Goldilocks and the Three Bear Brothers

by Pebbles Lacasse

  Chapter 11

  Back at the Bear residence, Mack and Patch are sitting on the sofa watching a car restoration program on television. Bash tells them how it went with my parents while I take a quick shower and slip into the same t-shirt I wore this morning at breakfast.

  Bash takes a shower and meets me in his bedroom. He takes the hairdryer from me and finishes drying my hair while running his fingers through it to keep it from getting too tangled. Our eyes meet now and then in the mirror.

  When his towel falls off, I reach for his lazy cock and palm it. He threatens to shut off the dryer, but I insist he finish, otherwise I’ll stop touching him. The second it’s dry, he shuts it off, setting it on the dresser.

  In a flash, he’s picked me up and tossed me onto the bed. I shriek and laugh like a high school girl on a carnival ride. We make love, our bodies moving in unison. How are we so perfectly matched, knowing how the other is going to move and moving accordingly? Maybe we were meant to be together all along.

  The house is quiet and our breathing has calmed. We’re lying in the darkness, entwined. His bedroom looks different as the moon casts dancing shadows from swaying trees. I feel at peace, like I belong here, like I’ve always belonged here.

  Bash kisses my head then whispers, “Are you tired or do you want to have some fun?”

  “We just had some fun. Didn’t we?”

  “Uh-huh! We certainly did but I’m thinking of a different kind of fun. How would you like to slip into Patch’s bed?”

  “You want me to make love to your brother?”

  “Not make love, no. But I want you to do what you want to do. Could you use a good hard fucking?”

  “And you didn’t just give me a good fucking?” I continue to tease him.

  “No, Goldie. We made love, we didn’t fuck. Patch fucks hard, emotionless and rather barbaric. As I recall, you really enjoyed how he fucked you over the log. If you want to sneak into his bed, I’m okay with that. Besides, it’ll be a great way for you to gain some control over him.”

  “How do you figure?”

  He snickers. “This morning he threatened that he was going to pick you up and take you to his bed. If you just go on your own and hop on him, he can’t say that he took you kicking and screaming.”

  “He wouldn’t take me if I were kicking and screaming. That would be against my will.”

  “Yes, but anything goes until you use your safe words.”

  “Uh huh, I see. You wouldn’t be upset at all if I go to his bed? Like, not even the tiniest little bit?”

  He looks at my face and brushes his thumb along my cheek while he cradles my face. “Goldie, I’ve loved you from the moment you first set your beautiful eyes on me and then smiled, making my knees weak. I’m pretty sure you love me, too. I know you’re coming back to me. He won’t have you forever. He and I are in no competition over your affections.”

  “I have a question.”

  “Ask me anything.”

  “If Patch or Mack get a girlfriend and you and I are a couple, will you go to bed with her?”

  “Would that bother you?”

  “If I like the woman, I don’t think so. You obviously adore me.” I grin conceitedly. “If I couldn’t stand her, I’d have an issue. Otherwise, do as you will to her. Just remember to come home to me, okay?”

  “Always! My heart will belong to you forever whether you choose to be with me or not. I’ve loved you from the moment I first saw you and nothing will change that.” He grins. “Would you ever be with a woman?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve thought about what that would be like. How about I get used to sleeping with three men before introducing yet another new adventure?”

  “There are so many adventures to be had,” he says with a loving kiss on my lips. In a whisper he suggests, “Now go ride my brother.”

  *** The End***

  About The Author

  Pebbles Lacasse writes tales of steamy romance. She loves taking the characters in her erotic novels on a rollercoaster ride of emotions as they explore their innermost thoughts and desires. She’s written books under several different genres and aliases, favouring romantic tales of BDSM erotica.

  Born and raised in southern Ontario, Pebbles never felt a need to stray too far. She still resides in the area with her husband of many years. Their two adult children have moved away to further their educations and careers. Being very family-oriented, their absence is greatly missed.

  She spends long hours in front of her computer or playing and training her Mastiff. Her indoor cat makes himself comfortable on the desk between her arms while she writes, hoping she’ll offer him a cuddle every now and then. Pebbles loves her family, her animals and the close friends that have stuck by her through good times and bad.

  Connect with Pebbles

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  https://www.pebbleslacasse.com

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  This book may not be reproduced in whole or in part without prior written permission from the copyright owner.

  This book is intended for adults only. Characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this book are made up by the author’s own imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to other characters, organizations, and events are purely coincidental.

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  Naughty Alice by Jennifer Johnson

  Chapter 1 - Alice’s Caretaker

  Alice pulled against the restraints that bound her, giving a grunt of frustration as her wrists met the cold metal. She didn’t remember how she had gotten there. A nurse opened the door as Charles sat by her bedside. Alice looked over at him, her wide blue eyes flashing a hint of emotion that only Charles could see. Her facial expression remained flat and devoid of affect as far as the nurse could tell but Charles knew Alice well and he could see that Alice was feeling disoriented and a bit scared.

  “Good afternoon,” the nurse said. She must have been new. Charles didn’t recognize her and he spent most days at the hospital as a caretaker for Alice and for other patients as well.

  “Good afternoon. I’m Charles, Alice’s caretaker. Her parents hired me to look after her. I don’t think we’ve met.” He extended his hand, and she shook it curtly.


  “I’m here to release Alice from her restraints,” the nurse turned from Charles and began to work on removing the restraints from her wrists and ankles. “Alice, do you know what day it is?”

  “I don’t know...” Alice sighed.

  Each day Alice would wake up just as confused as the one before. She was the girl that people would have considered merely odd if not for the fact that she was in a mental hospital. She had come in suffering from severe hallucinations and delusions when she was just sixteen-years-old. It had been a rough time for her at first but Charles had grown fond of her. He had taken to her and given her the special treatment that his training had frowned upon.

  Alice’s hospital room was mostly dark, with only a small lamp by the bedside turned on. It was a modest room, but they designed it for a long-term stay. The decor was plain, since how the room looked hardly mattered to Alice. She scarcely noticed the surrounding things. She was much too busy paying attention to what was going on inside of her head. It filled her with the blooming, buzzing curiosity of a child and it unfolded like a blanket inside of her own head. This is where she spent her time mentally picnicking while the real world went on without her.

  “She just woke up,” Charles apologized for Alice. The nurse was unphased by Charles’s comment and had already dismissed it the way she usually did with comments from her patients’ friends and family. She looked at the young girl, her blonde hair matted and disheveled from her struggle. The nurse felt a pang of sorrow and pity that such a young girl was not only in the hospital, but had behaved so severely that they had placed her in restraints.

  “Alice, do you know what day of the week it is?” the nurse asked as she scribbled down notes in Alice’s chart. It was a thick chart by now after two long, grueling years in the inpatient ward. The nurse noted Alice’s apathy, the way she stared right through people instead of looking into their eyes.

  “Wednesday?” she guessed, shrugging a bit to indicate that she didn’t really know.

  “It’s Monday,” the nurse sighed. “You poor dear.” The nurse unfastened the restraints that had bound Alice to her bed. She noted Alice’s blank stare and her lack of awareness of time and place in the girl’s chart before she gave Alice a final once-over with her eyes.

  “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours, Alice,” the nurse told her and then she turned to Charles, “you should make sure she gets a bath and has her hair combed.”

  “Of course, I will. Thank you, nurse,” Charles said with the formality and politeness that had always impressed Alice. Alice thought it was rather rude of the nurse to tell Charles how to take care of her. He had been her primary caretaker for many years now and she thought he did an excellent job. She felt as if she was important to him. She had always admired Charles for his ability to be polite and respectful with all the people he encountered.

  “Thank you, nurse,” Alice called as the nurse left her room. She was shivering, so Charles grabbed a blanket from the foot of her bed and pulled it up over her. She gripped it, stretching it over her tiny, frail body. She looked at him but he could not interpret the meaning behind her eyes. She had changed recently, grown up into a woman. Her face had elongated from its childlike roundness and her breasts had grown quite a bit in the past six months.

  Alice was special to Charles; there was no denying that. There was something about the brightness of her smile that made him feel weak inside. She was kind, gentle, and polite to others, especially him. Most girls would have complained about the things she had to endure while she was in the hospital, but Alice possessed a strength he had never seen in a woman. She hadn’t even complained about having to sit in restraints for hours at a time. She accepted her fate and her illness with grace and dignity that most women couldn’t muster. It also didn’t hurt that she was beautiful. The kind of beauty that made Charles stare at her for hours as she slept.

  Alice was also full of imagination and whimsy, which Charles found fascinating. She often spoke of the things she saw in her visions of a place called Wonderland as if they were real. Charles would sit and listen, drawing doodles on his notepad as he took in her perspective. She had such a vivid imagination and hearing her describe the things she saw in her head made him very happy. Charles wished that her world really existed. He would have liked to go there.

  Wonderland was also a place where he and Alice could truly be together the way that he had always dreamed they would be. He imagined them both exploring Wonderland and sharing the adventures that she always described to him when she had come back from a visit there. He wanted to give her more adventures, and he did the best he could to give her that from her bedside.

  The hospital was such a dark, drab place filled with worry, delusions, and endless shots of drugs that only seemed to push Alice further into her own head and away from Charles. She faded in and out of sleep on most days and Charles wondered if she would ever have a life that was her own, one doctors, nurses, and drugs didn’t control. It was no wonder she liked to retreat into the recesses of her mind. Wonderland provided an escape from the darkness of this place.

  Charles grabbed Alice’s brush from the nearby dresser and moved to the edge of her bed. Wordlessly, she turned to give him better access to her hair. He slowly and patiently brushed the myriad of tangles with the expert precision of a man who had done so hundreds of times. Alice sat up in her bed a little taller, her blonde hair now falling in luscious waves that reached past her shoulders. Charles reached for Alice’s favorite thin, black headband and placed it lovingly where it belonged at the crown of her head.

  “Thank you, Charles,” Alice said lovingly.

  “You are quite welcome, Alice.”

  “I had an amazing time in Wonderland this time! Can I tell you about it?” she asked, although she didn’t wait for him to answer to continue with her animated description of every last detail she had experienced.

  He was happy that he had procured a private room for Alice in this hospital. He had some influence since he had been working there as a caretaker for many years before she arrived. She was finally wide-awake, sitting cross-legged on her hospital bed, talking animatedly about her last adventure in Wonderland. She wore no makeup but none of the women in the hospital did. She was still pretty without it.

  “When is the last time you went to Wonderland?” he asked.

  “Charles! I told you I just got back,” Alice explained. “We picked rocking-horse-flies off of the flowers!” She smiled with delight. “They are so cute! Each one is a tiny rocking horse with wings!”

  Charles frowned. He pushed a bit of his slightly curly, flyaway hair away from his face so he could concentrate on Alice as she spoke. His dark eyes focused on her delicate features. Her slightly upturned nose was quite adorable and her plump lips went perfectly with her wide, blue eyes. It was a shame she wasn’t getting better. In fact, she seemed to get worse and there was nothing he could think of to do. He was just a caretaker. He wasn’t a doctor. He didn’t know what to do for her and so he tried his best to make her comfortable as he listened to her crazy ranting.

  “Alice, how do you explain the fact that you’ve been here in this hospital for the last two years? How could you possibly go to see the rocking-horse-flies if you’ve been here the whole time?” He searched her sparkling, blue eyes, and she smiled at him and gave him a look that told him she thought he was stupid or incompetent.

  “I’m telling you! I’m not always here! A white rabbit sneaks me out of here most nights and takes me to Wonderland so I can visit all of my friends!”

  She sounded so sure of herself and it made him sad to realize that this girl was so mentally ill she could no longer discern the difference between reality and make-believe.

  “I believe you, Alice.”

  He tried to be convincing, but she saw through his bullshit rather easily. She was the kind of woman he was attracted to, able to discern how he was truly feeling about things without him having to tell her. Her blonde hair was lo
ng and luscious and her youthful skin glowed from within. She was of average height for a woman and had a nice body from what Charles had seen. She usually wore clothes in various shades of blue, her favorite color. She liked to read and so he brought her plenty of books.

  “You don’t believe me. I can tell. You’re lying, Charles!” She threw her hands in the air in frustration and then slapped both hands against her thighs before folding them angrily in her lap. She hunched over, staring down at her hands as she folded and unfolded her fingers. She always did this when she was mad. She wouldn’t look him in the eyes either.

  “I certainly am not!” he answered in a huff. She read him so well. She was mentally ill and could still read him like a book.

  “You are, but it’s okay. I understand. I suppose I wouldn’t believe me either if I were you. You think I’m crazy.” Her frustration and anger melted into sadness. She hung her head and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Well, I think you are mentally ill and getting treatment.”

  “Or maybe I’m normal and it’s everyone else that is delusional.” She pondered this, her eyes turned slightly upward in thought.

  “That could be it, Alice.” Charles attempted to smile but Alice could easily sense the falsity.

  “Don’t patronize me, Charles. Do you have any stories for me today?”

  Alice was hopeful, her eyes growing wider and her hands pressed together. Her light blue dress highlighted her tiny waist. She still insisted on wearing dresses, even though she could have worn pajamas every day. Charles took notice of her curves as he fumbled through his satchel and pulled out the books he’d brought for her. She grabbed them greedily and sighed with contentment as she read the titles.

  “Thank you! Oh my, this one is about something naughty, isn’t it?” Her eyes darted away from Charles as she tried to hide her embarrassment. She looked down at the book, willing herself to act normal. “Thank you for smuggling this in for me.”