Love Under Two Flyboys [The Lusty, Texas Collection] Cara Covington (short story to read txt) 📖

“Oh!” The orgasm came like a tidal wave, full and deep and wonderful, so wonderful she began to bounce, tiny movements that made Henry swear and begin to thrust inside her.

“Yes, oh, Tamara.” Henry’s cock slid deep, and he began to pump in her, a mindless, completely feral action and reaction that felt wild and wonderful. Friction ignited within her, burning her with a climax that kept flooding her with surge after surge of total and complete bliss.

She welcomed his weight on her, the feel and the sound of his struggle for breath and the sound of Morgan’s heart pounding under her ear.

“God in Heaven.” Henry’s low rumble could have been a prayer.

Tamara began to shake as tiny aftershocks of ecstasy shivered through her and made her teeth chatter.

“Are you all right?” Henry’s question echoed through her.

She smiled, and her smile felt as sexy as hell. “I’m way beyond all right, flyboy. I think we hit the stratosphere.”

“We aim to please.” Henry huffed those words against her neck.

Tamara giggled, even as she realized these two lovers of hers had told the absolute truth earlier. She didn’t think there’d be any going back, either.

Chapter 17

The Lusty Community Center had been built just last year—another Kendall Construction project, Tamara learned, to replace the aging and far too small recreation hall which the town had erected in the 1930s.

For this occasion, the interior of what they referred to as the great room sported festive decorations in white, teal blue and deep magenta. The space brimmed with people. The mix of voices created a platform of sound from which music softly rose. Country melodies of guitars and a drum and a fiddle filled the air. No DJ spun records or played CDs for this party. The entertainment came courtesy of a four-person combo in the back corner of the room.

Tables had been set up to one side, and one of the longest buffets Tamara had ever seen lined the far wall. All around her, people were smiling and hugging, laughing and chatting. The party mood seemed very much alive and well this late Saturday afternoon.

Samantha had already filled in some of the less personal details of today’s event. Rather than a formal affair, with seats assigned and the pomp of ushers, bridesmaids, and best men, a Lusty Commitment Ceremony was casual and friendly. Guests stood while vows were given and received, and then the celebrating began right afterward.

As much as Tamara was grateful to the woman for that information, what she really wanted to know about was the nuts and bolts of the arrangement itself. How on earth did all of these families manage to make it work? Her own parents hadn’t been able to hold it together, and there’d been only two of them. In the end, she reasoned who better to ask a personal question of than the men with whom she currently enjoyed a personal relationship?

“So tell me, how does this work, exactly? I’ve never been to a wedding featuring one bride and two grooms.”

Morgan chuckled. “Sometimes I forget the entire world doesn’t live this way.” He had a good hold of one of her hands, and Henry had the other. They led her to the right, looking for a bit of open floor where they could see the white wooden trellis that had been set up—presumably where the ceremony itself would take place.

“It’s really very simple,” Morgan said. “The oldest male becomes the legal husband—we can’t, after all, circumvent the laws of the land. That’s why this is called a commitment ceremony, rather than a marriage ceremony. Here, the three of them will pledge themselves to each other, creating a new family. All members of that new family vow to love and support one another.”

“The oldest is the legal husband? What about in the case of twins—or triplets?” She thought of Morgan and Henry’s own fathers, who were triplets.

“One of the reasons keeping track of the birth time is kind of crucial,” Henry said. “Our father, Preston, was the first born, arriving two and four minutes before his brothers Taylor and Charles, respectively.”

“The legal marriage is the formality,” Morgan said. “And by the time Susan and those Wildcatters get here today, it would already have taken place. This is the important part, right here. These are the vows that matter the most.”

“Why is that?” Tamara found she didn’t mind having both her hands held hostage. She also discovered she couldn’t resist smiling back at so many happy, smiling faces.

“Our kind of family—a ménage family—is more complicated, structurally. The husbands have a special obligation to make certain that jealousy never festers between them and that their wife never feels her loyalties are being divided. They have to work together to be a solid unit upon which the wife, and later the children, can depend.”

“Sounds like a good deal for the wife and kids.” She couldn’t help but let thoughts from her own familial experience seep in. Neither of her parents had ever proven to be anything other than selfish, immature people. “But what about the husbands? What’s in it for them?”

“Sweetheart, the husbands are the real winners,” Henry said. “They get a perpetually happy and satisfied wife. Women have always held the real power in relationships, you know. Forget about gender and pay equality. At the very base of our society, the truth is that if a wife is unhappy, her entire family is unhappy, too.”

“There are always tough times in life.” Morgan’s expression turned serious. “I’ve seen it happen at nearly every base I’ve been stationed. Sometimes the burden of worry can break a man, or destroy a marriage, or both.” He took a moment to bring her hand up to his mouth for a kiss. “One of the things our dads always say is that they really don’t know what that kind of heartbreak or despair feels like, because they’ve always had each other to