Facets of Love Ch. 10

Facets of Love

Chapter 10

-

Mary Spencer Jones

September 2038

Robbie was right. A couple of weeks after he "screwed the living shit" out of Angela (his words, not mine), Gloria invited her submissive nurse to our house for Sunday dinner. And then for an occasional sleepover. A month later, Angela moved in with us.

For a while, Gloria insisted that there was nothing romantic going on between the two of them.

"I'm not in love. Sleeping with Nurse Angela is the only way I can keep her on staff," she often reminded me. So often, it was as if she was trying to convince herself instead of me. "Once I tire of her, I'll kick her out and find another nurse."

Her argument went out the window when she asked Robert to build them a place of their own. A comfortable three-bedroom house, right next door to us.

And, while he was at it, Robert built James a similar house, across the street from Gloria's. Which made sense. James spent more time in our house than his downtown apartment, so he might as well live close to us.

Everybody else in the family thought it was a great idea.

For reasons I will never understand, even though Angela professed to be a pure lesbian, she continued to let Robbie "fuck her lights out" a couple of times a month because doing so made Gloria happy.

Robert also got a monthly "Nurse Angela allowance", as long as Gloria participated.

Mom's and Gloria's relationship was always on shaky ground so putting a little extra distance between the two, moving Gloria into a different house, made them both happy.

And as far as the three sisters were concerned, they didn't lose an aunt/mother, they gained a bathroom.

I, on the other hand, felt like she'd deserted me. Sure, she only moved a couple hundred feet but, for nearly the last two decades, Gloria and I lived in the same house. We slept just down the hall from each other (and for two nights a week in the same bed).

After her move, I was lucky to see her two or three times a week. And the opportunities to be naked in each other's arms, just the two of us, dwindled to less than once a month. It was during one of those rare moments together that we addressed a subject that had haunted my brain for two years.

"We all knew it was coming," I told Gloria as I caressed her still taught forty-two-year-old ass.

"I know," she said, reciprocating the favor on my thirty-eight-year-old (soon to be 39) posterior. "I can read a calendar; I just wish the pages wouldn't turn so fast."

-

The calendar. That was the source of our anxiety. Every damn calendar in the house, be it the one on my phone, my tablet, my watch, my laptop, or hanging on the kitchen wall... they all said it was September 3^rd, 2038. Like most people, we weren't looking forward to being labeled "middle-aged", but that wasn't why the date bothered us. Since all three sisters were born in August 2020, the current date meant each of them was now at least a week over eighteen years old... the age of consent.

The precedent was set two years earlier when Mom snuck into Robbie's bedroom on his eighteenth birthday and turned the boy into a man. The next night, Gloria proved she was a willing partner in the crime. And I, while having never completely consummated the act, certainly led us further down the road.

We did what we did to further my son's education, to ensure he was prepared for the world we previously tried so hard to protect him from, to give him a leg up on his competition. To not give his sisters the same advantage would be a sinful, sexist neglect of our parental responsibilities.

After much discussion over the last several months, we (Robert, Mom, Gloria, and I) unanimously agreed that the sisters should go through some sort of advanced sexual education as well, but none of us knew how to broach the subject with our extremely sheltered daughters.

They obviously knew that Robert was their father, each born to a different mother. But we went to ridiculous lengths to make them believe those indiscretions were events of the past. Since they were not allowed upstairs, and we made it a point to never do anything remotely sexual downstairs, the sisters firmly believed that the only reason we all lived together was to keep the family intact. In their minds, Gloria and Martha lived the lives of nuns and, for the few months Angela lived with us, she too was directed to take an apparent vow of chastity. And, despite what we told them, the main reason we built the cabana by the pool was to prevent them from knowing what their mothers were doing with their brother.

We got lucky with Robbie. His grandmother slipped into bed with him on his eighteenth birthday and he took to sex like a teenager to video games.

But girls are different. Especially naïve, inexperience girls like the sisters. We had to find a way to convince our innocent daughters that what they'd been told to avoid for all of their lives was now permissible.

Gloria and I spent the rest of that night unsuccessfully brainstorming ways to accomplish this delicate task. Which was a complete waste of time because, at dinner the next night, the three sisters proved us wrong.

-

"We know," Julie, Gloria's daughter told the assembled family.

"You know what?" Gloria asked.

"About the sleeping schedule," June, Mom's second daughter, my much younger sister, said.

"Are you asking for a later bedtime," Robert asked. "Do you think you need less sleep just because you're eighteen?"

"Actually, we'd all like to go to bed an hour or two earlier," April, my daughter, said. "And since we are of age, we'd like to choose who we go to bed with."

"I don't understand."

"Mom does." April looked directly at me. "Aren't you the one who decides who sleeps with whom? The best we can tell, you've been doing it all our lives. You and Daddy sleep with each other at least three times a week. He also gets one night alone with Grandma and Aunt Gloria. We suspect the other two nights are threesomes but, since we're not allowed upstairs, we have no way of knowing for sure."

"We also know that the schedule changed when Robbie turned eighteen, when he started getting sex lessons," June said.

"And it changed again when Angela moved in with us," Julie added.

Stunned. Flabbergasted. Flummoxed. Pick an adjective. They all fit. Every parent in the room sat silent and motionless as they processed what our daughters said.

"How?" I finally asked. "How do you know this? Have you been spying on us?"

"I wouldn't call it spying," Julie said. "None of us have seen you in flagrante delicto­ -"

"That means we've never seen them actually having sex," April whispered to her brother.

"- but the evidence is clear," Julie continued.

"What evidence," Martha asked.

"Oh, come on Grandma. You, of all people, should have recognized it," April said. "Mom gets a certain sparkle in her eyes at dinner when it's her turn to sleep with Daddy.

"The only time you laugh at Daddy's jokes are the evenings before you two have sex.

"And Aunt Gloria's tell is the easiest of them all. If she comes to dinner without a bra, we all know what she'll be doing that night and who she'll be doing it with."

"That's all you've got?" Robert asked. "An eye sparkle, a chuckle, and a wardrobe choice doesn't prove anything."

"There's actually a lot more," Julie said to her father. "Each mom also has her own specific morning afterglow. Aunt Mary has a habit of softly singing in the kitchen after spending a night with you. Mom skips her morning run after sleeping in your arms, and whatever you do to Grandma prevents her from sitting in a chair for several hours afterwards."

"But, despite all the evidence presented so far, the most damning is the fact that none of you are denying it," June said.

Which was true. While our lies of omission for the last eighteen years could be justified. Out and out denying the truth at that point would have been unacceptable. So, ceding their well-made point, I asked the next obvious question.

"How do you know about what we're doing with Robbie?" I asked.

"You mean about the three of you training him to seduce women?"

"I'd like to think we're teaching him how to be a loving partner, but whatever you want to call it, how did you find out?"

"Our first clue was the shit-eating-grin that's been on his face since the day after he turned eighteen," Julie said. "An undeniable indication that he was getting laid every night."

"And then a year ago, when you told him to start being nice to us," April said, "we finally figured out your plans for us."

"Do you think we have some secret design for the three of you?"

"It's no secret," June said. "And we're all for it. The only question is, when do we start?"

"Start what?" I asked.

"Our lessons," Julie said. "When do we get folded into the rotation? When do we start having sex with Robbie and Daddy?"

"That was your plan, wasn't it?" April asked. "Isn't that why you all have been riding Robbie so hard these last couple of years? Training him up, working on his technique and stamina?"

"We realize that Daddy is the best sex instructor a girl could ever want," June said, "but he also has to see to the needs of our moms."

"So, we've come up with a draft schedule," April said. "It's certainly not chiseled in stone, but we suggest that each of us gets to sleep with Robbie two nights a week..."

"... and one night a week with Daddy," June continued.

"That way, we'll each get three lessons a week and still let Daddy spend some quality time with the three of you," Julie concluded.

-

Robbie Jones

I'd never taken a girl's virginity before.

Okay, technically, I was the first man to have sex with Nurse Angela, but at age thirty-three, she was more of a woman than a girl. Also, even though my penis was the first male member to make a deposit in her sacred vault, I doubt she, or anybody else, considered her a virgin. Gloria had preceded me with her fingers, tongue, and a large collection of sex toys. And there was an excellent chance that at least one, and maybe a dozen, like minded women had been there before my honorary aunt.

Regardless of Angela's previous maidenhood status, on Sunday night, I would truly deflower one of my sisters.

Mom realized the significance of a young girl's first sexual experience and refused to let me sleep with any of the girls until she and I had a talk, in bed, with our clothes off (except, as usual, she kept her panties and a skimpy nighty on). My normal Saturday night cuddle with Mom turned into an undressed rehearsal of what I would do the following night. Kind of like a final exam covering everything my three sex tutors had taught me over the last two years.

Sunday morning, after Mom swallowed enough of my sperm to repopulate an island full of stranded Amazonian maidens, she slipped back into her night gown and was about to head back into the house when I asked,

"Does Dad have any rubbers? The last thing I want to do is get one of my sisters pregnant."

The look of affection on Mom's face as she turned back towards me was more satisfying than what she had been doing just a few minutes prior. And then she started laughing.

"Robbie, my love. You have got to be the best son a mother could ever have."

"Then why are you laughing at me?"

"I'm laughing because your father asked the same question the night you were conceived. He asked if he should get a rubber. I told him no because I thought taking a single birth control pill, an hour before I lost my virginity, would keep me from getting pregnant. I was wrong and you are the result.

"I'm proud of you for asking the question. Many men wouldn't. And don't worry about getting your sisters pregnant. Thanks to Gloria, they've been on birth control for the last three months."

She came back to the bed, straddled my hips, and gave me a completely unmotherly kiss on the lips.

"About tonight," she said. "I still remember my first time with your dad like it was yesterday. Please do the same for April. Make it all about her. Comfort her, pleasure her, but most of all, love her. You don't have to go all the way. In fact, it might be better if you didn't. Whatever you do, make sure she wants to come back for more."

I didn't know if Mom purposely told me that April would be the first sister I slept with or if it just slipped out. Not that it mattered. I would eventually be bedding all three.

Taking Mom's instructions to heart, I spent a good bit of Sunday straightening up the cabana, changing the bed sheets, and moving an old four-wheeler (which I was restoring) out of my living room and into the garage. At Dad's suggestion, I took a quick trip into town for roses and candles.

Sunday dinner was more subdued than normal. Uncle James, Dad, and I talked trash about the upcoming football season and the three moms did that women thing where they jabber nonstop about nothing. But the sisters were essentially silent.

Nobody brought up the subject that was on everybody's mind. As soon as the sun went down, our family dynamic would be forever changed. I would take my sister by the hand and lead her to my bed. Dad would do the same with June and, at Aunt Gloria's request, Mom would spend the night with Julie. I wasn't sure if the latter coupling was intended to keep Julie from feeling left out or if there was something else in play.

At 7:15 dinner was done, dessert eaten, kitchen cleaned, and it was still another half hour until sunset. Somebody suggested we all play a game, but nobody was in the mood. It was like we were all on death row, waiting for the warden to come for us.

April, bless her beautiful heart, brought us all back to reality when she said,

"Daddy, can Robbie and I borrow your truck?"

"Why?"

"So, we can go get ice cream."

"Didn't you just have peach cobbler?"

"Yes, but this is a special night for me, and I want to celebrate it with an ice cream cone."

"You don't need a truck to get ice cream. What's wrong with taking one of the EV's?" Dad asked.

"They have individual seats up front; we want a bench seat."

"The only truck we have with a bench seat is my old Ford."

"Exactly," April said. "It still runs, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, it runs, barely. But I still don't know why you want to take it."

"Because it's a family tradition," Mom said with a knowing grin.

"Huh?"

"Do you remember our first date?" she said to Dad.

"Of course. We went to a Vince Gill concert in Montgomery."

"What happened on the drive back to Auburn?"

"You cuddled up against me while we watched a full moon rise."

"And what happened next?"

"I tried to drop you at your dorm, but you insisted we go to my trailer instead."

"And then?" Mom asked.

"Well..." Dad stuttered.

"We made love to each other... for the first time. You took my virginity and gave me Robbie. I've been telling April that story since the day she was born. Not the sex part, but about how gallant you were and how much I loved you for it... and still do."

-

Ten minutes later, April and I were in Dad's antique pickup, heading towards the local ice cream shop. I got chocolate, she got strawberry.

There aren't any mountains and very few hills in Florida. We parked on a slightly elevated bit of land facing west and ate while watching the sunset.

"You want a taste?" I asked, offering her some of my ice cream.

"Of course," she said, taking my cone in her hand, placing the top between her lips, and gently sucking down a morsel.

"How about you?" she asked. "Do you want a lick of mine?"

"I thought you'd never ask," I said and slurped up some of her strawberry goodness with my tongue.

Be it good fortune or an act of God, the sunset that night did not disappoint. Our vantage point didn't give us a direct view of the burning orb slipping into the Gulf of Mexico but, clear skies over Louisiana turned a thin layer of cloud over Tampa into ever changing streaks of color that would turn even a basement video game addict into a momentary poet.

When the light show was over and the ice cream consumed, I turned the truck around, facing east, and waited for mother nature's second act.

"Do you think we are sinners?" April asked, breaking what had been a comfortable, reverent silence.

"For having ice cream less than an hour after a slice of peach cobbler?"

"No, you butt head. For what we're going to do tonight."

"I imagine we are," I said after a moment of contemplation. "At least in some people's eyes. If the church knew about our plans, your days of singing in the choir would certainly be over. And, although I'm not a lawyer, I'm fairly sure incest is still illegal."

"Yeah, I know all that. Lots of people will criticize and demonize what we have planned, but do you think it's wrong?"

"If I did, I would also have to think that Mom and Dad are sinners... evil people who only do what's good for themselves. We both know that's not true. You and I are the two luckiest people on the planet. We not only have parents who love us, we also have an extended family that adores us just as much as our parents. I know we'll have to hide what we're doing. Just like Mom, Dad, Grandma, and Aunt Gloria have for the last twenty years. But, despite our idiosyncrasies, we are, hands down, the most loving family in the country."

April leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, the first time we'd touched each other all day.

"A simple 'no, it's not wrong' would have sufficed," she said. "But I love everything else you said."

Her next kiss was on my lips. It wasn't overly ardent, but certainly not a "sister kiss".

Subsequent smooches quickly climbed up the passion scale as our tongues clashed and our fingers roamed.

We weren't in a position to see the full moon ascend from the distant waters of the Atlantic and, even if we were parked on Daytona Beach, there was a good chance we wouldn't have noticed the orange ball climb out of the waves.

"I... I think we better get home," April said a half hour after the moon rose.

"Why? Aren't you enjoying yourself?"

"Too much so. But I don't want to lose my virginity in the front seat of Daddy's truck. And if we don't stop now, that's what's going to happen."

As tempted as I was to race home at Mach two, I took Mom's words to heart and drove ten miles under the limit with April nestled beside me. We parked the Ford directly in front of the house but, instead of going through the front door, walked around to a side gate and made a bee line for my cabana. That way Dad would know we were home, but we didn't have to talk to anybody or, worse yet, get the "I know what you two are about to do" stares from those inside the house.

Undressing April was way better than opening my all-time favorite Christmas present. The twelve-gauge, double barreled shot gun I got when I was fourteen was fun and exciting, but it only had one trigger and I wasn't allowed to play with it indoors. April was different. With hours of practice, I found more than a dozen ways to make her go 'BANG' and, over the next couple of years, we enjoyed ourselves in nearly every room in the house plus several outdoor venues.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The first time I saw April naked, when I felt the tenderness of her perfectly formed breasts, when I smelled the perfumed scent of her awakening nether regions, tasted the sweet nectar of her virginal folds, heard her pleading moans of arousal... when I gingerly, ever so slowly, slipped my manhood into her welcoming embrace... I realized just how blessed both Dad and I were. Because April was my mom. Not the person who birthed me, but certainly Mom's clone. And, since Dad spent most of his nights with Mom, he, like I, was one lucky son-of-a-bitch.