazer’?”

“I just said I’m not a Brit, now you’re on me being Victorian?”

 “Mrs. F,” Elena suggested, punctuating it with a glissandoing hand gesture.

“I’m not the teacher in an eighties sitcom either!”

“Does it have to start with an M?” Nadine wondered.

“That’s traditional.”

“Madre?”

“Nana?”

“Bit premature!” Chloe protested.

“Get your own baby and you can have him call you what you want,” Nadine needled.

“I’m staying home with the little dingo an entire day every week, aren’t I?”

“Guess that makes you the nanny…” Elena teased.

“We’ve been over that—aren’t nannies in America always incredibly hot and doing naughty things with the fathers?” Chloe asked.

“We’re calling her the nanny,” Elena realized.

“Also a good Fran Drescher show,” Nadine pointed out. She got wondering gazes from both of them. “What? You think I didn’t have a TV before I met you people?”

“You do seem a little like the ‘I don’t own a TV’ type,” Chloe said.

“You are drinking lentils,” Elena added.

“For the baby!”

“What’d that baby ever do to you?”