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SandcastlesChapter 59 free porn video
"It's not the same, Larry."
I looked up from the pile of papers that had accumulated on my desk. I hadn't even noticed my twin wives slip into the room. It had been a while since I had had any time to devote to my work and I had been at it since early that morning. Sally's words were a welcome break, but then again, she was always welcome.
The women still walked gingerly, as it had only been a couple of days since the bonding. However, even in that short time I had noticed several changes, both in myself and in them. The first big difference I had noticed, almost immediately, was that they had connected somehow and were now on the same wavelength. It was still unnerving when they alternated phrases when talking.
The second was that, when they were together, they almost always had contact with each other. And that they rarely went anywhere alone although I didn't notice them talking more to each other than usual. If anything, they said less than before. Even when they were sitting in bed reading the paper I would notice that their toes or fingers touched silently, almost casually. They weren't caressing touches, just contact. They were holding hands now as they stood in my office.
The third thing was that it seemed the stronger I got, the more confident I was in the dominating role they seemed to want of me, the more assertive they got. Their announcement of first wife / second wife was only the beginning. That's also the reason I found myself walking around the house in the nude. They had decided that they liked to watch me swinging free, as they said. It was also why I was in my office working this morning. They hadn't exactly told me to in so many words, but, well, you get the idea.
It wasn't that they were usurping my authority. On the contrary, by clearly defining the rules for them, so to speak, I had given them the freedom to act independently within those boundaries.
Of course, the fun began when they ran into a limit and/or deliberately wanted to cross a line. The ensuing negotiations were both painful and enjoyable to all of us. I understood them well enough by now that I knew they were going to seek out some rules to break, so I intentionally made some absurd ones they could fracture without cracking the infrastructure of our marriage. It was in their natures both to submit as well as to push the limits, and I did my best to accommodate them.
I had also noticed some changes in myself, as well. Some were subtle and some I was still coming to grips with. Now that my system had balanced, I noticed I required less sleep. Three hours of down time and I was ready to go. However, the girls weren't and they had kicked me out of the bedroom after the second night of 3 A.M. sex. Oh, it wasn't that they weren't willing and didn't readily submit to my pre-dawn desires and demands, but the gentle snoring coming from your sex partner while banging away took a lot away from the experience. So I worked in my office from 3 A.M. until breakfast. It was an arrangement that worked.
Another change was that I was surer of what I wanted but what I found interesting was that what I wanted had changed, too. I made better decisions, faster and communicated them in an authoritative manner that left little to no doubt. Not just in business but sexually, too. I was more commanding and demanding in the bedroom, leaving the women wide-eyed and breathless at times. I know that sounds like a cliché but it's true. They had always encouraged me to be more assertive and somewhat rougher with them and they got their wishes fulfilled many times over. I wasn't brutal nor was it rape. Our sexual foreplay was lasting longer and longer and leaving more and more marks on them that would take days to disappear. Even with that, they seemed eager to please, eager for more but mainly, just eager.
That did present, however, one of the changes in myself that I was still coming to grips with. I had trouble accepting a self-image of being that aggressive or that macho. I wanted to be and I had been raised to think of myself a gentle, sensitive person. I had always taken care to be aware of my partner's needs. This was a whole new wrinkle in the fabric of my character and, for now at least, it chafed a bit.
And yet I was more sensitive, too, in spite of being more macho. Linking with Sally now was like hooking into the PA system at Indianapolis Speedway, loud and clear. I was even beginning to pick up on clues within Nicole, though she seemed unaware of any link. I know she still desperately wanted to experience it but there didn't seem to be any progress on her part. It was just so much noise between us, like snow on the TV.
That was what Sally had been referring to, when she walked into my office and had said it wasn't the same.
"We haven't linked, like, well, you and I have or Janey." I noticed she didn't mention Simone. I wondered if she hadn't linked with her or if she was just being tactful.
"Simone can do it, too," added Nicole, smiling shyly at Sally. Nicole, like Sally, faced things head on. They really were a lot alike.
"What is between us is different, more elemental, kind of."
"No words or pictures, Lawrence, we just sort of know."
"Especially when it is about you."
"Or us."
"But not about Janey."
"Or Simone."
"You're on your own there."
"Sorry."
"We thought you'd like to know."
"We know it's been bothering you."
I sat, stunned. They were telepathic. They had to be. But only on a limited scope, where it concerned the three of us. I watched them pivot and walk out of the office, still touching hands. They stopped just outside the door.
"Oh, and Master?"
"Yes?"
"Breakfast is ready."
Mealtimes had changed, too. First, at least with the teenagers gone, we ate naked. The cushion by my chair was gone, too, along with the chair. Another of their unilateral decisions. My chair had been replaced by a bench, wide enough for the three of us. We sat along the long edge of the table, and two chairs were now positioned across from us, presumably for Janey and Simone when they returned.
Nicole and Sally, at the first meal, had placed just one plate on the table in front of me along with two forks, of which they promptly took possession. The pile of food on the plate had been prepared in bite-sized pieces. They then proceeded to feed themselves and me.
I wasn't sure I liked it at first, but they were insistent. They were kneeling on the bench on each side of me and I wasn't sure what to do with my hands. My first clue came when I felt a silky touch on my own cock, which immediately rose to the occasion.
The women were carrying on as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on, smiling and laughing, talking over the plans for the day in that ping-pong system of theirs. It slowly dawned on me that these two were capable of multi-tasking, of doing more than one thing at once. They could eat breakfast and stimulate me at the same time, apparently without thinking and still plan the day's events. I also noticed that they didn't consult me when making out the schedule. They also seemed to understand that it was more difficult for me and I think for guys in general, to focus on more than one thing at a time. I mean, I can walk and chew gum at the same time but food is another matter. They had both experienced my loss of focus over a good steak for everything but the meat in my mouth, naked nubile teenager at the table or not. Hey! Trains of thought were meant to be derailed, no?
I suddenly saw the reason for only two forks. Yes, even the slowest among us, if led gently enough can comprehend eventually. My hands were free and so were two very conveniently placed delectable asses! Among other things in the immediate area. There were also some extremely delicate nipples within arms' reach. And all I had to do was open my mouth and food, or a sip of coffee or an intimate kiss would follow. God, I could get used to this!
Mealtimes would become an act of foreplay for us, even with the girls present and were normally followed by one or both of my wives initiating an unusually uninhibited bout of sex play. It wasn't always intercourse; in fact, as time went on, they seemed to prefer to present me with a stack of ropes, feathers, massage oils, pussy whips or any number of other implements of pain/pleasure and then let nature, perverted as mine might have been, take its course.
Anyway, on those first mornings while the girls were still gone, we were sort of feeling our way along, in more than one sense of the word. When I first felt the light touches along my stiffening shaft, I nearly jumped off the bench. Sally and Nicole just kept eating and feeding me as if nothing had happened. The second feathery touches elicited a lesser response and by the time we were finishing our coffee, I had caught on. I had one finger buried in each of my wanton women. It had been a long slow insertion into each, not an abrupt jab, in keeping with their own slow escalation of contact with me.
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