Date: Thu, 29 Jun 2006 09:26:22 -0600
From: Jack Glover <jglover48@usa.net>
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."