Date: Thu, 29 Jun 2006 09:26:22 -0600 From: Jack Glover Subject: My Triplets I used to have an eye for the lads. K through 12 I had done the usual fooling around with male classmates, even having a serious affair with a boy named Robert my last year of high school, but for some reason made a resolution when I went off to college that I would go straight, get married and raise a family. I guess it was just the usual societal pressure. During my junior year at college I met Marcy, fell in love, and right after Senior graduation we got married and moved to Scaggsville, in the same county as my home town. I began my career in a very successful locally-based manufacturing company. Our products were in demand world-wide and I eventually worked my way into top management. My young wife and I decided she would go off birth control in December 1992. As her pregnancy advanced during 1993 she became very large. Relatives and friends were amazed until the scans showed she was expecting triplet boys. Then there were endless discussions among everybody on what three names to pick. There were only two grandfathers, after all, and I'd be damned if I would call one of my boys (the first to come out) Adam, Junior. One evening after we'd turned in for the night Marcy asked me, "Adam, what should we call them Hughey, Dewey, and Louie like Donald Duck's brood?" "No, Honey, I think to end all argument we should announce that they will be called Tom, Dick, and Harry and I'm serious!" "You know, that's not such a bad idea," she said, giggling. "That will shut everybody up and no one's feelings will be hurt that they're not namesakes. Think how cute their bibs and T-shirts will look with those three names on them." "Whaddya mean?" I asked jokingly. "Thomas, Richard, and Harold?" "No, silly Tom, Dick and Harry." So that's what we named them, in order of birth. They turned out identical. I could tell them apart when they were naked due to varying little moles and other birth marks, but only Marcy could differentiate them when they were clothed. Their natural hair color, unfortunately, was mousey brown. We went through the usual trials and tribulations raising them -- childhood diseases, scraped knees, dealing with bullies, etc., but they were really turning out quite well. They all had good dispositions. We tried to be firm but fair, taught them to share, and they didn't squabble too much among themselves. They had the usual mystical bond that identical siblings have. During the first week that they had been attending nursery school, Harry piped up at the dinner table saying, "At school they're always treating us like triplets. I'm tired of us all being DENTICAL. Can't we color our hair green, orange, and blue with Jello?" "Not with Jello, Harry, but -- what do you think, Marcy?" "It is a cute idea, Adam, but I'd want to have their hair colored professionally: blond, brown and red." Then she added mischievously, "When it's time for the boys' hair to be re-dyed we'll switch up the colors just to confuse everybody." There was a chorus of cheers from the boys. "Yay, we won't be 'dentical' any more," said one of them. When Tom, Dick, and Harry showed up at nursery school the following Monday with their different colored hair it caused much consternation among the staff and their classmates. Of course the boys were tickled pink. Their head teacher determined that Tom had blond hair, Dick had brown, and Harry had red. She passed this information on to the rest of the staff, thinking these colors were to be permanent. Boy, was she wrong! We had a lot of fun with changing the boys' hair colors every few months right up through the sixth grade, when they were eleven. Then tragedy struck our family. Marcy was diagnosed with breast cancer and she didn't last six months. My boys and I were so distraught that I decided to let their hair color revert to its natural mousey brown. There were three hundred people at the funeral, including Robert, my lover from high school. I hadn't seen him since high school graduation because he had been devastated when I told him when we were eighteen that there was no future for us and that I intended to "go straight" in college. Luckily, his sister had prevailed on him to attend Marcy's funeral. Our feelings for each other rekindled when I was showing him our finished basement and what I thought would be a gentle kiss turned passionate. I learned that he had gone in the service and had remained a bachelor. The boys took to him and his sister right away. During a subsequent visit my son, Dick, showed him one of our family photo albums that illustrated the history of the boys' changing hair colors. He was very amused by the story and thought they should reinstate their varied hair colorings. Robert had been coaching high school sports in the next state for many years. His sister talked him into applying for head coach at Scaggsville High, a position just made empty by the retirement of Ron Baggley. (The kids used to call him "Scaggley-Baggley" behind his back.) When he was awarded the job he started looking for a house in town, but I prevailed on him to move in with me and the triplets. When I asked my sister if she approved of his moving in she said yes, of course, and floored me by telling me she had known that we were lovers in high school. The other bombshell was that Robert's sister was a lesbian. "It would be good for the boys to have two daddies, and the love and good sex you would get from Robert would be a comfort to you and help you get over your grief, Adam." "Jeez, Sis, you sure are an understanding person!" So, the arrangements were made. Robert moved into the house and shared my double bed. He was very careful as a high school coach never to hit on his male charges, even though he was strongly attracted to some of them and would discuss new cuties with me. On the other hand, he taught me a lot about gay life, since he had been quite promiscuous in the service while abroad. We made an agreement that if any of the triplets, who were just coming into puberty, made advances on us it would be alright. They could come into our bed almost any time they wanted, we would answer all their sex questions honestly and openly and all five of us would generally be nude when we were at home and not worry about modesty. We instructed Tom, Dick, and Harry to address my partner as "Uncle Robert" when we were out in society. They generally called me Dad or Pop and referred to him as "Daddy Robert" when speaking to me in private or with their brothers. Just before their twelfth birthday it was Robert's idea to re-instate dying their hair three different colors. They were grateful to Daddy Robert for suggesting it because it felt like their lives were getting back to normal after the loss of their mother. At their birthday party we had all the invited kids assemble in the living room before the three of them came down the stairs sporting their blond, brown, and red locks. Their little guests cheered loudly and our boys were grinning from ear to ear. That night, as we were tucking them into their three single beds, they asked us two daddies if we would give them permission to dye their newly sprouting pubes to match the hair on their heads. Robert and I laughed and agreed it would be a real fun idea. Before the next day was over they were all traipsing nude around the house sporting their color coordinated little bushes. It was so cute. Sunday mornings, after a late breakfast, the five of us generally would retire to the master bedroom for a leisurely orgy. Quite often the triplets would get into an oral daisy chain while Robert and I topped and bottomed each other. If one of our boys' pubescent dicks needed extra attention, say while his two brothers were heavily occupied with each other, we would give it to him. One Sunday, after watching us each climax in obvious ecstasy during a switch-hitter round of butt-fucking, Tom asked us to teach them about anal sex. "Our asses are big enough now. After all we're twelve and a half." His brothers agreed. So Robert and I decided that one weekend each month we would take one of the boys on a trip alone with us to give him individual quality time and lovemaking instruction. We let the boys pick their destinations for their deflowerings. Tom chose the mountains, Dick the shore, and Harry wanted to go to Manhattan. It worked out rather well. Each boy appreciated the undivided (sexual) attention of his two dads, as well as a brief respite from triplet-hood. After we brought the third one home from his TLC trip, we noticed that the triplets quickly got into playing "Lucky Pierre" with each other, one of them taking their other two brothers' dicks in their mouths and asses at the same time. Sexual activities were further livened up when the boys asked us if they could have special friends over to party with us naked. The first willing participant was an older buddy of theirs from high school, Herbie, who delivered pizzas on the weekend. Late Sunday afternoon the boys wanted pizza for supper. When Herbie came to deliver the two pies the naked little scamps jumped him and soon had his clothes off. Pizza boy's laughter was cut short when Tom's dick went into his mouth and Dick and Harry went to work on his dick and balls, respectively. When Tom, Dick, and Harry were through with him Herbie still was horny, so we asked him what he wanted. "I want Robert to fuck me until I shoot my load again without my dick being touched." "You got it," I said approvingly. "He's all yours, Robert. Let's all go into the bedroom." "Are you cleaned out, Herbie?" asked Robert. "I think so, but douche me out anyway. I love enemas." Me and the boys followed Herbie and Robert into the bathroom and all became aroused as the sensuous enemas were administered with considerable fingering and fellatio. When the pizza boy's love canal was judged to be in suitable condition we all moved into the bedroom. First Robert sank his shaft in gently in the missionary position with Herbie's ankles on his shoulders. As the screwing became a little more vigorous Herbie's legs lowered and wrapped around Robert's back. Then Robert turned him over and started to fuck the hell out of him doggy style. The stimulation of Herbie's prostate gave him the desired result and he shot a heavy load onto the bed spread as Robert ejaculated into his sixteen year-old bubble butt. It was glorious. The five of them took a shower together. I didn't have to because I had been the only non-participant in the orgy. When they came out of the bathroom, still slightly damp, Herbie showed what a considerate boy he was by going down on me and giving me the best blow job of the week. By that time we were all ravenous. We re-heated the two pizzas in the oven and scarfed them down with cola and beer. When Herbie put his clothes back on and was getting ready to leave I asked him what we owed him for the pizzas. "Oh, just give me twenty dollars. I've already had my tip."