Cries of Penance (32 page)

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

day. I never thought I’d say it, but I like being a mommy, I don’t think I need a nanny. That doesn’t mean that I want to stop being Kitten completely, or that help with the housework wouldn’t be appreciated, it just means that I want to find a balance and none of us had balanced lives in San Francisco.”

“I did.”

“That’s because you’re Superman, you have al those crazy special powers and you don’t require sleep.”

“So not true.” He tickles me, making me laugh. “I need sleep.”

I sigh heavily, snuggling against him.

“What’s bothering you most?”

“Explaining us—three adults and six kids under one roof—we’re gonna need a damn good cover story.”

“It’l be easier than you think.”

I push my nose into his chest, smel ing him, and need rol s through me. “I wish I wasn’t sore, I want you so bad.”

“Did you tear?”

“I don’t think so, just cramps, lots of blood.”

“You like pain and blood isn’t going to scare me.” Thomas pushes open the front of my robe and lowers his mouth to my breast. “Besides, I want a share of my sons’ bounty.”

As his mouth closes over my nipple, I bite my lip and stare up at the stars.

God is watching. “Doesn’t this just seem obscenely wrong to you?”

He shakes his head, tugging my flesh with the movement.

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I want him. Now . I arch my back, pressing my breasts up. He sucks on my nipples, drawing hard. Heat and a tingling sensation flushes down my breasts.

Milk starts to flow freely from the breast he isn’t sucking on. “Oh! Fuck.”

“Relax.” He keeps pul ing, sucking on my nipple, and the gown on the other side soaks through. Pushing my breasts together. He sucks both nipples at the same time. My uterus starts to cramp, but it cramps in waves along with the sucking, and isn’t a bad thing at al . It feels amazingly good. It happened earlier, when I was nursing the twins, but I couldn’t admit I felt horny as a result of feeding my babies. That seemed so wrong. This doesn’t seem any more right.

Thomas raises up and kisses me, fil ing my mouth with warm milk. I swal ow, feeling disgusted, and turned on, and confused al at the same time. “Thomas!”

“Everything you’re feeling is natural. Enjoy this. This is what it feels like to be a sensual woman. This is what it feels like to be a mother.”

“Holy crap.”

“Women should share these secrets. Pregnancy and childbirth and nursing are al wondrously erotic parts of being female. Don’t fight the arousal flowing through your veins, embrace it.”

I kiss him, sliding my tongue into his mouth, tasting my milk. My pussy tightens with need.

He tugs down the blanket and pushes up my caftan to massage my bare thighs. I’m wearing underwear and one of Atso’s diapers to catch my flow since I didn’t come prepared with any feminine products. So not sexy. I’m embarrassed.

“Don’t look.”

“You’re joking, right?”

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He slides his hands up my thighs and over my pelvis, pushing down on my tender uterus. I cry out, I can’t help it. “You like that? You like that pain?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“We can’t have sex, not for several weeks, risk of infection is too high, but we can play a little.”

I push my pelvis up against his palms. “God, I want you.”

“Sh-h, relax. Let’s go inside, get you comfortable. Anything we do is going to be messy.”

Thomas carries me inside. It’s barely lighter in than out. A single kerosene lamp burns in the corner. We find Garrett stretched out on the couch. I blush, realizing the door and al the windows are open. I’m sure he’s heard every word. I hold out my hand as Thomas carries me past the couch to the bedroom. Our fingertips barely contact but it seems electricity passes between us in that soft touch. Shaking his head, he stands up.

As Thomas lays me down on the bed and starts undressing, I hear Garrett locking up the house before fol owing us down the hal way.

Once inside the bedroom, Garrett closes the door. He brought the lamp with him, and I see that the babies are already here, tucked into the drawer on top of a low table. Seeing them is like a cold shower. What was I thinking?

Garrett echoes my thought. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it wil be weeks before you can safely have intercourse.”

Thomas rol s his eyes. “You think I’m going to fuck her the day after giving birth? I might be a sadist, but I’m not an idiot.”

“Then what?” Garrett demands.

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“We’re going to make love. You’re welcome to join us. I need to reconnect to the both of you. This week has been emotional y devastating for al of us. Can you honestly say you don’t want to blow off some steam?”

“I can’t have sex in front of the babies,” I say.

“They’re asleep. They’re safe. At two days old, they couldn’t care less.”

“I feel…bad…for even wanting to.” I catch Thomas’s face between my palms, making him meet my gaze as he sits down on the bed.

Leaning nearer, Thomas whispers against my face, “Embrace your emotions, sweetheart. Feel how high they can take you.”

“I’m trying.” I look at Garrett for censure, but as Thomas unhooks the front of my caftan, exposing my ful breasts, it isn’t judgment I see in his expression. He lowers the flame on the lamp so that only a soft glow lights the room and starts to undress.

Garrett lays down on the other side of me.

Thomas angles up on his elbow, so that he can look down at me. I feel like I stil look pregnant even though my stomach has shrunk greatly. He rubs my stomach gently, with soft teasing strokes, meant to arouse. Garrett cups and strokes the breast nearest him. I know he wants to suck my nipple, but the last conversation we had on the subject was fol owing Panda and Jako’s performance and I was adamantly against any such play.

I real y enjoyed Thomas sucking my breasts outside.

“You can suck my breast if you want to.”

Garrett smiles and whispers, “Thank you,” before lowering his mouth to my nipple. He sucks so softly, yet draws deeply. Need shoots down my spine to my 303

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core and I rock my hips. Thomas folds open the caftan the rest of the way. He slides down my panties, pul ing the diaper away.

I panic, beseeching him with my eyes. Even though we’ve had messy sex before when I was on a period, this is different. “We can’t. I’m bleeding. A lot.”

In answer he holds up a folded towel and slides it under my hips as he promises, “No intercourse.”

He lowers his mouth to my other nipple so that both men are nursing from my breasts. At the same time they slide their hands over my stomach, gently, teasing strokes meant to drive me mad. They both roam lower, finding my clit, massaging my slick labia lips. I try to not think about the blood, but neither one of them want me to ignore it. Thomas draws his wet fingers up my body, leading a dark trail.

I’m happy for the soft lighting. I couldn’t bare being under a spotlight.

Garrett too draws a path of blood between my thighs. He’s the realist. “If your flow gets too heavy, we quit. Right now, your arousal is helping your uterus to clear and shrink, so the slightly heavier flow is acceptable. If you were in the hospital a nurse would come in about every hour and push on your uterus for the same affect, but it wouldn’t be nearly as pleasurable.”

Nice to have a doctor in the house to explain things . My joy diminishes greatly. I don’t want to think! “Kiss each other.”

The two men kiss each other directly over my face. I stretch my neck so that my lips graze over Thomas’s stubble covered cheek, while they kiss. They turn their heads at the same time so that the three of us are kissing. Much better. This I like. I don’t know whose tongue is in my mouth or who is biting my lip. I slide my 304

Cries of Penance – Roxy Harte

tongue between both of them, tasting each one of them together, separately, again and again. “I want to suck on your cock.”

“You need to be more specific, love. We both have cocks,” Thomas answers sarcastical y.

He’s right. “I want to suck Garrett’s cock while you fuck him from behind.”

“That’s very specific.” Garrett chuckles and maneuvers into position straddling my shoulders and holding on to the headboard. He slides his dick into my mouth.

Thomas too maneuvers around and I know that he is taking a little extra time, massaging Garrett’s anus with his fingers, stretching him, opening him.

The room smel s musky.

I know when Thomas pushes his cock into Garrett’s ass, Garrett’s muscles tighten and his dick goes slightly softer. I bite down, pul ing against his stiffness with my teeth, making him grow harder again with my roughness.

Between the three of us, we manage a rhythm and as Garrett’s dick bumps against the back of my throat, it is pleasurable. Sometimes I think my uvula could orgasm if given half a chance. I don’t want this to stop—ever. I love being here, with them.

Garrett comes first, pul ing out so that his semen streams over my face.

Thomas fol ows close behind, his last few strokes stronger, more forceful as he realizes Garrett has pul ed out. Each thrust up Garrett’s ass forces a little more cum out of his dick. I try to catch the sweet liquid with my tongue. I love this. I love this.

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“Fear of danger is ten thousand times more terrifying than danger itself.”

Daniel Defoe, Robinson Crusoe

I awake alone in the bed and for a moment I can’t breathe I am so afraid, but then I hear Thomas’s older children playing outside and have to assume he is with them. They wouldn’t be laughing and playing if he’d disappeared in the night. Or at least I believe they’d be clinging to me if anything was wrong.

Strangely, I miss the weight of their bodies pressed around me and over me like a big puppy pile.

Atso’s shril squeal of delight comes through the open window and I am able to relax even more.

I wouldn’t let them play outside the courtyard, even though I was fairly certain there wasn’t another human being closer than a hundred miles. I wasn’t so sure about scorpions, rattlesnakes, or God knew what other deadly varmint, that might lie beyond the wal s.

A deeper voice comes through the window. Thomas. He doesn’t sound happy.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I push the wooden shutter closer to the wal and peek behind the white lace curtain. I can barely see Thomas, a shoulder.

Leaning back against the stone wal enclosure, he is facing the other direction.

Garrett comes into view, and I see his is holding one of the twins. “Be reasonable. I am more than capable.”

“It isn’t your ability I question. There is no necessity.”

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“I believe there is.”

Thomas pushes off the wal and as he walks he bounces. I stifle my laugh as I see his actions are keeping the other young son quiet. My breasts feel heavy already and just the thought of nursing the babies makes them tingle.

“You are not circumcising our sons.”

Circumcision? I cringe just thinking about my sons’ screams of pain.

“I forbid it.”

I grimace. If this was just a power struggle over our babies’ foreskins, that would be one thing, I real y don’t think flesh is what the argument’s about. This is loss of power, pure and simple. Thomas holds al the cards—where we wil live, who we wil become—and in some ways it doesn’t seem fair. I feel as lost and alone as Garrett. Wel , maybe not as alone as Garrett, he is after al the consummate showman and playboy, but I’m feeling alienated too. I can sympathize.

Very softly I hear Garrett say, “I’m circumcising the twins, Thomas. Like it or not.”

Pul ing on a big, flowing caftan robe, I run for the door.

By the time I reach the courtyard, both twins have been deposited into the wooden drawer and my two men are squaring off. I clear my throat. With dark, angry expressions they turn and look at me. I scrunch my face into the tightest, sternest look I can give. “You wil not quarrel in front of the children. If this is going to happen, take it into the desert.”

Looking over the wal to where the children are playing in the sand, I plaster a huge smile on my face and cal , “Breakfast!”

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The children come running inside. By now they know the routine. Hektor gets the bowls down from the cabinet and the cereal out of the pantry, Olympia measures powdered milk and water then shakes the container to mix it, Nikkos and Atso both reach simultaneously to be picked up. I heft one toddler on each hip, thinking they both gained ten pounds each in the last few days. That or pushing two babies out of my body real y did sap al my strength.

“Ommy, ommy.” Atso presses her palms to my cheeks and pushes, making my lips pucker so that when she presses her mouth to mine it is a kiss.

“Mommy,” I say. It seems important she learn to use English words since we don’t know where we are going and Arabic may cause unwanted notice. The idea wil be to blend in and not be noticed at al .

I don’t miss the look that passes between Hektor and Olympia. For a moment I fear I’ve overstepped my bounds so soon after their mother’s death. I feel horrible and fight emotion I hadn’t realized was brimming under the surface.

Feeling like I am in imminent threat of hyperventilating, I want to run into the bedroom and slam the door. I want to hide from this responsibility.

I can’t.

I am the mommy now.

Moving slowly and purposeful y, I put Nikkos into a highchair and watch Hektor and Olympia out of the corner of my eye. Hektor puts four bowls on the table and fil s them with cereal. Olympia pours the milk, putting very little into the bowl intended for Nikkos and no milk in Atso’s. When she is finished, I sit the bowl on Nikkos’s highchair tray.

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I sit in one of the chairs, holding Atso, and try to get her to take one of the banana flavored cornpuffs. She pats my cheeks. “Mommy.”