Tania
After what should have been one night with Pops, my husband, Dave, and father-in-law, Roger, decided they wanted to share me and become the hinge of a Vee. Dave had been raised by his polygamous grandparents and understood the stigma surrounding that label. Roger spent years in the Marine Corps, serving in Afghanistan. He didn’t witness all the shit that his parents and son were subjected to. Dave was bullied at school. His grandmother was branded a whore. Her lovers had been best friends since childhood and wanted to share one woman—because one woman would keep them together. They knew that if they each married separately, they would drift apart.
They moved away, but we still live in that same country hick town where narrow-minded people air their judgemental views. Roger earned a reputation for fucking around. Dave kept a low profile after marrying me. We have two sons called Levi and Leo who are still at school. His worst nightmare is for them to have to go through the same hateful ridicule as he did. But we’re stronger united. I have my men by my side. Nothing can come between us if we don’t let it.
Right now, we’re figuring out what we’re going to say to the kids. We all call Roger “Pops”. It stuck with me too. Finding out that Dave was a daddy-dom came as a shock to me. So, now I’ll be living with Daddy and Pops, and my little cherubs are bound to ask questions. What will they think if they find Pops in our bed, or see me kissing him the same way that I kiss their daddy? Kids don’t need to know all the details, but they should be told something so that they don’t worry. We don’t want them to slip up and say something to their teachers at school, or have parents gossiping about us in the schoolyard. It’s a small town, and shit tends to stick. Small rumors can snowball into gigantic scandalous boulders that could come crashing down to destroy us. We don’t want that. We just want to be happy. It’s not too much to ask.
“How are you feeling after last night?” Pops asks, wrapping his arms around me as I wash the dinner dishes.
He should be helping me to dry them but he can’t keep his hands to himself.
“I ache all over,” I tell him. “How about you?”
Dave dashes through the door to chase after our dog, Rex. He just swiped one of his socks from the top of the laundry basket and took it to the bottom of the yard to eat it. I’m not sure if it’s just a Labrador thing, but we often find twisted socks poking out of steaming piles of shit, all intact, not even chewed. It’s like he swallows them whole and then pushes them through his digestive system. It’s so gross. Some people lose their socks during the washing cycle. Not the Millers. Rex is our sock-stealing culprit.
Pops presses kisses on my neck and the tickling sensation does all kinds of beautiful things to my body. It’s Sunday. The kids are fed. They’ve had pudding, and now they’re watching cartoons in the sitting room. Cuddling Pops is fine. They always see Pops with his arms around me, thanking me for dinner. This is nothing unusual for us. But as he slides his palms beneath my top, over my lace-covered bra, and gently squeezes my breasts, this is all part of our new dynamic. This is something that Daddy does when nobody is watching. We’re always careful around the kids. Pops will need to learn this.
“There’s only one place I’m aching, and it needs some attention,” he hints, pressing his erection against my ass. “But I can wait; I’m not a brute. I’ll give you time to recover.”
I angle my head to kiss him. It’s a quick kiss because I don’t want to get caught by the kids. At least not before we’ve talked to them about us.
YOU ARE READING
Living with Pops & Daddy
Romance*Excerpt* I should be counting my blessings. My computer whizz husband, Dave, agreed to share me with his father, the sexy ex-soldier, Roger, and I couldn't be more into it. Dave wants to learn to have better sex, and Pops is willing to teach him. A...
