Brown, Berengaria - Possess Me [Possessive Passions 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (4 page)

“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 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 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 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.”

“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.

“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 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 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 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.