Barefoot Bride for Three

by Barefoot Bride for Three (lit)

  She gasped and stared.

  One giant bed covered the floor except for narrow passages under the side eaves. She strained her head and looked again. Not one but three wide bed frames had their legs lashed together to create one huge surface. Each mattress had a clean white sheet tucked in all around. Four plump pillows rested against the wall. A matching number of faded quilts waited for night’s chill. With three male furnaces burning, would she need quilts, even in January?

  They’d placed her dressing table on the east wall. She’d never seen the cream and pink flowered wash bowl and matching water pitcher before. It must be for her personal use as she couldn’t see the men touching that color. The silver-backed brush Trace loved to use on her lay next to a folded towel.

  A series of carved pegs set in a board at her shoulder height held her dresses. A sea chest padded with a quilt provided a seat. A folded screen of woven grasses cut across the south corner. She sighed in relief. Even with one husband, a woman may want to change or do what was necessary without male eyes watching every move. Three pairs of them would be too much.

  The room was to be shared, all right. Pegs set in a zigzag pattern held shirts and pants she recognized, having washed them often enough.

  Simon and Jack must have moved the furniture in while she and Trace went up the mountain, but when had they scrubbed the floors and walls? It must have been when she and Trace visited Prudence and Gillis MacDougal the other week. She’d either been home or with two or more of them the rest of the time.

  In this room, Trace, Simon, and Jack had made a family nest. They wanted her to sleep with them, to share the midnight murmurings that brought loving adults close together. Their time together at the waterfall was a gift, a few short hours to remember, like a honeymoon before returning to care for the whole family.

  Trace understood. She wasn’t just his wife. She was the woman they wanted to share their lives. She inhaled to feel the blood rushing through her pounding heart. She pressed her hand to her chest but it didn’t ease her agitation. It wasn’t love, but it was far more than she’d expected.

  She’d stepped onto the Bride Train in Philadelphia determined to make it on her own. Weeks later, she stepped off in Dillon, her illusions shattered. Passing through Bannack City only strengthened her resolve not to give in and accept husbandly dregs. That first night, Trace showed her some of the advantages of marriage when all she’d known were negatives.

  The twins soon engulfed her with their humor, passion, and determination. Yet, as Trace’s wife, she’d not felt a full part of the Rocking E. Knowing all three wanted her womanly comfort eased her heart. Not love, but affection and caring. More than most wives ever had.

  “We kept the bed downstairs for you in case you’re feeling poorly,” said Simon.

  “If Sy snores, we’ll ship him off to sleep with Tony and Cleo in the barn,” said Jack.

  “I don’t snore. And you’d better keep your ass tight and not let ’em rip after you’ve been into the beans.”

  She bit her lip to stop smiling. By building this room with one large bed, Trace said she belonged to all of them. Giving her a bed of her own elsewhere let her have privacy if she wanted it. That would be the bed she used to bring the next generation into the world. She did not want anyone else to see this room unless they, too, shared their men. If Amelia arrived and, God forbid, Pru died, there’d be two wives living with the same set of values, ones suited to the far western part of Montana Territory. The Bride Train may bring others, women who would understand how joy shared, was multiplied.

  She pressed both hands over her face to stifle a hysterical giggle as the twins argued behind her. She’d never known siblings could be so ornery yet still care about each other. It was one of the things she loved about them. Honest and open, full of loud criticism, and quiet praise.

  “Me? Dammit, Sy, you’re the one who damn near crisped his butt setting fire to your stink.”

  “You said we’d be like dragons, only shooting backwards.”

  She tried to stop her shoulders shaking, but it was no good.

  “You like it, sweetheart?”

  She blinked rapidly, but a few tears spilled over her fingers.

  “Dang it, Jack,” said Trace. “Look at her shake. You’re making her cry!”

  She turned around to face them, her hands covering her cheeks. Trace was the first to notice her happy tears. His shoulders relaxed and he winked. Simon and Jack continued to argue with each other until Trace loudly cleared his throat. They turned to her.

  She slid her palms over her cheeks, letting them see her smile.

  “She likes it?”

  She nodded. “Now I can hug all of you, all night if I want.”

  “You know, these mattresses are fresh,” said Jack. He sent her his best leer. “They haven’t been tried out yet. You must be tired after all that riding. Maybe you should lie down.”

  “I had a nap before supper.”

  “Then you won’t mind staying awake for a bit,” said Simon.

  “Try it out,” said Trace.

  She could feel their puppy-like eagerness for her praise. She strolled forward. The floor had been well scrubbed. After years of boots, the boards were smooth under her bare feet. She tentatively settled on the edge of the bed at the far right.

  “Seems sturdy,” she said. Her words drew all three men toward her like a magnet. She stood on the mattress, her head above them for once. “It’s a bit big for just me.” She took a step back each time they moved forward. None of the men wore shoes or socks. They’d unbuttoned their shirts when she wasn’t looking.

  “Want some company?” said Trace. He shrugged his shoulders and his shirt slid to the floor.

  “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your plans for the evening. Weren’t you in the middle of a checkers challenge with Jack? You’d each won two games in the best three out of five.”

  “Checkers?” Jack’s shirt fell to the floor. “Why play a child’s game when there’s a bed to rumple?”

  “We could put the board on her belly. See who can concentrate,” suggested Simon.

  Beth jumped when Jack’s belt landed on the floor with a thunk. “What’s the prize?” he asked. He scratched the hair below his belly button. His fingers drew Beth’s eyes. She knew what waited behind that denim.

  “I say the lady’s the prize,” replied Simon. He shucked his pants. His long cock aimed at her. He nonchalantly grasped it and slowly pumped, forward and back, as it grew.

  “Nobody move,” growled Trace. He strode across the room and down the stairs.

  Beth, body heating under her clothing, looked from one eager man to the other. Jack tossed his pants aside, and then two men aimed their naked intentions at her. As ordered, no one took a step closer until Trace returned, checkers box in his hand. He set it on the sea chest and quickly stripped.

  “Who’s black?”

  “I won the last game,” said Simon.

  “So I go first,” said Jack. “Who gets to help our table get naked? Me and Sy did all the work setting it up, so I think we should. I’ll take west.”

  Jack circled the bed and climbed up on her right side. Simon did the same to her left. Trace sauntered forward to the foot of the bed. He stood with feet apart, shoulders set, and arms crossed. His dark nest of hair sprouted a massive handle. If she needed help climbing down from the bed, he wouldn’t have to offer his arm. His third leg looked sturdy enough.

  Jack, ever the rake, picked up her right hand and bent over. He kissed her knuckles as if they met in a city soiree and she wore white gloves past her elbows. Instead, he turned over her hand and kissed the calluses already growing on her work-roughened hands.

  Simon picked up her left hand and, wasting no time, flicked a wrist button open. He turned her hand over and grazed the sensitive spot under her cuff, right where her palm ended. She stood, arms out as if in benediction until they finished with her sleeves.

  “I’ll start at the top buttons,” said
Simon.

  Before Jack could react, he brushed a knuckle over her cheek and tilted her chin up. His shoulder brushed her swelling breast as his fingers worked to free her throat. Jack sank to his knees in front of her. He tugged her blouse out of her waistband. He’d unbuttoned past her belly before Simon passed her breasts.

  They raced to reach the last and flung her blouse behind her. Instead of cooling from removing the confining fabric, heat rushed through her, filling her tight breasts. A set of soft lips suckled each one. She reached behind to brace herself against the wall, closing her eyes to the sensation. She shivered when fingers trailed down her belly to her skirt. Someone undid the few skirt buttons and it dropped to her feet.

  They helped her to lie on her back across the bed. Trace set the checkers board so one edge grazed her breasts and the other rested on her hip bones. He set up the pieces, black for Jack and red for Simon. They sat with crossed ankles on each side of her. The board, wider than she, hid their fingers when they caressed her from her ribs to hips. She twitched at the tickle.

  “Hands to yourselves,” said Trace. He lifted her head on a pillow and settled there, his knees framing her ears. Smiling down at her, he began pulling out her pins and releasing her hair. He combed it with his fingers, draping it over the pillow and around him.

  She relaxed, the center of their attention. For once the twins played in silence rather than tormenting each other. When she first arrived, she thought they behaved like giant undisciplined children. Once she’d shared herself with them and the initial tension was gone, she realized it was their belligerent male way of showing they cared about each other. Trace would grouse and they’d give back just as strong. She’d learned to read their bodies and tone of voice rather than the words they threw around.

  Though a huge man played with her hair and two more snuggled tight against her sides, she was the most relaxed of them. Checkers was just a game to her. It didn’t matter who kissed her first as soon all four of them would be participating. But to the twins, everything was a contest. Perhaps now that they would share a bed all night, they would feel more secure.

  Jack hopped three of Simon’s pieces, the sound loud on the wooden board. Simon hissed a curse and Jack snorted a laugh. She smiled up at Trace. He lifted his eyebrows in question. She mouthed I’m happy to him. He tugged gently on her hair to show he understood.

  The board tickled the underside of her breasts, making her quiver. Jack, halfway through a move with one hand lifted, stared at her trembling flesh. A snort from Simon and he completed his move. Simon immediately snapped up two of the black disks and tossed them aside. He tapped the board for Jack to “king” him.

  “Whose side you on?” said Jack.

  “Mine,” Beth replied. “The board is getting a bit heavy.”

  Jack and Simon looked at each other. As far as Beth could tell, no words were spoken. But both hooted at the same time. One swept the checkers wide while the other lifted the board and tossed it toward the foot of the bed.

  “Heads,” said Jack.

  “Tails,” replied Simon.

  Jack rose to his knees. He leaned over her and, with an enormous sigh, settled his lips over her left nipple. Simon bent her knees and pressed them apart. He encouraged her to lift her bottom and pushed a pillow under. He lay on his stomach between her thighs. He gently kissed the inside of her thigh, then slid his tongue between her pussy lips.

  Beth arched her back. She thrust her breasts toward Jack and tilted herself toward Simon.

  “Heads and tails,” whispered Trace. “Either way, you win.”

  * * * *

  Trace shifted to the side not occupied by Jack and lay down, resting his head on his fist. Eyes closed and mouth wide, Beth gasped as Jack and Simon tried to outdo each other in driving her wild. With room to spread out, they could finally treat her right. While he’d enjoyed having Beth to himself, a part of him knew it wasn’t right. They’d never say anything, but his brothers needed to hold Beth tight in the night just as much as he.

  Before he’d given up on finding a wife, he’d thought one would be a convenience. He’d get meals, a clean house and clothes, and sex. In return he’d have to put up with a female clinging to him. He wasn’t sure why he thought that, since Ma clung to no one. Maybe it was the married women he saw in town, Bannack City, or Dillon. They’d swish past him in their fancy dresses, making sure a big, dirty brute like him never came close.

  The first time he saw Beth, going nose to nose with Charlie, he’d realized she was not like the town women. Good thing, too. She inhaled a gasp, trembled and moaned. Simon and Jack looked up, grinned at each other and went back to pleasuring her.

  Their woman.

  Did his seed grow within her already? She had never turned him away for her woman time and there’d not been one night when they slept apart. A tight band shot around his chest. He sat up, fighting to breathe.

  A father? Him?

  He rubbed his front, knuckles pressing against the bone between his chest muscles. The pain eased, melting like snow in a winter chinook.

  Maybe.

  Trace, the oldest and ugliest of the Elliott brothers, might have a wife swelling with his babe. Did she know? He looked down at her, writhing under the fingers, tongues, and mouths of his twin little brothers.

  “Oh, yes!”

  She bucked and trembled, her skin glowing with sweat. When her storm began to ease, Jack rolled onto his back, full mast high. Sy lifted Beth, gently guiding her to settle around Jack. He caressed her breasts, rasping her nipples and making her moan. Simon brought over the sweet lard they’d prepared earlier and settled behind her. Jack encouraged her to shift forward, kissing her deep.

  Trace moved to the side to watch Simon, making sure he was careful with Beth. As Jack was thick, it was best that Sy, more narrow and long, enter her ass. He watched her tight little asshole clench around Sy’s fingers as he greased her up. The minx pushed back against him, demanding more. Trace joined in, playing with her sopping clit. Her need and moans grew. Simon slathered his cock well and rose to his knees. He splayed his hands and pressed her cheeks apart. Her little brown anus grew an inside pink ring as she relaxed for him.

  Trace double-fingered her clit, twitching his fingers between her belly and Jack’s. Sy guided his cock to her ass and pressed. She pushed back and he slid an inch, just inside her ring. He nodded to Jack, who encouraged Beth to slide down his cock and take him deep. Trace moved aside to watch Jack’s thick cock disappear inside her. She then rose as Simon pumped slow and deep.

  Cocks moved in and out as Beth slid forward on Jack and back on Sy. They sped up, Simon going deeper, faster. Beth, belly to Jack, scraped her clit on him with each stroke. Sy’s balls slapped against her lips with every forward stroke.

  Trace’s cock tried to stiffen enough to join the fun, but he’d damn near killed himself earlier at the waterfall so he relaxed and watched the twins drive Beth wild. She tossed her head and her hair flew, striking Jack’s face and chest when Simon slammed into her.

  None of them noticed him watching. Sy’s eyes were fixed on Beth’s ass. Jack, hands guiding Beth’s hips, stared at her face and breasts. Beth’s eyes were jammed shut as she took whatever she wanted from his brothers.

  Something triggered the explosion. Beth gasped and ground herself onto Jack with all her weight. Simon yelled something and slammed once more into her before his rhythm broke down and he quaked like he was having a fit. Just as Simon finished, Jack erupted, lifting and dropping Beth onto him, Sy attached, until he, too groaned. Beth collapsed over him, Simon lying over her like a sopping blanket.

  Sy held Beth and rolled sideway, taking her, and Jack with him.

  Instead of being excluded, Trace felt he was part of the action. After tonight, Beth would need some time to recover. He’d never thought that one naked woman falling asleep on his chest would do more for him than a bed full of lively whores. Not that he’d ever had such a thing, nor did he want to anymore.
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br />   He slipped down to the kitchen to get the kettle, still warm from the stove. He brought an old towel with him, tossing it to an exhausted Simon when he pulled out. He filled the ewer and wet the soft cloth the boys put out earlier. Gently, he bathed the sweat off Beth’s back and bottom. She murmured when he lifted her off Jack and laid her on her back. More warm water tidied up her top side.

  She had a silly little girl smile, one that he cherished. It meant she was so far beyond caring about things, that all she knew was pleasure.

  He set her in the center of the bed and covered her with a soft quilt. She curled on her side, still smiling. Jack quirked an eyebrow at him but he shook his head. The boys had earned it. They’d sleep on either side of Beth tonight.

  Sy curled up behind her, cupping her upper breast in his hand. He shuddered a sigh and relaxed. How long had it been since his middle brother had felt so content?

  Jack, still the ladies’ man, faced toward Beth. He settled farther down in the bed, his lips almost touching her breasts.

  Though they were warm now, it would soon get cooler. Trace covered each man with a quilt. He looked at them for a moment and then trod down the stairs, shaking his head. Huh! Imagine him, tucking up his little brothers after they drove his hot wife wild.

  He threw on a pair of boots and headed out to the barn. He felt like his skin was too tight or something. He absently rubbed his chest. The pull to return to their bed was too strong. He couldn’t let a physical need dominate his decisions. Beth was a good wife, and she’d make a good mother. She’d changed their lives for the better, but he didn’t need her more than life.

  Not like his father needed his mother. Never like that.

  Beth was a damned fine convenience, one he’d cherish. But that was all.

  The dogs greeted him with joyous tail wags. Sailor raised a sleepy head as if to ask what the hell he was doing in the barn at this hour.