Possessive Passions 2
Possess Me Shiloah, a New Thimphu native, is envious of her friend Chevaunne's newfound happiness with her men and wants that kind of love for herself. She has enjoyed working with the luscious Stan and Goa on The Grandparents' Garden. But now the project is finished, so how will she see them again? Stan and Goa abduct Shiloah from the garden's grand opening ceremony and make love to her all night long. The next day, she marries them both in a traditional ceremony. But when Shiloah and her men are offered the chance to run a farm aboveground, she has to consider her mother, Orna, who helps Shiloah run her business and is terrified of life outside the security of their community. Shiloah is torn between loyalties. Can she find a way to keep everything that is dear to her—her mother, her business, and explosive sex with two men she loves? Genre: Contemporary, Ménage a Trois/Quatre Length: 20,134 words
POSSESS ME Possessive Passions 2
Berengaria Brown
MENAGE AMOUR
Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com
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[email protected] A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK IMPRINT: Ménage Amour
POSSESS ME Copyright © 2011 by Berengaria Brown E-book ISBN: 1-61034-594-0 First E-book Publication: July 2011 Cover design by Jinger Heaston All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers Dear Readers, If you have purchased this copy of Possess Me by Berengaria Brown from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.
Regarding E-book Piracy This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book. The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment. This is Berengaria Brown’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Brown’s right to earn a living from her work. Amanda Hilton, Publisher www.SirenPublishing.com www.BookStrand.com
DEDICATION To all the Ornas who have had their loved ones taken from them. May you find peace and happiness again.
POSSESS ME Possessive Passions 2 BERENGARIA BROWN Copyright © 2011
Chapter One Shiloah tried to concentrate on the speeches, but her gaze kept wandering to the totally delicious brothers standing on the opposite side of The Grandparents’ Garden from her. She had a really good view of them because she was standing behind her mother’s chair in the second row, not half-hidden in the crowd as she’d expected. Yum! Stan and Goa looked so good. Both tall and tanned, their arms corded with muscle from years of working outdoors on their family farm. Yet she knew they could be incredibly gentle as they tenderly planted new seedlings, their big fingers carefully placing the roots in fresh, nutrient-rich soil. She’d like to feel those fingers on her skin. On her breasts, cupping the mounds, or teasing the nipples. On her pussy, sliding inside to—she dragged her mind back to the ceremony. Today was the official opening of The Grandparents’ Garden, the residential facility for the frail elderly, attached to the hospital. Here families could have their honored seniors cared for properly, yet still spend hours each day with them, doing all the things the seniors loved to do, but in a safe environment where the families didn’t have to worry about their grandparents wandering away, or forgetting to eat, or leaving the gas turned on in the kitchen.
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Shiloah and her mother, Orna, had provided rose bushes for the enclosed courtyard garden. They’d chosen the ones with the prettiest flowers and strongest scents, for the enjoyment of the elderly, whose senses may no longer be as acute as they used be, but who still appreciated beauty in their lives. Stan and Goa, recently arrived at New Thimphu after having to leave their homes because their local community derided the men’s cultural traditions, had used their farming skills to plant vegetables, trees, and shrubs in the garden. It was designed to make a restful and serene landscape, but with color and pattern to please the eye, and nose, and spirit. All the families of the seniors were here today, too—little children in their nicest clothes and on their best behavior, teenage boys slouching against the walls, young women giggling in groups, adults standing behind the chairs of their grandparents, happy and relaxed, enjoying the holiday. Shiloah’s friend Anh, with her two fathers, was in the front row beside Honored Grandmother, the oldest person in their community. Shiloah noticed Anh’s gaze move to Dr. Russell, the head of the hospital, standing with his two brothers and two sisters behind Father Yeshe, the monk. How would it be, married to three men? wondered Shiloah, looking first at Dr. Russell then at her friend Chevaunne, who was married to Jim, Sam, and Paul. Chevaunne is certainly very happy, and Anh is clearly interested in Dr. Russell, Tim, and Barry. I guess the sex would be pretty hot. She snorted. No, I’d rather be with Stan and Goa. They are such gentle, caring men. I don’t think I’d want to be married to anyone who didn’t understand plants and gardens. How important it is to give them just the right amount of water, food, and light. Balancing their needs, understanding them. It’s so rewarding when they bloom so magnificently. Shiloah let her gaze wander around the garden. It was so cleverly designed with banks of tall trees, wandering pathways, layers of flowers in front with taller shrubs behind them. The perfect place to
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sit in peace and bathe one’s soul in beauty. Or to stroll the winding pathways, with fresh visual delights around each corner. Even the paths themselves were things of beauty with mosaic-tiled pictures inset in them, different types of stone used in each section, yet all so smooth to walk along, that an elderly person could navigate them safely without fear of falling. Shiloah looked again at Goa and Stan. I’m going to miss them terribly not seeing them every day now that the Garden is completed, she thought sadly. They’d had such fun planning the layout of the flower beds. The men had been genuinely interested in her and her mother’s work growing roses and using the petals and hips to make ointments and soaps to sell over the Internet to support themselves. I’m just going to have to think of another project where they can help. Maybe if we extended the hydroponic gardens, added some new beds… The band, breaking into a lively tune, startled Shiloah out of her reverie. The Garden was officially opened, and now it was time for afternoon tea. Teams of young people brought out trays of sandwiches and paper cups of soda, and the crowd broke up as people wandered around the Garden or visited their relative’s room. About an hour later, Shiloah finished talking to her friends and looked around for her mother. It was time to go back home and parcel up the next day’s orders to ship out. There was no sign of Orna in the diminishing crowd, so Shiloah wondered if her mother had already left. Although it wasn’t like her not to say good-bye first. “Hey, Shiloah!” She turned, recognizing Goa’s voice, then almost swallowed her tongue. Up this close, he and Songstan looked so very, very good. Her pussy creamed, her nipples hardened, and her heart beat double-time. They wore identical crisp, white short-sleeved shirts, which showed off their tanned, muscled arms to perfection. The shirts were tucked into tight jeans that highlighted the defined muscles of their thighs.
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And their cocks. Ohmigod. Their cocks were long and thick and clearly visible under the tight, black denim. Shiloah blushed and raised her eyes to their faces only to see Goa’s gaze fixed on her nipples, which were pushing at the cotton fabric of her yellow shirt in an obvious way. Stan was licking his lips, his tongue flicking out in a sexy gesture that made her long to have that tongue in her own mouth or on her own lips. “Hi, Stan. Hi, Goa,” she managed, taking a deep breath and trying to drag her mind out of their pants. “We hoped you’d join us for a coffee,” said Goa, smiling deep into her eyes. She could drown in those chocolate pools. His eyes were so deep, so liquid, so panty-drenching hot. “Sure,” she replied. She could mail out the parcels later that night. Spending time with these men seemed a much better choice of activity right now. After they left the secure area, the men moved up, one on each side of her, and headed to the main intersection of pathways in the New Thimphu community. The city had been built primarily underground, beneath a long hill with offices, community buildings, administration buildings, and apartment blocks following the ridge of hills. At the intersection, instead of walking to the row of shops and cafés, the men took her arms and turned toward the apartment blocks. “What—” she began. The men pressed their bodies against her sides and wrapped their arms around her, banding her to them with the double grip. “We’re going to our apartment, here in purple block. We’re abducting you as is traditional among our people,” said Goa. “We’re sorry we couldn’t throw you over a horse and ride off with you like your fathers did with your mother, but we decided the difficulties involved in taking you up to the outside world, arranging for a horse, then still having to bring you down here again outweighed the romantic aspect. But we’ve made our apartment romantic for you.”
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“Well, you have to remember we’re men. As romantic as we could. We did ask some of the married men for ideas, though,” added Goa. Shiloah laughed. “And here I was wondering how I could arrange to see you again now that the Garden is finished.” The men pulled her even tighter against their bodies. She was hardly walking at all now, more or less being carried along by their legs and the pressure of their skin against hers. At the entry to purple apartment block, they stopped while Stan opened the door, and Goa flung her over his shoulder. Stan went ahead, pressing the call button for the elevator, opening the doors when it came, then selecting their floor. Purple was one of the newer apartment blocks with four apartments per level. Stan and Goa’s home was on level three. The building was only four stories high as it was toward the end of the hill, which sloped down. A new building, brown apartment block, was being built just past it, and for that, the community had extended the hill. They constructed a wood-and-fabric overlay to enlarge the hill on the outside, then used the soil dug out for foundations and the building itself to make real turf and turn the hill extension into a true hill. The new turf seeded and grew over the underlay, becoming completely weatherproof and blending into the old hill seamlessly. Stan opened their apartment door, flicked on the lights, then together, the two men carried her over the threshold and into the bedroom. The room was decorated with green branches and flowers, the flowers woven intricately in among the greenery with the colors making patterns. Flower petals were strewn on the bed—pale pink roses, white jasmine, and gray-green, sharp-smelling eucalyptus leaves, contrasting with a deep burgundy-red blanket. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered softly.
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Quickly the men undressed her, each removing a garment in turn. Then they laid her on the bed and tied her to the headboard with long, green silk scarves, which had been laying ready on the nightstand. Then, to her astonishment, the men began a sing-song chant in deep, rich, baritone voices. The chant was the story of two brothers who had fallen in love with a woman and followed her from one side of the land to the other, promising her their never-ending love and attention. As they sang, Goa and Stan moved to sit on either side of her then trailed their hands over her feet, her ankles, her calves, gradually moving up her body as the heroes in the song crossed the land in pursuit of their bride. The story was so beautiful Shiloah couldn’t help but be drawn into the passion of the two heroes desperately following the woman they loved, hoping against hope she would accept their devotion and marry them. But at the same time, her body was incredibly aroused by the men’s busy fingers, teasing and touching, tracing patterns on her skin, gradually, slowly—so very slowly—making their way up her legs toward her core. She opened her legs wide, letting the knees fall onto the burgundy blanket, desperate for their fingers to reach the place she needed them most. When the lady in the song finally accepted the two traveling heroes and the story heroes held their lady in their arms, a tear trickled from Shiloah’s eye in relief. Now all she needed was her own two heroes to make her come, to claim her as theirs. But their hands stopped on her upper thighs, resting on the sensitive, tender skin between her inner thighs and her groin. Urgently she thrust her hips up, indicating her need to Stan and Goa. She could feel the dampness on the inside of her thighs, feel how wet her pussy had become, and knew they had to have noticed the cream glistening on her nether lips. “According to our traditions, we have abducted you to be our bride, Shiloah,” began Goa.
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Stan continued. “To make you ours forever, we will fuck you in the cunt, the ass, and the mouth. Only when we have completed these three can we take you to the monk and be married.” “The fucking we will do tonight. The wedding will be tomorrow. We’ve already asked Father Yeshe’s permission for the marriage to be scheduled for tomorrow morning.” “Only one thing remains before we begin.” Together they said, “Give us permission to enter your body, Shiloah. Say we can come in. Say yes.” “Yes. Fuck me. Take me. It’s what I want more than anything.” The words were hardly out of her mouth before Goa was untying her wrists and Stan was pulling a tiny bottle of oil from the nightstand drawer. She sat up on her elbows and watched them undress. Neither of them wore an undershirt under their sparkling white shirts. Under their black denim jeans, Goa had a tiny pair of tighty-whities, and Stan wore an even tinier black G-string. Damn, they were both hot! She licked her lips, hoping she wasn’t drooling. Their cocks were long, hard, and bounced straight up once freed from their jeans. Goa’s had a very broad, flat head. Stan’s had just the slightest curve to one side. Both were deep red with need. She opened her arms and urged them both to her. “Please, I need you both now. Please fuck me. I don’t want to wait another second.” “We’ll go as slowly as we can. Make it as good for you as we can,” promised Goa, gently touching a breast. He cupped the mound in his palm, a palm that was slightly roughened from hard physical labor. He traced his thumb over her areola then tweaked her nipple with the pad of his thumb. Oh that felt wonderful, so much better than when she touched herself. Stan licked along the inside of her thigh. Oh my, that felt wondrous. Who knew the skin there was an erogenous zone? He licked again, a wandering line across the inside of her thigh, then up and down. Next, he blew warm puffs of air on the wetness. “Oh,” she
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murmured as more honey dripped from her core. “That feels so good.” The men took their time, endlessly patient as they licked and nipped, touched and sucked their way over every inch of her body. Every nerve ending was on fire, and a ball of need coiled tightly in her belly, demanding release. The more she tried to touch them, to pull them closer to her, to bring this erotic torture to a climax, the more they slid from her grasp, whispering that she must wait, that she should be fully aroused. Finally, they moved over her together, one mouth on each of her breasts. At last she could hold their heads, faces pressed to her skin, and run her fingers through their thick, dark hair. Stan’s was a little longer than Goa’s and finer, softer. Goa’s hair, as well as having thicker strands, was more blue-black where Songstan’s was brownblack. Their lips felt different on her, too. Stan’s were softer, lighter, warmer. Goa’s action was more nibbling and dominant, demanding her body respond to him, while Stan was teasing her body into compliance. She realized this meshed with their characters, Goa the older brother, a more take-charge personality, Stan a lighter, more cooperative, more accessible person. But right now her body was far too aroused for her to think about anything other than an orgasm. With a hand on each head, she tugged at their hair. “Please, I need to come so bad.” At her words, she felt two cocks press damply against her legs. Ha! They need to come as much as I do. Stan sat up beside her shoulders, lifted her head onto his thigh, and held his cock near her mouth. Mmm, this close up, it looked more than yummy. Stan’s cock was long and thick, standing straight out from his groin and its nest of black curls, the stalk red and the head a deep reddish-purple with need. His balls looked hard and tight, drawn up close to his body. Oh yes, Stan was in agony with desire, she could tell.
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Delicately, she flicked her tongue out and swiped it over the head. Stan groaned. Shiloah smiled to herself and licked him again and again. His taste was delicious—spicy and salty with just the slightest hint of tartness. She wrapped her tongue right over the head then sucked him deep into her mouth. He was broad and filled her, but she sucked again and enjoyed the fullness and his rich, spicy scent. Shiloah lifted a hand up to control Stan’s cock herself, feeding him into her mouth a bit at a time, enjoying every inch of him, sliding her tongue up and down his erection, tasting every bit of him, pressing her tongue into his long vein and feeling his pulse throb with a need she shared. Then she slipped the tip of her tongue under the ridge where the cap joined the head. The skin felt a little different there, the texture slightly softer, spongier. Shiloah let him slide out a fraction before sucking him deep again, and Stan gave a long moan. “Shiloah, you feel so good. You’re killing me here.” She sucked gently on Stan as she concentrated on enjoying the weight of Goa sliding between her legs. His hard-muscled legs nudged hers even farther apart. His broad shoulders were just in her line of sight, the corded muscles of his arms braced beside her body. The wide, flat head of Goa’s cock pressed between her pussy lips, then slid inside. Automatically, her tissues spread, opening a pathway for him. Oh my, he felt good, filling her, stretching her to the limit. Goa pushed in farther and farther until his balls were snugged up firmly against her skin. Then he picked up her ass, tilted her hips upward, placed her legs on his shoulders, and pressed in another fraction of an inch. He filled her totally, her walls clasped tightly around him. He felt so good. And Stan’s cock in her mouth felt good, too. The slight curve made him a delight to suck as her tongue wrapped around his head or slid up and down his shaft. Goa pulled out of her pussy slowly, gradually, until just his cap was still inside, then pushed back in, a little faster, a little harder.
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Then he withdrew once more, moving with more speed now, and thrusting harder and deeper. With her mouth on Stan’s cock, Shiloah mimicked Goa’s actions. She did her best to match his speed and direction, sucking Stan in as far as she could, running her teeth gently along his rod as she released him, only to suck him right inside again. Goa gripped her hips in his big, strong hands, thrusting harder and faster now, pounding into her, rocking her body on the big bed. Shiloah kept one hand on Stan’s cock to control his depth into her mouth. With the other, she cupped his balls, rolling them in their sac, noticing how hard and tight they were. Her orgasm was close now, the ball of desire in her core coiled up hard and tight like Stan’s balls. She tilted her head right back, opening her throat to slide Stan’s cockhead as far down as it would go. As flames of need roared inside her belly she swallowed Stan, then released him an inch or two, hollowed her cheeks, and sucked hard. Stan groaned and a burst of hot cum hit the back of her throat. Quickly, she let him out a little more so she could swallow properly, then lost the ability to think at all as Goa slammed into her, and an explosive orgasm powered through her, spreading from her cunt up through her body and almost blowing the top off her head. Her legs shook, her toes curled back to the soles of her feet, and her entire body was racked with wave after wave of release, tingling through every nerve ending. For long moments, her body spasmed in release, and it took her a little while to realize that Goa had come, too, his cock pumping seed into her channel. First Stan, then Goa leaned over to kiss her mouth tenderly, then Stan held her while Goa went to clean up, and when Goa returned, Stan went to the bathroom and came back with a warm wet cloth to wipe her pussy and inner thighs clean. They cuddled on the bed for a little while then Stan rummaged in the nightstand drawer and brought out a tub of Shiloah’s own rose
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ointment. “Let us massage you. We don’t want your muscles to be tense,” Stan said. They began at her feet as before, each man taking a foot and smoothing the cream into her toes, heels, arches, and soles. Gradually, they worked their way up her body, massaging all her muscles, paying attention to her calves, her knees, behind her knees, and up to her thighs. By the time they reached her upper thighs, Shiloah was aroused once more. But instead of continuing up her body, each man took an arm and began massaging her fingers, wrists, forearms, starting the sexual tension all over again. “You two are torturing me. I want you both again already,” Shiloah wailed. “That was our evil plan all along.” Stan laughed as he and Goa rolled her over. Goa began massaging her shoulders, and Stan spread her butt cheeks and began rubbing the ointment in the crack. Little chills ran through Shiloah. They’d said they intended to possess her totally, in her mouth, her pussy, and her ass, and the mouth and pussy had already happened. So this time would be her ass. The dark naughtiness of it excited her far more than she could have believed. In their tradition, with all the brothers in a family always sharing one woman, ass-fucking was as normal as cuntfucking. Although some brothers took turns with their wife—she’d even heard of a family where each man had his scheduled day with their wife—most families liked to all have sex together, which meant multiple penetration and extra-strong orgasms for the lucky woman. Shiloah loved their culture and traditions. She’d never understood why people where they had lived back then had tormented her fathers and sent them to prison for crimes they’d never committed, just because they shared her mother. A woman with several husbands was treasured and protected. There were always enough wage earners to provide for the family. Children were cherished and cared for by
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several parents, giving them far more attention and help than could be found in the world outside their community. But now was not the time for thinking. Already Stan’s fingers were probing her ass, and she could feel drops of oil being massaged into the tight ring of muscles there. Goa had finished massaging her shoulders and was stroking her lower back and her ass cheeks, holding her mounds up so Stan’s finger could enter and probe her dark channel. Stan’s slippery finger was teasing along the walls of her passage now, softening and stretching the tissues there. His thumb was still massaging the sphincter muscles, loosening the opening so more fingers could penetrate her. Shiloah shivered with erotic chills of anticipation. The men’s hands, rough from their physical daily work, were so gentle with her tender skin, their every touch bordering on worship of her. What woman wouldn’t melt at such loving devotion? And these two men were devoted to her. Had chosen her. Had truly abducted her even if they hadn’t tied her up and stolen her away in the middle of the night. It was a heady thought, more intoxicating than the most expensive wine, and she desperately wanted to please them in return. Stan had two well-oiled fingers deep in her ass now, scissoring the passage open, preparing the way for his cock. Goa lay beside her on the bed, turned her face toward him, and kissed her softly, sweetly, gently, yet still passionately. His lips teased hers, running along the seam, before his tongue flicked out to press between them and into her mouth. Willingly, Shiloah opened for him, sucking on his tongue in return, enjoying the sensations as he thrust deep into her mouth, then sent his tongue exploring the insides of her cheeks and behind her teeth. She responded in kind, sliding her tongue into his mouth, learning its shape and pattern, tasting the roof of his mouth. Shiloah was intensely aroused. Stan’s wicked fingers were tantalizing her ass while Goa’s equally wicked tongue tormented her
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mouth. When Goa slid his hand under her body and began pinching her nipple, she pulled her mouth from his. “Fuck me now. I need you both so much. I want to come so bad!” “On your hands and knees then,” ordered Goa, helping pull her into position. Shiloah braced herself, and Goa continued playing with her breast as Stan pressed his cock at her ass. “Breathe out, push out now,” said Goa, and Shiloah tried to obey his instructions. Stan’s cock popped through her ring of tight muscles, then pressed inside. He filled her completely, and utterly, just as Goa had filled her pussy. Stan held her hips firmly and kept pressing until his balls were hard against her upper thighs. “Rest on your forearms so you can suck my cock,” was Goa’s next instruction. She lowered her body onto her forearms, and there was his cock, level with her mouth. She couldn’t touch him in this position, but he held his shaft up and pressed the head to her lips. Shiloah opened and sucked him in. Oh yum, he tasted good. Quite different from Stan. Where Stan’s flavor was spicy and salty with just the slightest hint of tartness, Goa was hardly salty at all and a lot tarter with just a hint of spice. Delicious. The broad, flat head of his cock felt very different in her mouth, too, stretching it wide to take him in, giving her lots to play with as she ran her tongue up and under the ridge where the head sat on his shaft. He moaned as she thrust the tip of her tongue into the eye of his slit, so she did it again, drawing a tiny bead of his essence out to enjoy his flavor some more. Stan was sliding in and out of her ass, very slowly, but strongly, his strokes even and paced and totally different from the way Goa had fucked her. These men were brothers and quite similar in looks, but each was so different when she studied them closely. Their personalities, she’d already known, were different, but now she was
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learning their intimate details, and she loved the way these men were opening up to her. Stan’s pace in her ass was still very even and measured, but, in tiny increments, it was becoming faster and harder. Stan powered into her ass for several strokes, then twisted his hips a little so his cock dragged along her channel, lighting up all the sensitive nerve endings there. The slight curve in his cock made this truly erotic. Her pussy was dripping cream, she was so incredibly aroused, and her brain was frying as she tried to assimilate each exciting sensation as well as to suck Goa’s cock. She really wished she could hold him in her hand the way she had with Stan. Then she realized she could suck his balls from where he held his cock to her lips. Shiloah let him slide all the way out, then licked down Goa’s shaft to his balls, and ran her tongue over them, first one then the other. Goa moaned and moved fractionally closer to her. She sucked one ball into her mouth, rolling it around and rubbing her tongue over the surface. Then she let it out and gave the other one the same attention. Hmmm yummy. But there was no time to savor the taste of him, no time to plan other things to do to arouse him further. Stan was pistoning into her ass in a steady, relentless rhythm that was driving her inexorably over the edge into release. Stan reached around her hip and pinched her clit as Goa leaned up and pinched her nipple. Shiloah opened her mouth and screamed as an intense orgasm raced through her body from her ass, her breasts, her clit, her mouth. She shook from head to toe, every part of her rattling until she thought she’d break. Her cunt and ass clenched hard, and she felt Stan spurt his hot release into her ass. Quickly, she sucked Goa as hard and deep as she could, and almost immediately, his cock was pumping a flood of cum into her mouth, and she had to swallow fast. When he finished spurting, she sucked him one last time then let him slide out.
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Shiloah sagged onto the bed, too limp to kneel any longer. The men bustled around cleaning both themselves and her. Then she was wrapped tightly by two pairs of arms, pressed between two hot, hard bodies. A gentle hand brushed her hair off her face as two voices whispered, “Rest now, precious. You’ll need your strength for everything we have planned for tomorrow.”
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Chapter Two “Your body is tense, precious one. What’s wrong? Are your thoughts sad? Have we not pleased you?” asked Stan. “Oh yes. You’ve both pleased me extremely well. I’ve never had such wonderful orgasms before. It’s just—” “Just what? Spit it out, Shiloah. We can’t fix the problem until you tell us what it is,” said Goa. Shiloah loved the feeling of being surrounded by masculine muscles. The men’s bodies were so very different from being hugged by a female friend. Instead of cushiony softness it was all unyielding firmness. She had a real sense of being protected and treasured. It made her feel warm inside. It also made her pussy weep with desire for more orgasms. Oh my, they’d given her some outstanding ones already tonight. And I want more! But what would happen next? Sure, they’d said Father Yeshe would conduct their wedding ceremony tomorrow, and that would be wonderful, but where would they live? The apartments here in purple block were comparatively new and quite attractive, but they weren’t very large and there was no space for her to set up an office where she could do all the paperwork that she needed for the rose products business, Fragrant Roses, she and her mama ran. The little business she and her mother had begun years ago to earn a few extra credits for treats had grown and grown. Now they had a large space in the community’s hydroponic garden where they grew their roses, and as well as providing soaps, ointments, and fragrances for the people of New Thimphu, they had a bustling Internet business
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where they sold their handmade products at a price they kept high because they could only produce so much in a year. Recently, her mama had hinted that if she married, one or more of her husbands may choose to work in the business, and they could expand their production. Both Stan and Goa were farmers and very knowledgeable about plants, so this was a distinct possibility. But where would she do the paperwork? Back at her mother’s apartment? That would make sense. Because it was just the two of them, she and her mother had always shared everything, and that included the chores. On the other hand, traditionally, a woman moved into her husbands’ home, and if there was a mother-in-law needing care, she moved in, too. It would be a challenge creating a work space in this apartment. Providing a room and living space for Orna as well was impossible. Oh hell! Why didn’t I think all this through before I jumped into bed with them? Because they abducted you, silly. Our men always abduct their brides. She realized she needed to answer the men’s questions, but she didn’t want to hurt their feelings after they’d cared for her so romantically. “Will we be living here, in your apartment?” asked Shiloah, trying to phrase her question so she didn’t sound rude. They had gone to such a lot of trouble to decorate the bedroom and make it beautiful for her first night with them. “For the moment, yes. A few of our friends are right now packing your things under your mother’s supervision and will bring them here. Later, of course, especially if there are children, this apartment will be much too small. We will look together for a bigger one. Would you like us to start looking immediately?” asked Goa. “Do you want Orna to live with us, too? We would like to have two women to love and cherish,” added Stan. “It’s just that I do most of the paperwork for the rose business, and I have bookshelves, and a desk, and a lot of other things I need to
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do the all paperwork. I could still do the actual packaging at my mother’s apartment because George and Wang always collect the parcels for shipping from us there. It’s convenient for them. But…” “Tomorrow, after the wedding, we’ll talk to the administrators about a bigger apartment. One with a room where you and your mother can conduct the business, and where there’s a bedroom for her, too.” Goa spoke firmly. “And space for a child or two. A bedroom and a playroom. I can see we’re going to need a very large apartment, to fit a family and your business in it,” joked Stan. Children. Something else to worry about. I know Mama would adore having a grandchild. She’d always wanted more than a single child. My fathers were taken from us when I was only a few months old and by the time they were finally released from prison they’d been deliberately infected with AIDS and were dying. So she was never able to have a second child. But am I ready to be a mother? Do we need the credits the business will earn, or do Stan and Goa earn enough credits to provide for us all? Another worry. Why do I have to think about all these things now? It’s too much when all I want is them to fuck me again and again. **** Everyone in the New Thimphu community was given enough work to do and credits to live on. Ninety percent of the community was underground and hidden from the eyes of the above-ground locals. In Green Ridge, the nearest small town, George and Wang had a shop that sold products made by the New Thimphu community. A small number of her soaps, ointments, and fragrances were sold in George and Wang’s store, along with general household goods and some traditional craft items made by other people in their community. But the store really just provided an excuse for George and Wang to travel to other larger towns, buying the goods and products the
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community needed and shipping the things they’d made. The vast majority of the community either worked in the service sector, managing and running the community, the school, the hospital, and the shops, or by providing online services that required no outside goods. But people always needed to purchase things they couldn’t provide for themselves, and George and Wang’s van was the way such items arrived and left. From the very beginning, the New Thimphu leaders had been determined to maintain their traditions and their cultural ways, and the easiest method of doing this was to stay as invisible as possible. Hence the thriving underground township. Folks in Green Ridge saw the above-ground families from time to time, saw very ordinary farms and homes, knew the children were home-schooled, and paid very little attention to them. Their families had farmed here now for several generations and they may have been considered a little strange, but were accepted. Had they known the community practiced polyandry, their easygoing attitude may have changed, but maybe not. They were known and accepted. The locals very much believed in a “live and let live” philosophy. Almost twenty years after Shiloah’s fathers had been mistreated, Goa and Songstan arrived at New Thimphu having given up their family farm knowing they could never have a polyandrous marriage in their hometown. Their family had never been truly accepted even though their fathers had always pretended only one was married to their mother. The sons decided they wanted to the freedom to openly love their wife when the time came. Their mother had died of cancer, their fathers had soon followed her to meet their ancestors, and the two young men traveled across country to New Thimphu to start life again. The money they had gotten for the farm had not been what it was worth, but it had been adequate to fund their travel, and they expected it would last them long enough to get established here. They hadn’t
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wanted to wait until the economy improved before they sold and began their new life. That may have been many years away. As soon as they’d seen Shiloah, they’d known she was the woman for them. It was very important that all the brothers agreed on the choice of a wife, as all shared her equally and all were equally responsible for her well-being. Goa had watched Shiloah tending the plants when The Grandparents’ Garden was being established, had looked at Stan, and his brother had smiled and nodded. All that remained was for them to get to know her better and decide on an appropriate time to abduct her and make her theirs. After all they’d overcome to get this far, finding a larger apartment was not a problem. Of course, now that the Garden was finished, they’d also need to find more work, too. Goa loved being outside, working the land. He already had some part-time work helping on the farms of the various above-ground New Thimphu families. Likely, Stan could find some work there, too, or in the hydroponic gardens. They’d worry about that later. Right now they had a wife to fuck! Goa pressed his hand on her belly. Oh Gods, she felt wonderful. Warm and soft. She smelled delicious, too. Her rose fragrance surrounded her like a cloud. He buried his nose in her hair, then in her neck. Yup. Roses everywhere. He licked a line along her shoulder. She even tasted of roses. It was thrilling to have her here in her bed with them, the bed they’d bought for her as soon as they’d seen her, in hopes she would be theirs. And she was. Just one more fuck must happen this night, him in her ass and Songstan in her cunt. Simultaneous penetration, the grand finale. Then the ritual would be completed and she would belong totally to them. Goa slid his hand lower, loving the feel of the curls covering her mound, then the hot little nub at the top of her slit. She was pressed so tight against them both he knew Stan could feel her little shiver as well as he could. Then his fingers slipped inside her cunt. She was hot and wet, just as he’d hoped. She also opened her legs for his pleasure,
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so she was ready and willing for this final step. The Gods had blessed them indeed in leading them to this wonderful woman. Her cunt had been delicious, her mouth warm and welcoming. He could hardly wait to sink his cock into her ass. To drive deep and hard and know his brother’s cock was in her as well, all three of them pounding to completion together. Goa left her in his brother’s arms and lifted her upper leg over Stan’s. He snatched the bottle of oil off the nightstand and dripped some onto his fingers, then pressed two fingers into her ass. Gods, she was hot. Her channel was still softened from the previous anal sex, but nevertheless, he rubbed a lot of oil into her walls, not wanting her to feel soreness. Then he slathered more oil over his cock, pulled her ass cheeks apart and pressed the head of his cock against her rosette. Goa knew his cockhead was wider than his brother’s, but he still popped through the opening easily. Goa let out a breath. They had to fuck all three ways, but he didn’t want her hurt. This needed to be good for her as well as for him and his brother. All he wanted to do was ram deep and hard into her until his balls were pressed tight to her body, but he held onto his urge with iron determination and slid gradually deeper and deeper inside her until she’d taken all of him into her warmth. Once he was settled deep inside her, everyone lying on their sides, he lifted her hips and put his under-leg underneath her body and pulled her upper leg on top of his top leg. This gave Stan enough room to enter her cunt from the front. Already, Shiloah was making little pleased noises. Goa nodded at his brother over her head, and Stan held his cock to her cunt and pressed in. Gods, she was tight. She was clasped around him like a wet, iron fist already, but the farther Stan pushed into her, the tighter her grip on him became. Yet, simultaneously, her walls seemed to expand to embrace them both. Goa had never thought much about how it would be to have another cock rubbing against his, but feeling his brother there, just on
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the other side of their wife’s thin tissues, was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced. She was their wife, belonging equally to both of them. Theirs! And right now the three of them were truly united, truly one flesh, bound so intimately and tightly together. Without saying a word, he and Stan wrapped their arms around each other, pinning Shiloah between them. Stan had to maneuver his legs a little to be able to thrust, then they set up a slow and steady pace, pushing into her together, withdrawing together, then thrusting back in. Shiloah was trying to wiggle, but they held her still. Gods, his cock would explode in a second if she was allowed to squirm like that! This had to last. Her pleasure must come first. He wanted this to be the best orgasm yet for her, which meant he had to be strong and raise the tension inside her much higher. Although his balls were ready to burst from just feeling her wet grip on him. Stan’s hands were digging into his shoulders so he knew his brother was finding it as hard to be patient as he was. Again, without words, they cranked up the speed and power a little, still driving in simultaneously, pulling out together, gradually moving a little faster with every thrust. He forced his hand between their bodies so he could play with her nipples. They were the most beautiful things. Pert and brown, and right now, they were harder than diamonds, and they pressed into his palms with sharp little points. Stan moved back a fraction to let him massage her breasts, and he very deliberately elongated each nipple, moving from one to the other, teasing them and stretching them, then giving each one a little pinch. “Yes, yes, yes,” groaned Shiloah, breaking out of their grip, to slam herself first forward onto Stan’s cock, then back onto his, driving his aching dick in her to the hilt and shattering his control. Her inner muscles clenched around him as his cock spurted hard, stream after stream of cum jetting from him as if he hadn’t come in months instead of in less than an hour. Her muscles pulled and
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gripped at him, dragging more and more cum from him. He knew his brother had exploded too as Shiloah’s orgasm went on and on, rippling and spasming around his cock. Shiloah rested her head back against his chest, and tenderly, he kissed her neck, reveling in that rose scent again, quite discernable even through the scent of sex and sweat. He rested both palms over her breasts, cupping the warm, soft mounds, noting that her nipples were still hard. Stan leaned in to kiss her mouth with a softly whispered “Thank you.” Then he reached down to pull the burgundy blanket over them all. Gods yes, they needed a nap. They could shower later. **** Despite having gone to bed so early, and without eating a proper meal, they all slept heavily until dawn. Stan woke first and hurried into the shower, then began preparing a meal. He and Goa shared the cooking, both being proficient chefs from the years of caring for their ailing mother before she’d gone to be with their ancestors. When their fathers had realized neither operations nor chemotherapy could save her, they’d become mere shadows of themselves, sitting for hours by her bed, each one holding one of her hands, dying themselves, an inch at a time along with her. He and Goa had taken over the running of the house and the farm, knowing that their fathers didn’t want to live if their mother was no longer there. They’d buried them all within a month of each other. But now, a new chapter had begun in their lives. A new home, a new community, new friends, and their very own wife. The Gods had truly smiled on them to give them Shiloah, and Stan was determined to make her the happiest woman on the planet if he possibly could. He and Goa had planned this first meal together to be a feast for the senses as well as for the palate. Golden jasmine rice, pink
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pomegranate juice mixed with water to cut the sugar content, and freshly baked bread spread with honey from the community’s beehives. He heard Goa wake and shower, and then heard Shiloah stir. He rushed in to kiss her awake, sitting on the bed beside her as Goa handed her soothing gel to anoint her ass after her shower. Stan gave her the parcel of clean clothing that had been left at their front door for her during the night, and Goa went and got her more clean towels. Then they left her in peace to get ready. She arrived at the table looking fresh and stunningly beautiful, her hair left hanging loose almost to her ass, her apple-green shirt making her chocolate-brown eyes sparkle, and her skin look even creamier than usual. “The meal looks delicious. Thank you,” she said, sliding onto the chair Goa held out for her. They all ate hungrily for a while, before Shiloah looked around. “What would you like, precious?” asked Stan, his heart still beating double-time at her incredible beauty and the amazing fact that she was here with them both. “I was wondering what time it is, and when my mama will be bringing my wedding gown.” Goa jumped up. “There’s a clock on the microwave stove, which says it’s almost eight. Our wedding is at eleven, and your mother and Anh will be here in half an hour. I’ll re-make the bed now, so you can sit on it as you dress.” He rushed from the room. Shiloah stood and helped carry the plates to the sink. “That was a lovely meal. Thank you, Stan. Do you do most of the cooking?” “At home, I tended to do more indoor chores, and Goa more outdoor chores. He loves being outside, working on the land. But since we’ve been here, we share equally. We take it in turns to cook. Or whoever is not working that day does the household chores. We’re both quite competent to do whatever is needed. We know your
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business is important to you, Shiloah. You won’t be forced to spend any longer in the house doing chores than you want to. If your mother is lonely, or if you need her, she is welcome here, too. Your happiness is our top priority.” She hugged him, making his heart pound with joy. “You’ve both been so very considerate. Because we share the business, my mother and I shared the chores, too. I think she’ll be fine by herself for a little while. Later, when we find a bigger apartment, we’ll see if we can move the business and my mother in as well so we can have the apartment as our base and only have to go to the hydroponic farm, not back and forth between her apartment, our place, and the farm. But for now, this is perfect.” Promptly at eight thirty, Orna and Anh arrived loaded down with parcels and packages and laughing happily. Anh threw herself into Shiloah’s arms. “I’m so happy for you, Shiloah. I’ve seen how you’ve looked at Stan and Goa, and I know this is just what you wanted.” Stan and Goa closed the bedroom door behind the women and disappeared into their own bedroom to get dressed. **** Shiloah had worn the traditional gown several times before on very special occasions. It was hand-woven, heavily embroidered silk on silk, a costly fabric and passed down through her mother’s family. Her own mother had worn it on her wedding day and on the day they’d been accepted as citizens of New Thimphu. Goa and Stan had asked her mother the color of the cloth, which was gold, and had purchased for Shiloah a pair of gold leather sandals to match it. Each sandal had their three names embroidered on it in a pattern of intertwined roses. Tears gathered in Shiloah’s eyes as she looked at the sandals. “They’re far too beautiful to wear.”
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“They’re a gift of love. Your husbands will be hurt if you don’t wear them,” said Orna. “Besides, think how jealous the other women will be when they see them,” added Anh, laughing. Finally, Shiloah stood quite still with her arms extended as Anh and Orna wrapped the long length of fabric around her, making pleats and patterns with it as they folded her in it until it looked just like a gown, not like yards and yards of fabric. Anh handed her a belt, also in gold leather, and also with their three names embroidered on it intertwined with roses. Shiloah’s lips trembled and she had to take a deep breath so she didn’t cry. Her men had gone to so much trouble to make their marriage special. First, the decorated bedroom and the chanted story, then the special breakfast, now the sandals and belt. No woman could have two more kind and thoughtful husbands. Not to mention handsome, strong, and tigers in bed! Soon the men were knocking on the door. “We need to leave soon,” said Goa. “Can’t be late to our own wedding ceremony,” added Songstan. Anh flung the door open, and Shiloah looked at her husbands. They were wearing identical deep green pants that fit tight around their hips and thighs, showing off their heavily muscled legs and taut asses. Shiny black boots were on their feet. Shiloah let her gaze roam up their legs across two cocks that were quite visible ridges, long and thick, cupped by the fabric of their pants, past their waists encircled by black leather belts, and up over loose, flowing, crisp white shirts. The stark white against their tanned skin almost made her drool. They looked incredibly hot! From the stunned looks on their faces, they liked how she looked, too. “Th–thank you for the sandals and the belt. They’re so beautiful.” “Not as beautiful as you are,” said Stan, picking up her hand and pressing a soft, sweet kiss to her palm.
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“The Gods have surely smiled on us, leading us to you. For years I wondered if we would ever find a community that upheld our traditions. I was so happy when we came here to New Thimphu. Then we saw you, and I still can’t believe you agreed to marry us. We’re the luckiest men on earth to have you.” Goa knelt at her feet and bent his head. Tears filled Shiloah’s eyes as she gently rested a hand on his head. “Please, stand up. I don’t deserve your adoration. I’m just a normal woman.” Shiloah was startled when her mother clapped her hands together loudly to attract their attention. “Come. We must go to the temple for the ceremony.” The men picked up an oblong textile bag, which had been sitting on a table, and handed it to Anh, then led the women to the door. Shiloah noticed Anh’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, and her mother surreptitiously wiped her cheeks. She sniffed back her own tears and concentrated on walking carefully in her very expensive gown and precious sandals. Purple apartment block, so-called because the front of the building had a geometric design in various shades of purple painted on it, was only a five-minute walk from the center of the community. Because it was underground, the streets were actually brightly lit tunnels with the walls painted in ever-changing colors, with blues blending into greens, then yellows, oranges, reds, pinks, purples, and back to blue again. At every intersection and doorway, a horse was painted high on the wall. The horse was always walking toward the center of town, so even if someone became confused about which street they were on, by following the direction of the horses they would find themselves back at the town center. Their group turned into the main street and the temple was just ahead of them. It was a large, white, rectangular building with a curved roof, and just below it was a red ochre stripe that went right
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around the entire building. The walls gave the appearance of sloping inward because of the design. There were a few windows high up under the stripe and one massive door. Through the doorway was a large courtyard where all the community had gathered. Father Yeshe, their monk, an old man with a full head of pure white hair, stood immediately in front of the entry to the temple proper. He was wearing a long robe of blues and greens, geometric shapes woven and intertwined so the colors blended into each other and shimmered as he moved. He wore the robe for all ceremonial occasions, and Shiloah was always awed by its intricate design and eye-catching colors. As they moved to stand in front of Father Yeshe, the crowd stilled and became silent. The old man spoke briefly of love and commitment then nodded to Goa. Goa cupped her right palm and placed a small, surprisingly heavy, gold bar in it. “All that we own, or ever will own, is yours,” he said and touched his lips gently to hers. The monk nodded to Songstan, who stepped in front of her, held her left hand palm up, and placed in it a perfect, ripe, bright red apple. “We will always care for you and provide for you. This is our solemn promise.” He kissed her forehead, the faintest brush of his lips to her skin. Together, the men placed a crown of jasmine flowers on her hair. “We will love, honor, and cherish you, all the days of our lives,” they said. Pulling them from the textile bag, Anh handed the men each a small sheaf of rice and Shiloah several sticks of her own rose-petal incense, taking the gold bar and apple from her in the same smooth movement. After the monk set a taper to a large white candle, Shiloah lit her incense sticks from its flame and walked with her new husbands to the altar where they laid the rice, and she the incense. Then the men turned her to face the crowd, gathered her in their arms, and kissed her deeply. The crowd clapped and stomped with
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approval, and Shiloah took a deep breath and smiled. Now I am married. And oh my, to the handsomest, kindest men I’ve ever met. Food was brought into the courtyard, and the party began in earnest. Shiloah and her men were hugged and feted, and she could see many young women who, from the looks on their faces, would have gladly swapped places with her. It was only a few days ago I was watching Stan and Goa with that sort of look. And now I’ve spent the most amazing night of my life with them. I never even imagined having so many orgasms in one night! Never knew it was possible to come so hard, so often. When she reached her mother, she gave her an especially heartfelt hug. “I’m so happy for you, my daughter. They’re good men. I know you’ll be as happy as I was with your fathers, and I believe you’ll have many more years of bliss than I did.” “Oh, Mama, I’m so happy. Thank you for everything.” **** Goa, Stan, and Shiloah walked from the temple to the administrative building to fill out the legal paperwork. Under the law of the land, a woman could only be married to one man, so their people always filled out such paperwork as being married to the oldest son. If they ever needed to visit the outside world, it was usually he who would accompany her. Once the papers were signed and the civil ceremony completed— which took a mere ten minutes—Goa took them through the administration building to talk to the worker in charge of housing. As a semi-new member of the community, he was worried he might sound pushy, even rude, but they really would need a bigger apartment. He never wanted Orna to feel unloved, widowed so tragically as she had been. Besides, without his own parents to care for anymore, Goa welcomed the thought of having a new mother in
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his life. It was totally unreasonable to expect Shiloah to be commuting between the hydroponic farm, her mother’s apartment, and their own apartment each day. Moving to an apartment with space for the business as well was just plain good sense. Goa knocked nervously on Sompel’s door then ushered his wife and brother into the room. Sompel’s office walls were covered in maps and architectural drawings. Goa guessed they were for the brown apartment block, which was almost completed. The entire community was looking forward to the completion of the work, although now that the people had learned how to extend their hill artificially, he guessed more building would be in their plans soon, if not already. Extending the hydroponic garden would be one thing he’d like to suggest. He could think of several new crops it would be good to try. Sompel stood and shook hands with everyone. “Ah, Goa, Songstan, Shiloah. Congratulations and many wishes for happiness. Sit, sit. In what way can I help you?” Goa cleared his throat, took a breath, and prayed he would explain the needs of his new family clearly. “Stan and I have an apartment in purple block. It’s a new building, very nice. We’ve been very happy there. But now we are married—Shiloah needs space for an office to run her business. Space to package her products for shipping. I’m sure you know all about Fragrant Roses. And Orna… It would be really good if Orna was not left alone, was able to live with us to continue working in the business and to be with her only child, too. “We’ve only been in this community for a few months, but it’s home to us now. We’re willing to work very hard, and we have money banked from the sale of our old farm…” Goa trailed off. He couldn’t beg. It wasn’t in his nature to do so. But for Shiloah, for his new family, he needed to put her first. “I will do whatever work is needed to help us move to a bigger apartment where there is room for all Shiloah needs and for her mother,” he concluded.
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Sompel looked thoughtful. “The first two levels of the new brown apartments are bigger, family homes. One of those might suit you, although I think most are already reserved. But there may be another option. He sat and tapped his teeth with his pencil. Goa’s gut was roiling with tension. He prayed frantically to his ancestors and the Gods to help him pass this first obstacle to a happy married life. He knew Shiloah wouldn’t complain, but she had a right to be helped to continue her business without hindrance. And Orna. Orna had suffered so much. To have her husbands ripped from her arms so unfairly. To watch them die because of evil prejudice. Her life should be filled with joy and pleasure now, not loneliness and worry. Goa gripped the sides of his chair until his knuckles were white with tension. “Tell me about your family farm. What did you grow there? What did each of you do?” asked Sompel. Goa was confused. Why was the official asking about the old farm? Shouldn’t he be asking about what they were doing now? Mentally, he shrugged. Likely Sompel was just trying to put them at ease. Deliberately, he relaxed his hands and arms before he answered. “It was a small farm but productive. We grew rice in the lower fields with irrigation from the river, not in a paddy, but similar. My fathers had built a simple aqueduct to bring the water from the river to the fields. We had an orchard of fruit trees. For many years, our mother had a wonderful vegetable and herb garden, which Stan kept going. And we had chickens and ducks, a cow for milk.” “There was also a flower garden specifically designed and planted so that there was something in bloom all year round,” added Stan. “We even had roses and tulips. Mother always had bowls of flowers in the house. Their scent was wonderful.” Goa nodded. Sompel still tapped his pencil on his teeth. Then he said, “What about fish farming?”
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“We’ve both worked some on the rice paddies above ground here. When they’re flooded the fish grow in them and eat the weeds. The traditional methods are wise ones.” “These days people would use such terms as ‘sustainable farming’ and ‘environmentally friendly methods.’ Although we’ve had most of our experience above ground, and Goa has always loved being in the open air, we are happy working underground here. Being able to follow our traditional ways is more important to us than being outside,” Stan added. “What about you, Shiloah. You’ve lived outside, haven’t you?” “I was only a few months old when my fathers were arrested. Mama and I still lived in the same house my fathers had brought her to as a new bride, but obviously she had to get a job to support us both all those years they were in jail. “Within a year of coming home they had died, and the prejudice against us was still very strong. That’s when Mama made arrangements for us to come here. So yes, I lived for eight years outside. I enjoy seeing the sun and the stars and the hills, but after what was done to my family, I’m very happy to be here in the community where the old ways are honored.” “So being outside wouldn’t frighten you, Shiloah?” “Of course not. I’m not like Kesse, who works in the temple so she feels safe and protected and will never ever go outside. I even went on a couple Girl Scout campouts and slept under the stars as a child. But I’m content here,” she reiterated. Goa was worried. What were all these questions about? Had he done the wrong thing bringing them here to request a bigger apartment? Should he ask or might that anger Sompel? Gods, what should I do? What should I say? Help me! The words came out of his mouth without him even thinking them. “Sompel, why are you asking these questions? Forgive me if I haven’t followed the correct protocol by coming here.”
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“No, no, not at all. In fact, you may have come just at the perfect time. Do any of you know old Ugyen?” “He’s just gone to live in The Grandparents’ Garden. He likes to sit in the courtyard and watch us work there,” said Shiloah. “Ah, a very old man, almost bald with just the faintest fluff of gray hair above his ears. I remember him. We had some good conversations about the vegetable garden there. He’s friends with Grandfather Lim,” added Goa. Stan was nodding. “Why do you mention him?” “One of the farms on the outside belongs to him. He’s the only child of one of the original settlers. But as an only son, he refused to marry, saying it was unfair for a woman to have only one husband and that he didn’t feel qualified to care for a woman alone. Usually when that happens, a man will join with another only son to share a woman, but old Ugyen remained single all his life.” Goa was nodding. He’d heard of such a situation before. But what did that have to do with the three of them and their request? “For twenty years now, other people have watched over his land for him, but he chose to stay on in the house where he was born. When he heard about The Grandparents’ Garden, and when his oldest friends moved there, old Ugyen moved in, too. He wants his house to be lived in again, new crops planted on his farm, the land made productive again. Because you have all lived outside, you would be ideal to do this, and your farming skills”—he nodded to Stan and Goa—“would enable you to trial some new crops.” “That sounds wonderful. But what about the people who are already farming his land? Won’t they be upset if we just move in and take over?” Goa’s heart was pounding so hard it was almost beating its way out of his chest. To be outside on the land again would be wonderful. To do that with the support of a community who followed the traditional ways would be beyond anything he had ever dreamed of.
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“Much planning will need to take place. You will have to be introduced to the people of Green Ridge, and Orna, too. Although our people live almost separate lives, there is always a certain amount of interaction. I will have to coordinate things with Ugyen and with George and Wang. To answer your question, Jim, Sam, and Paul have more than enough to deal with maintaining their own farm. Anyway, their role has been more caretakers than farmers in regards to Ugyen’s land. They, too, are recently married, and Sam and Chevaunne also have other jobs as well as the farm. It would be good for all of New Thimphu, not just fulfilling the old man’s wishes to have a family living in that house, to bring the land into full production again.” “I’d be living near Chevaunne? Oh my, that would be awesome,” said Shiloah. “Could we plant more roses? Mama and I would like to expand the business. We could sell far more ointments than we can make at present, and establishing a new rose garden would be the perfect tribute to my fathers.” Goa felt a smile break out across his face. Shiloah was happy about the plan. He would fulfill his dream to work outdoors on the land again and still live in the traditional ways. He looked at his brother and saw a goofy grin on Stan’s face, too. Never in his wildest imaginings had he anticipated anything like this happening. He’d thought when Shiloah had agreed to let them enter her body, his life could never get any better. Well, it just had. The Gods had blessed them indeed. “I don’t think you should say anything about this to anyone else until I’ve spoken with Ugyen and drawn up the paperwork,” said Sompel. The three nodded. “We’d intended to spend a few hours wandering around the museum and art gallery, but I think we’ll go straight home to celebrate,” said Goa.
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Chapter Three After changing out of their ceremonial clothes, they sat at the table drinking coffee and eating tiny, mouth-watering pastries Kiri had left as a gift for them, talking about all the opportunities living outside would bring. “Of course, there will some challenges, too,” said Shiloah thoughtfully. “For example, I won’t be able to say I’ve been living here since I was eight years old. Because Chevaunne has just recently arrived, perhaps I could say I’m a friend of hers and that we came here to farm with them. That would work for you, too. Two men will be needed to do the chores, so bringing your brother with you to help us is logical. “The Green Ridge folk accept that we’re a tight-knit community, very family-oriented. They think that’s a good thing. As a farming community themselves, they often say they don’t like the modern way of doing things,” she added. Shiloah watched as Stan ate the last pastry off the plate. His fingers were sturdy and tanned from hard physical labor, but they held the pastry delicately, just as he’d held her hand with love at their wedding ceremony. And just as he’d touched her nipples last night, she remembered with a lustful shiver. Goa was sipping his coffee, the long column of his neck so brown, rising from the opening of his stark white T-shirt. The men often seemed to wear white shirts, and the color looked extremely good on them, providing, as it did, such a contrast to their black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin.
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Goa’s movements were slow and steady, calm, assured, just as he’d fucked her with such calm assurance last night, building up the need inside her until she burst in a spectacular orgasm. Oh my, she was a lucky, lucky woman to have these two men eager to bring her the ultimate in pleasure. Just watching them made her panties dampen with desire. They were so totally yummy. Only twenty-four hours ago, she’d been wondering how she could see them again. Now they were wedded, and she’d been very delightfully bedded. Her muscles were still a bit overused, but that wasn’t going to stop her from using them again. Tonight, she hoped. She licked her lips as she watched the men, her heart beating faster than normal as her blood thrummed through her veins, lust clouding her vision. She felt their joint gazes on her, burning her with fiery passion, eating her up, consuming every part of her. “Bedtime,” said Goa hoarsely, jumping out of his chair. “Yes,” agreed Stan, grabbing their cups and plates and rushing across to dump them in the sink. Goa picked Shiloah up in his arms and carried her into her bedroom. Stan moved past them and pulled the blanket down so Goa could lay her on the bed. Shiloah surprised herself by suggesting naughtily, “Why don’t you men get undressed first this time?” Goa stared at her, his eyes round and surprised. Stan kicked his shoes off and started unbuckling his belt without waiting for further instructions. Goa quickly followed suit. Within a few moments, they were both naked and climbing on the bed. Their hands gentled, and their speed slowed as they touched her clothes. Together, they half sat her up to pull her tee over her head. Then Stan kissed her mouth as Goa unsnapped her bra and pulled it down over her arms and off, letting it drop to the bed with her T-shirt. Her sandals were next, one man unbuckling each one and letting them fall to the floor. Then their hands ran around her waist, feeling for the fastenings to her skirt. When they didn’t find them, Goa raised
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her up again while Stan slid behind her, looking at the back of her skirt. “There’s no zipper or buttons here,” said Stan. Goa knelt and looked carefully at both sides of her skirt running his hands around her waist as if feeling for a hidden placket. “Not here either, but it’s not an elastic waistband or we’d be able to feel that.” His voice was filled with confusion. Shiloah laughed. “It’s stretch fabric. The skirt lifts off over my head,” she explained. “I can see we have a lot to learn about women’s clothing,” muttered Goa, lifting her up with her ass off the bed so Stan could pull her skirt up. “At least these lessons will be fun,” said Stan, tugging slowly and steadily as the skirt rose up past her naked breasts. Goa settled her back on the bed, then hitched a finger on each side of her panties and drew them down her legs. His gaze was so hot on her skin that Shiloah thought her flesh might ignite. Her pussy creamed in delight, and her belly clenched with need. Then Stan’s hands were on her breasts, gently cupping the globes and smoothing over the nipples—nipples which were suddenly hard and protruding, demanding more attention. Stan laid her flat and bent his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. He sucked it deep then pressed it to the roof of his mouth rolling the little nub with his tongue. Shiloah gasped and clutched his head to her breasts, wanting, needing more. Then she gasped harder as Goa’s mouth was on her pussy, licking along her slit, running his tongue along her labia, and then sucking her clit into his mouth. He sucked it hard as his fingers slid into her cunt, teasing the walls. The pressure on her breasts and pussy was so good, like two fires burning her at once. She opened her knees wider, welcoming Goa’s mouth on her cunt, his tongue now deep in her channel, licking the tissues, making her honey flow faster.
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Stan licked the undersides of her breasts, tonguing circles and spirals around and around the globes, gradually working his way back to the nipples—nipples that ached for more of his mouth, longed for his touch on them again. Goa knelt between her thighs, lifted her legs over his shoulders, and held her butt up in the air so he could press his cock at her entrance. He felt so wonderful sliding into her, stretching her tissues, filling her completely with his hot, hard length. As soon as he was fully seated inside her, Goa grasped her hips and said, “Now you, brother.” Stan straddled her body, also kneeling, but leaning well forward. He rested his cock in the valley between her breasts, pushed her breasts together over his cock, and gently slid up and down. “Oh yesss,” she murmured. “So good.” It took Stan and Goa a few strokes to get a rhythm going, but soon they were stroking together, Goa deep into her cunt, Stan up and down between her breasts. Stan’s natural movements were faster, but he slowed them a little, and Goa’s speed was normally more measured, but he relaxed his intensity a little, and the double friction this caused aroused Shiloah instantly. Cream was dripping from her pussy, and sweat forming where the men’s muscular thighs gripped her sides. As she had the previous night, she felt totally possessed, cherished, worshipped, adored. With one hand, she clutched Stan’s head, and the other she laid over Goa’s hand on her hip. Her own hips rose and fell with the pace they set, cranking the sexual heat inside her up and up. She tried circling her own hips and was rewarded by Goa’s moan and the feeling of his cock dragging along her internal walls. She would have liked to do it again, but she wanted to attempt something that would please Stan next time. So she tugged his head closer to her face and pressed her lips to his forehead. He, too, moaned, and lifted his lips to hers, kissing her passionately as he thrust his cock up and down between her breasts.
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His tongue dived into her mouth, mimicking what the two cocks were doing to her body. The extreme carnality of it all made her belly clench, and the orgasm rising inside her start to ripple along her internal muscles. Desperately, she clenched her cunt muscles tight, gripping Goa’s cock as hard as she could, and sucked on Stan’s tongue as they kissed. The ripples inside her became waves that crashed over her, sending her spasming into an orgasm. Her head dropped back onto the bed as her body tensed in release. Goa slammed into her deep and hard as his hot cum exploded inside her, the heat of his passion encouraging her orgasm to ripple once more. Then Stan came, his seed spilling onto her breasts, as he let them go so he could hold his cock as it spurted hot and hard onto her skin. Watching him come was so erotic. The long, white, ropey stream pulsing from him onto her body made her cunt clench yet again as her orgasm let forth a few more aftershocks of delight. They collapsed into a tangled, sweaty, messy heap of arms and legs for a few minutes, all breathing heavily. Then Stan pulled her up saying, “Come on, we really need a shower now.” The shower was rather crowded with all three of them in it together, but the men made sure the water sprayed Shiloah first, Goa washing her body, carefully cleansing every little crevice and indentation of her, while Stan shampooed her hair, then rinsed it thoroughly. They climbed out, Goa wrapping a big fluffy towel around her while Stan encased her hair in another towel. “I wonder if there’s a tub at Ugyen’s house or if we could install one. A nice big tub that we could all sit in,” Stan said. “Chevaunne told me about the huge, deep whirlpool tub in her house. I don’t think you could bring such a thing in these days without all the Green Ridge folk noticing,” said Shiloah. “I don’t know. We could legitimately be bringing in all our furniture and some farm equipment from wherever we used to live. I
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wonder what furniture is in the house, what we can buy from him, and what we need to get ourselves,” said Goa. “Mama and I have all the things we need for our rose business. Although, if we decide to grow roses on the new farm, likely we’ll have to buy some things…” Stan patted her gently. “Wait and see. We need to see what’s already there, and what we have between us, before we decide what we need to buy. And how to get it there without upsetting the Green Ridge people.” “Ha. I’ll have to make up a spreadsheet for that,” she joked. **** They were sitting in The Grandparents’ Garden, Ugyen making intelligent and pertinent remarks about the shrubs when he changed the topic abruptly. “I’m glad you’re moving onto my farm. I should have left it years ago, but something kept me there even though I couldn’t care for the land properly. Now I know I was waiting for you to arrive, Goa and Stan. I have no child, no grandchild, not even a nephew or niece. All I have is now yours. I ask only enough credits to stay here until I die.” “No, Grandfather, that would not be honorable of us, to take without giving,” said Goa, surprise, joy, and worry racing across his features. “You called me Grandfather. Such a beautiful word. I shall become your grandfather. Then all will be as tradition dictates, as the seniors help provide for the next generation.” Goa bowed his head. “We’re honored to have you as our grandfather. Our parents are dead, and we long to have an elder in our family. It shall be as you say.” “And you shall come and visit the farm when we have it flourishing again. You’ll see the land bloom once again as it did in the past,” promised Shiloah.
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A lively conversation developed about various fields and what to plant in them. Shiloah sat back and watched their faces. Her men’s faces were alive and alight with excitement and joy as they planned their future. Grandfather Ugyen’s face was glowing with peaceful serenity as he offered advice to his new family. **** The next few weeks flew by as the men planned how to treat each field and discussed with Jim, Sam, Paul, and Grandfather Ugyen the most appropriate crops and planting times. Shiloah and Orna talked about the different varieties of roses—which ones were best for soaps, and which for fragrances, and which for ointments—and decided what they’d plant first. They also spent time with Chevaunne, planning the various rooms of the house and where would be the best place for the office. Each of the above-ground homes was connected to the underground community by means of tunnels. The tunnel from Chevaunne’s house was in the barn. In Ugyen’s, it was from the mudroom, which would make shipping the parcels of rose products much easier as they wouldn’t need to be taken outside at all. No stranger would be aware of the business. The people of New Thimphu were very aware of the need to hide from outsiders, not just their polyandrous marriage system, but also their comparative wealth. Each above-ground house was left looking very ordinary. With all the brothers sharing a wife, land was not divided, and no younger son was left without means of earning a living. Such stability led to prosperity and in the past people had become jealous of this way of life. That was why the original settlers had built New Thimphu and kept most of it hidden underground. The stories of more recent arrivals, such as what had happened to Orna’s husbands and even the coming of Goa and Songstan, encouraged
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them to intentionally and deliberately continue maintaining their privacy. Goa and Stan, along with Jim, were once again visiting Grandfather Ugyen to discuss the farm. Shiloah left them sitting in the courtyard garden and wandered inside to see if Chevaunne, who worked as a nurse in the seniors’ facility, or Anh, whose great grandmother was a resident there, were free to come have a coffee with her. Honored Grandmother was asleep in a comfy armchair in her room. Anh must have been visiting with her when she dozed off because Anh was standing just outside the doorway talking softly to Tim. Shiloah quietly stepped back out of view. For some time, she’d noticed the way Anh’s gaze and conversation turned to Tim, Barry, and Russell. Russell was a doctor in the hospital adjoined to the seniors’ facility, and he’d been instrumental in the establishment of The Grandparents’ Garden. Tim, she didn’t really know much about, but the youngest brother, Barry, had a head of flaming red hair and was a teacher in the elementary school. There were few redheads in the community, so Barry stood out. But now, looking at Tim, Shiloah couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was, and how his gaze was fixed on Anh, eating her up with an intense, passionate look. Hmm, I know she likes them all. I wonder if there’s an abduction and marriage coming up soon in her future. Wow! Three men to fuck. Two is plenty for me! Although Chevaunne is married to three men, of course. Thinking of Chevaunne reminded her that she’d intended to visit with her, so Shiloah turned back the way she’d come and looked around for her friend. The Grandparents’ Garden seniors’ facility was built in a hollow square format with just the one passageway that went around in a circle, so the elderly who liked to walk but were too frail or too forgetful to be allowed to go outside could walk around and around
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the building, never being stopped by closed doors or getting lost and disoriented. All the residents’ rooms were on the inner side of the hallways with big windows out onto the central garden. The rooms on the windowless outer side were the administration and treatment rooms, including one with a concealed door that led into the hospital, which was the exit. It had a huge mirror on it so that dementia patients would be misled as to its purpose and not try to leave. Throughout New Thimphu, all concealed exits were opened using a yellow trigger. At Chevaunne’s farm, the door into the tunnel was accessed by pulling on a yellow bucket in the barn. In the Grandparents’ Garden, there was a yellow lever, installed up high enough to be out of reach of small children. At Ugyen’s house it was a yellow-painted knob in the mudroom, presumably originally designed to hang hats and coats on to dry. Shiloah glanced into all the treatment rooms as she passed but didn’t see Chevaunne. Oh well, both my friends are busy. I’ll go sit in the garden with the menfolk some more and think about the varieties of roses I plan to plant on the farm. So far, she and Orna had thought six rows of bushes, each row a different color, so the scents would blend as the plants grew, would be good. “Hey, Shiloah!” Shiloah turned with a smile. Kiri’s voice was unmistakable. She always seemed to be about to break into a giggle—assuming she wasn’t giggling already. Kiri was a tall, solid, physically strong woman, and definitely not the fluffy airhead casual observers assumed her to be due to the giggling. Kiri had been in love with George and Wang, who owned and operated the above-ground store in Green Ridge, and also acted as facilitators for the shipping of goods in and out of New Thimphu, for several years now. While George, the older brother, seemed to view her with appreciation, Wang was reserved and kept his distance. Both Shiloah and Chevaunne had wondered if it was because he’d never gotten close enough to her to
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understand the sharp and astute mind hidden behind the giggles. All the brothers had to agree on a bride before Father Yeshe would sanction an abduction and wedding, so a happy ending to her love seemed to be out of reach for Kiri. “Hey, girlfriend. What’re you doing here down today?” “Grandfather Lim’s new false teeth were ready so I thought I’d drop them in for him. Poor old man has been reduced to eating mashed food for a week since he broke his old set. I thought he’d like to have them in time for lunch so he could have a decent meal again.” “That’s so like you, Kiri. You go out of your way to help people.” Kiri blushed and giggled. “It’s no problem since I’ve got an electric cart. It makes running errands ten times faster than walking everywhere.” “Maybe. I need to walk though, or my butt would be even bigger than it is now,” replied Shiloah. “Have you got time for a coffee? The men are busy talking crops again.” “I’d love to.” As they walked off toward the nearest café, Shiloah wondered if she and her friends could show Wang how intelligent and sweet Kiri was without actually interfering in his and George’s lives. Hmm, that’s tricky. **** Stan was excited about planting crops and watching them grow from bare brown soil, through tiny green shoots to sturdy plants and finally, waving fields of grain ready to harvest. But he was even more excited by being in a house with Shiloah where they could make her scream in ecstasy without the neighbors hearing. Where they could fuck her against a wall, pounding into her until the wall shook, without scaring everyone in the apartment block. Where they could take her on a table, or a sofa, or the floor. And Gods, he wanted a tub like the one Jim, Sam, and Paul had. What he could do with her in one
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of those. He got hard just picturing her there, her creamy body flushed pink from the heat and steam, her long hair trailing on the water as he fucked her leaning against the side of the tub or sitting on his lap with the water caressing her magnificent breasts, or—Gods! He’d come in his pants like a teenager if he didn’t stop thinking about it. But they needed to order a huge hot tub. It was definitely a top priority! George and Wang, along with a couple of muscular young men, had helped them move the things they’d decided to take with them from their apartment into a large truck. The same young men had moved Shiloah and Orna’s things. Having lived in the community for so many years, they’d accumulated a lot more possessions than Stan and Goa. When Shiloah had suggested sorting through her things and giving some away, Stan and Goa had both been adamant she keep as much as she wanted. “We’re moving into a large house. There’ll be plenty of room. If you want to give some things away later, that’s good, but there’s no need to downsize when we’re upsizing,” Goa had explained somewhat muddily. Stan thought Orna had been relieved when they’d spoken. He suspected she’d kept mementoes of her late husbands, and he certainly didn’t want her to think such things would not be welcomed in her new home. Goa had driven the big truck with their furniture, Shiloah sitting beside him. This truck would be returned to New Thimphu after it was unpacked. Stan had followed them, driving a runabout farm truck that they’d be keeping to use on the farm and around Green Ridge, and with him was one of the young men who’d drive the big van away after helping them unload. The hot tub and some farming equipment they’d ordered would be arriving in a few weeks, but they had all they needed for now. They stopped first at Chevaunne’s farm, and the family ran out to greet them, hugging Shiloah, and shaking hands with the men before taking them all inside. It was the first time any of them had ever been
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to their house from the outside road. Always before, they’d come from the community, underground, via the tunnels. “It’s really interesting to see how the land above connects with the city below. Rather like putting together all the pieces of a threedimensional jigsaw,” Stan said. “That’s a really good image,” said Chevaunne. “I learned it all simultaneously because I was kidnapped to this house. But I see what you mean. It’s exactly like putting the pieces of a puzzle together. Which tunnel leads to whose house.” “Do you feel safe here? Really safe?” Orna asked Chevaunne. “Yes, I do. These people are not like the horrible people where you used to live. They’re kind and polite. Helpful. They understand we ‘keep to ourselves,’ as they call it, and they respect that. No one has ever been rude to me, and they know I live here with all three men, although they also believe I’m married to only Jim. It’s really good that you and Shiloah are here. We’ll be able to do some girl stuff together. George and Wang’s store is an awesome place to visit. And there’s a lovely little café on the main street of Green Ridge. They do a truly delicious stuffed baked potato. Whenever one of my friends visits, we always have lunch there.” Jim and Paul rode with them to their house—which Stan still thought of as Ugyen’s house—and helped them unload the big van and the truck. For a few hours, Stan’s mind was fully occupied with lifting, loading, and shifting box after box, tables, chairs, bookshelves, and more boxes. Finally, they were done, and they all sat out on the stoop drinking coffee and eating the sandwiches Shiloah and Orna had made them. Then the helpers climbed into the empty big truck so the driver could drop Paul and Jim back home before returning the truck to the community. Stan, Goa, and the women waved them good-bye as they pulled out onto the long driveway to return to the road. Then Stan turned and rested his gaze on Shiloah. She was so lovely standing there in jeans and a tee, a dirty mark across one cheekbone, her hair
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bundled into a messy ponytail. Her chocolate eyes sparkled with excitement, and her lush body made him yearn for bedtime. But first he needed to help Orna unpack some of her things so she felt more at home. This was her home, too, now. She was a valued member of their family. **** The men were always so loving and giving in bed, ensuring she came and came with wondrous orgasms. But this night, the first in their house, Shiloah wanted to be the one who did the giving. She knew they were tired from stress, worry, and the hard physical labor of moving. She was stunned by the amount they’d achieved. She’d expected to be picking her way through boxes, looking for missing items for weeks, but the vast bulk of the boxes were already unpacked, her books sitting neatly on her bookshelves, clothing folded in drawers or hanging in closets, all the food stuffs tidily arranged in the pantry. And while she and her mama had worked hard on the fine details, Orna in the pantry and herself with the books and office gear, Shiloah was well aware that the heavy work had predominantly been done by all the men, and Goa and Stan had spent more hours packing and unpacking than anyone else. Her aim tonight was to pleasure them with the hardest orgasms she could deliver. Although she knew she ought to lose a little weight, especially from her thighs and hips, for some strange reason the men loved to see her naked, so she began by walking from the adjoining bathroom into their bedroom nude. She stood at the foot of the bed, placed her hands on her hips, thrust her breasts forward, then, keeping her gaze on their faces, turned her body toward the side wall and put her foot flat on the bed, keeping her legs apart so they had a clear view of her pussy and the dampness on her dark curls.
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Goa’s jaw dropped, and she watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. Stan hissed out a breath and whispered, “Gods!” “You like that?” she teased. “How about this?” She put her foot down on the floor and turned her back to them, wiggled her ass, then bent right forward so her pussy was lifted to them. “Come here, precious,” groaned Stan, holding his arms out to her. “Oh, I don’t think so. You’ve both still got clothes on.” Two pairs of feet hit the floor on these words, and clothes flew through the air like leaves in a storm. In a matter of seconds, they were both on the bed again, naked. “You were saying?” asked Goa. She walked over to the bed, keeping her breasts thrust out, and ran a hand over Goa’s erection. It was long and very hard, the broad, flat head already a dark red. But she’d seen him bigger. Shiloah moved over to cup Stan’s balls. They were hard and drawn up, and she could see a drop of pre-cum in the eye of his cock, but she knew he could hold on a little longer, so she rolled the balls between her fingers then flicked her tongue over the head before turning back to Goa and sucking his balls into her mouth. “Lie on the bed close together,” she ordered after stepping back from the men. If they were surprised by her new, bossy persona, they didn’t complain, just moved as she’d instructed them. She opened the nightstand, unsurprised to find the lube there, ready and waiting. With the tube in her hand, she clambered onto the bed, straddling their four legs, making sure to drag her damp pussy across their skin so they could feel how aroused she was. The coarse hair on their legs tickled her hot, sensitized flesh, making her cream even more. Then she sat just above their knees and took a cock in each hand, gently sliding her hands up the shafts, rubbing a finger over each head, pressing the pads of her fingers into the long, throbbing veins. Finally, she bent over and sucked first one, then the
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other, deep into her mouth, tasting their flavors, rejoicing in their similarities and their differences. Oh my, they taste good. Reluctantly letting them go, she swiped her tongue up and down each long erection then swiveled around presenting her ass to the men. She leaned right forward, rubbing her breasts on their legs, enjoying once again the coarse hair tickling her tender flesh. Then she lifted her ass up in to the air, spreading her legs wide to let them see how hot and pink her cunt was with her need to be possessed and how tight her little rosette was. Yet it would open wide to let one of them in tonight. Sitting up again, she gave them a wicked look over her shoulder, flipped her hair back, and held out the lube. “Which of you wants my ass tonight?” she asked. “You choose. You seem to be in charge at the moment,” said Goa. Stan nodded. “Hmm. Goa in my pussy, and Stan in my ass, then,” she replied, handing Stan the lube and using both hands to hold her butt cheeks open. She rested her body on their legs, playing with their arches and toes as a slippery finger penetrated her anus. As she gave them each a foot massage, more fingers slid into her ass, stretching and softening the tissues, making her ready for a big, hard cock. Soon, she was rubbing her aching nipples and hungry cunt on their skin, desperate for them to take her, to possess her. “Enough. I want you both now,” she said suddenly. She turned around, pushed Goa flat, then held his weeping cock at her entrance. Her pussy stretched around his girth as it welcomed him inside, and she sank lower over his dick until his balls were pressed hard against her, and he was fully enclosed inside her. Stan scrambled around behind her and rested his big hand flat against her lower spine. Obediently, she stretched her body forward, leaving her ass up. She was well prepared, and he penetrated the ring of muscles easily, then pushed farther inside. As always, her tissues
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stretched and expanded to accommodate the second cock. Always, she felt totally full with one man. Always, her body simply opened to accept the other one as well. It was an unbelievably good feeling to be so full, so stretched, so utterly possessed by two men at once. But now she wanted some friction. She wanted to come. Shiloah clenched all her internal muscles as hard as she could. Both men moaned. Good! She wiggled her hips. Goa hissed, and Stan gasped. Then four hands grabbed her body and held her still. “Enough, you wanton. This will be over before it begins. I’m hanging on the edge here,” said Goa. “Precious, please. I want to last long enough to make this good for you, too.” Shiloah was pinned tightly by their bodies, one hard chest pressed into her back, the other flattened against her front. Four arms wrapped tightly around her. Legs gripped her thighs. She was surrounded by, encompassed by, hot, male skin. It felt awesome. She let herself relax between them and sighed with relief as they started a push-pull stroke. One thrust inside her as the other withdrew. Then they reversed, so she was continually being filled, never totally empty. Her body was hyperaware, screaming for release, as they kept up the smoking hot technique, constantly teasing her higher and higher. Desperately, she pressed her pelvis into Goa, rubbing her engorged clit against his skin. Then she pushed backward the tiny bit she could move, forcing Stan’s cock an extra fraction of inch deeper into her dark channel. Once again, she clenched her inner muscles with all her strength, jabbing her aching, needy nipples against Goa’s hard chest. Her fingernails dug deep into his shoulders as she held on, and the men picked up speed, slamming into her hard and fast. With relief, she felt the orgasm coiling in her belly burst through her, throwing her into a fierce spiral of clenching muscles, shaking limbs, and more muscle spasms as both the men exploded deep inside her, heightening her own response. Limply, she sagged between them. “Every time is better than the previous one,” she gasped. “Gods, yes,” replied Goa.
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Chapter Four Shiloah paced back and forward happily, measuring, sketching designs, and planting some markers for the ends of the garden beds. It hadn’t taken Orna and Shiloah very long to get the house organized the way they wanted it, and then they had spent several days working hard on their soaps as they had several large orders to fill, which would use most of their existing stock. But at the end of the week, their work was up to date and they decided to choose the area where they’d plant the new rose garden. They wanted it close to the house but not at the front or sides where it could be easily seen from the road. The backyard got a lot of sun, which roses thrive in, and with the river nearby, water would never be a problem. All they had to do was choose a large enough space for the number of bushes they intended to grow as some roses didn’t tolerate being with any other plants, although they did well with other roses. So the rose garden would be quite separate from other trees and shrubs. But while Shiloah measured contentedly, increasingly, Orna hunched her shoulders, looked around jumpily, and watched the hill that hid New Thimphu. “What’s wrong, Mama? Aren’t you excited about the new rose garden? We’ve wanted to extend our production for a long time. This garden will be ideal, and we can get someone else to help us if the work is too much for just the two of us.” “I can’t stop thinking something will spoil your happiness, just as my husbands were taken from me. Shiloah, we’ve been selling rose soaps and ointments in the store in Green Ridge for years. Someone
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could easily work out that you’re not a new person, but have been making these products for a long time. Then they’ll hunt until they find the community, and we’ll all be imprisoned and killed, just as your fathers were.” “But, Mama, no one knows it’s us who make the soaps. The company name is Fragrant Roses. We never use our personal names on any of the paperwork. That’s a community rule. Everything is done through the post office boxes. Every business is always anonymous. Only the IRS knows who owns the company, and we’ve always paid our taxes. George and Wang have never used our names, never used anyone’s names about the products in the store. All they ever say is it’s from the community, not even whether their contact is a man or woman. No one will know it’s us. Now that we live here, if anyone ever asks us, we can say we thought the roses were a wonderful idea and are seeing if we can grow them, too.” “How can we trust these people? Just because Dorji and Ngawang have been safe so far, that doesn’t mean they’ll continue to be safe or that you will be protected. I’m worried, Shiloah. I couldn’t bear it if Goa and Songstan were torn from you as Bhuwan and Tshering were taken from me.” Orna burst into tears and ran into the house. Shiloah stood in the yard, stunned. Her mama never ever used her husbands’ names. Never. She’d also used George’s, Wang’s, and Stan’s proper names, too. Which showed she was dreadfully upset. “I need to talk to Father Yeshe. But first, I’ll make Mama a soothing cup of rose hip tea.” **** Shiloah invited the monk to join them for supper, and his gentle, calm, good sense seemed to make Orna feel more relaxed about the situation. They all had a good time eating and talking, catching up on the news of mutual friends and sharing anecdotes about the days when the community was first settled. Shiloah felt her worry about her
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mama slide from her shoulders under the grace and wisdom of the old man. Later that night, she woke up feeling cool. Usually, she was warm in bed with a man pressed on each side of her. But this night, they’d both rolled slightly away from her, so she sat up to pull the burgundy blanket over herself. A tiny sound pierced the silence, and she sat still, listening. There it was again, just a faint whimper. Shiloah crawled down the big bed to the foot then climbed out, not wanting to wake either man. Her long nightshirt was sitting on the chair where one of the men had thrown it when they’d undressed her, so she pulled it over her head and padded barefoot out of the room and down the hallway. The bedroom next to hers had two single beds in it and closets where the men had stored some of their possessions. Traditionally, the main bedroom always belonged to the woman. She was free to refuse her men, so they always had another room where they could sleep when she wanted privacy. Beyond that room was another bathroom, then the large corner room that was Orna’s. Shiloah waited outside her mama’s bedroom door. Orna’s sobs were muffled, but to hear her mama crying almost broke Shiloah’s heart. She flung open the door and ran to her mama, pulling her into her arms and hugging her. “Oh, Mama, please don’t cry. If it upsets you so much, we can stay inside, never go out, not grow roses, give up the business. Anything is better than you being so sad. Please, Mama, please don’t weep.” Shiloah hugged her mama to her as if she was the mother and Orna the hurt child. And Shiloah knew her mother was hurt, that the loss of her husbands had been a terrible trauma for her made worse by having them come home so broken in health and spirits, only to watch them die. She felt the solid presence of Goa and Stan standing behind her, their big hands resting on her shoulders.
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“Orna, if being here is too hard for you, too painful for you, we’ll give up the farm and move back into the community. We’ll tell Sompel we’d rather stay inside and work at whatever jobs are available. You’re our responsibility now, Orna, and it’s important to us that you’re free to be happy. We can meet with Sompel tomorrow and arrange to move back underground. You and Shiloah can return first thing tomorrow. We’ll find someone you can stay with until Stan and I can move everything back,” said Goa. Orna raised red, puffy, tear-drenched eyes to Stan and Goa. “But– But… But being here was your greatest wish. You were both so excited to be farming again.” “That’s true. But if our family isn’t happy, it’s not worth it. You are part of our family now, and your happiness is very important to us.” “Father Yeshe explained that my fears are unreasonable, but I still worry. I keep remembering what the people said and did to Bhuwan and Tshering. How they said our way of life was evil and depraved and that they weren’t real men because they shared a woman. How can it be right for women to share a man yet wrong for men to share a woman? That doesn’t make sense!” “Angry people don’t always think logically, Orna.” Stan sat beside her on the bed and gently stroked her hair. “Our way of life encourages stability and prosperity. When there are several husbands, a woman is always supported. When one man is busy at work or on the farm, another husband can attend to her needs and be available to help her. When there are children, there are more parents to help care for them. No son is dispossessed and homeless. Angry people see only our wealth and happiness and never look beneath these things to the fact that it’s our way of life that ensures such good outcomes.” “The people of Green Ridge aren’t like the ones you knew, Mama. Ugyen has lived here all his long life, and no one ever spoke against him. George and Wang know the outside people and see them in the store each day, and no one complains about their lifestyle. Chevaunne
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takes her friends to eat at the little café in Green Ridge, and no one has ever been rude to her.” “Father Yeshe said there had never been complaints about New Thimphu from the locals. Admittedly, they don’t know everything about us, but they aren’t stupid. They know each of the above-ground families has more men than women living in the houses. Likely, some of them have never bothered to think about us or work it out, but others must have. They see us as a quiet, self-contained community, maybe a little different, but basically harmless,” added Goa. “Chevaunne said she wondered if some of the Green Ridge people thought we were a predominantly gay community with just a few married couples and families,” said Shiloah. “It doesn’t matter what they think or don’t think, the bottom line is there has never been prejudice or trouble. Nonetheless, if you aren’t happy, Orna, we will move back inside New Thimphu starting tomorrow,” said Goa. “No, don’t do that, I know how much this means to you all. I’m just a fearful old woman. Instead, tomorrow, I’ll go to the temple and spend time there meditating and speaking to my husbands. They will guide me and direct me, I know.” They sat in there in Orna’s bedroom in silence for a long time until Orna seemed quite calm. Finally Shiloah, Goa, and Stan returned to their room. But Shiloah slept very lightly after that, and each time she opened her eyes, she realized one or the other of the men was not in bed. She guessed they were keeping watch over Orna and was once again thrilled at how wonderfully caring they were. Tomorrow, they had another full day of work ahead of them. But instead of insisting on getting a good night’s rest, they were caring for her mama. Such wonderful, wonderful men. Her heart was almost bursting, it was so full of love for them both. ****
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Shiloah offered to accompany her mama to the temple, but Orna wanted to go alone. Shiloah just hoped she came back reconciled to the situation. She knew Goa and Stan were serious about moving back underground but also knew how very much they wanted this house and the farm and truly believed they were safe here. The community had a warning system installed so that the central security department in the administration building always knew if anyone approached any of the above-ground homes. Help would reach them in a matter of minutes if anything ever did go wrong, day or night. But the only people who had ever approached the houses had been locals on legitimate calls, strangers who were genuinely lost, or, on a few rare occasions, people who wanted to join the New Thimphu. In deference to her mama’s fears, Shiloah spent the day indoors working on their business, catching up with paperwork, and shipping. When the men came in for a midday meal, she said, “I think I should take Mama into Green Ridge with Anh, Chevaunne, and Kiri and have a girls’ day out shopping and lunching. I think if she sees the locals in a casual way, she may feel happier.” “You don’t think that may frighten her more?” asked Stan. “No, I think if she is with a group of us, she’ll feel safe.” “All right, suggest that to her then.” **** Orna seemed quite relaxed when she returned home that evening and liked the idea of a girls’ day out, so the following day they descended on the small township in a laughing, happy group. Anh seldom left the underground community as most of her spare time was spent with Honored Grandmother. But Kiri was known about town, and Chevaunne also had made friends. Both Kiri and Chevaunne made a point of introducing Shiloah and Orna as the new family on Ugyen’s farm, and many of the locals were pleased that the property
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would once more be producing crops. Several farmers wanted to talk planting and crops with them, so Shiloah was glad she’d paid some attention to the men’s discussions. Over lunch at Chevaunne’s favorite café, a couple of women came up to speak to them, including a woman who bought their soaps and loved their fragrances. Orna tensed when the soaps were mentioned, but it soon became obvious the woman had no idea where they came from or who made them. She just liked them and wanted to talk about them. Orna relaxed, and soon, she was having an in-depth discussion about various fragrances and even considering planting lavender and jasmine bushes on the farm. Shiloah enjoyed watching Kiri in George and Wang’s store. It was very evident how much she cared for the men and also what a great deal she knew about the stock and the entire business. Shiloah had never thought about it before, but Kiri was a born shopkeeper. She loved meeting people and talking to them, had a flair for style and layout, and was very fast with numbers. While she was giggling, her fingers were flying over the computer keys, and she always knew exactly what would suit a customer best. Surreptitiously, Shiloah watched George and Wang. It seemed that at last, Wang was looking at Kiri the way George did. Aha! It would be awesome if they started to feel about her the way Shiloah knew Kiri felt about them. Today’s trip may have been doubly beneficial, for Kiri as well as for Orna. **** That night, as the three were snuggling in bed, Shiloah told Goa and Stan about their day out. “I really believe Mama relaxed after she saw the people weren’t threatening. I think it was a good thing to do.” “That’s good, but if needs be, we’ll move back into the apartment.”
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“Thank you for that. I know how hard that’ll be for you. But I’m hopeful it won’t be necessary.” “Gods, Shiloah, we’d do anything for you. We love you,” said Goa, sliding on top of her and thrusting deep into her cunt. “It’s no coincidence I call you ‘precious.’ You’re the most precious thing I’ve ever known,” added Stan, his lips closing over a nipple and sucking it into his hot, wet mouth. They’d already made love that night, and she’d had two excellent orgasms, yet as soon as Goa began stroking deep inside her cunt in that calm, assured way of his, she felt another peak begin to coil deep inside her core. The tension inside her grew as her pussy creamed around Goa’s broad cock. He pumped in and out of her, gradually increasing the speed and power of his movements, the sexual tension inside her rising along with his efforts. Shiloah dug her fingers into the taut muscles of his ass, holding him to her, loving the power of his pistoning hips as he held his torso up off her body so Stan could kiss, lick, and lave her breasts. Stan was very much a breast man, she’d decided. He loved to suck not just the nipple, but the entire areola into his mouth. He palmed one breast as he sucked the flesh of the other, his fingers tweaking one nipple and massaging the underside of one globe as his mouth teased and tormented the other. Goa increased his pace again. Now he was pounding into her, and she was gasping with the need to come. Goa slammed deep and hard. His cock rammed the edge of her cervix, and she shattered, the intense pleasure/pain driving her over the cliff and into release. As her pussy gripped his cock, she felt Goa’s hot seed spurting deep inside her. He stroked a few more times, but without his usual methodical rhythm, then rested his head beside her on the bed. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, too. Both of you,” she replied breathlessly. Goa pulled out of her and lay beside her, turning her head to him and kissing her mouth with sweet gentleness.
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Shiloah pulled him into her arms to hug then turned to kiss Stan. “Are you sore?” he asked. Shiloah saw his cock, huge and red, with that cute slight curve, and smiled. “Please, love me, too.” A broad grin broke across his face, and Stan slid up the bed to kiss her, then down again to grab her legs. He rested the sole of each foot on his shoulder then pressed into her, bending her knees back and back until they were almost touching her own shoulders, while the soles of her feet remained on his shoulders. This position gave him the ability to penetrate her very deeply, and the bend in his shaft meant his cockhead dragged along her walls, arousing her again instantly. After so many orgasms, she should have been sore, her muscles aching, but she was so ready for him she knew she’d climax again, and soon. Stan rested his hands on her breasts, his fingers automatically playing with her nipples. Goa leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue sliding into her mouth, mimicking Stan’s cock before teasing around her teeth, across the roof of her mouth, and along the insides of her cheeks. Shiloah gasped in a breath. Already her nerve endings were on fire again. Her clit was hot and hard. When Stan pulled right back, he deliberately stroked his cock over her G-spot, almost making her cry out with arousal. She was close, so very close, to coming again. Amazing! Stan grinned at her, and very intentionally, did it again. At the same time, he pinched both her nipples. With a scream, Shiloah shattered, the climax racing through her from her cunt and her breasts simultaneously. Stan moved his hands to her hips to hold her as he powered into her once, twice, three times, before he blasted his seed into her. Goa leaned over her body and gently sucked her nipples then kissed her softly on the forehead. “Rest now, my love. Everything will work out for the best.”
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**** Stan and Goa stood beside Grandfather Ugyen, who stared across the fields to the rice paddy. Small green shoots were visible under the water, and if they watched carefully, they could see tiny fish darting among them. He nodded at the men. They remained silent as he turned to the rose garden where Orna and Shiloah were tying the stems back to a trellis. This time he smiled. “You have done well, my grandsons. I wasn’t brave enough to be the sole husband of a woman, and there was no other only son I wanted to share my home and a wife with. It was the right decision, but I was resigned to a long and lonely life. Now I have been blessed with a family once again. No man could ask for sturdier grandsons or a prettier granddaughter. Even Orna has bloomed once more into a beautiful woman I rejoice to call my daughter. I’m proud of the way you’ve brought this house and land to life once again. Now, tell me all about your plans for the south field.” Stan could see the love, joy, happiness, and peace in the old man’s eyes. His own heart was full of gratitude, too. They were a family. Life was very good. No man could ask for more.
THE END HTTP://BERENGARIASBLOG.BLOGSPOT.COM/ HTTP://BERENGARIABROWN.WEBS.COM/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR Berengaria is a multi-published author of erotic romance: contemporary, paranormal (ghosts, vampires, fairies and werewolves) and Regency-set historical. She loves to read all different kinds of romance so that is what she writes: one man/one woman; two women; two men; two men/one woman; three men, two women/one man…. Whatever the characters need for their very hot happily-ever-after, Berengaria makes sure they get it.
Also by Berengaria Brown Ménage Amour: Forever Yours 1: Intensity Ménage Amour: Forever Yours 2: Complexity Ménage Amour: Forever Yours 3: Eternity Ménage Amour: Possessive Passions 1: Shared Possession Ménage and More: Vivienne’s Vacation Ménage Amour: Tempting Tenealle
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Siren Publishing, Inc. www.SirenPublishing.com
