The Trouble with Three Husbands (Daughters of Venus 1)

The meeting was adjourned. As I headed out to go search for Connor who’d no doubt be soaked in sweat after playing soccer with the guys, I heard Samantha call out, “Don’t forget tonight’s show. The kids have been rehearsing for two weeks.”

The day was filled with the usual chores and as the sun began to set the whole town headed out to the gazebo at town center. I was looking forward to the night’s events. In our community, TVs were forbidden. We had electricity but it was decided that the drama of the real world wasn’t beneficial to our society. Plus, couch potato husbands were no good for anyone. So, the only real forms of entertainment we had were the book clubs, some sports, dances from time to time, and the plays the kids put on. Tonight’s show was going to be The Sound of Music.

Connor brought a blanket and a basket full of snacks. He draped the soft quilt over the ground beneath a tree and pulled me down between his legs. He always sat with me between his legs, leaned back against his chest. It was one of my favorite places to be. I had a hunk of a man behind me, the bulge of his jeans pressed against the small of my back, and I loved it. Life was perfect.

The show started and I did my best to pay attention from our shadowy spot on the lawn. My boys were in the play. Bentley was around somewhere helping out with the show. Alé was on patrol out at the town perimeter.

Connor was mine for the night.

“Have I mentioned lately that I breathe you?” he asked.

“You breathe me?”

“When I’m with you, each time I inhale I feel a part of you inside of me. My chest fills up and even with all that oxygen I feel like I’ll hyperventilate.”

He laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m sorry. I’m trying to be romantic and I sound stupid. Hyperventilate. Who uses that word to try and sweet talk a lady?”

And that added touch made it all the more romantic. The fact that even after all this time together he still got nervous and doubted himself. I might not ever get over that.

“I just meant,” he said. “You consume me. You’re everything. And if I didn’t have you…I might as well be at the bottom of the mountain.”

I leaned back and turned my head to meet his lips. And I felt his tongue enter my mouth. His sweet, wet tongue. I inhaled as we kissed, trying to feel for a second what he was talking about. I wanted to hyperventilate in his kiss. He pulled back.

“I want you,” he said.

And he did. His cock was getting hard against me. I reached back and grabbed it. I could feel the outline of his head beneath his jeans, so I cupped it, working my hand over it.

“You want me?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I am sixteen going on seventeen…

The play faded from my mind as Connor worked my mouth and my hand worked his cock. I don’t know how but my pussy seemed to have an insatiable appetite. I’d been with Bentley the night before, had him eating me earlier that morning, and already I was wet, my pussy begging to have Connor inside it.

“You want me right now?” I asked.

“Right fucking now.”

I felt bad leaving the kids during their show but I knew Bentley was watching and I’d been to two of their rehearsals and every other show they’d ever been in. Mommy needed a moment alone with one of their daddies.

“Take me to the barn,” I said.

We stood and Connor wrapped up the blanket and stuffed it in his basket. Neither of us said a word as he dragged me off to the shadows far from the stage and over to the barn where all the town’s chickens, cows, and horses were kept.

Inside was dark and Connor didn’t waste any time. He flipped on the light switch and the dull glow popped on overhead, not much brighter than lantern light. Connor turned and attacked me, spinning me around and shoving me up against the wall. This wasn’t romance. Not this time.

I could barely breathe as his tongue shoved its way into my mouth. It was violent. It was passionate. It was Connor’s way of reminding me I was his. He was the most jealous of my men.

“I hate seeing you with anyone else,” he said.

He undid his belt and yanked it off. I tore open his jeans.

We’d had this conversation many times since the night I made him my fellow. We’d talked about it over coffee and in the heat of passion.