Entwinglement

ENTWINGLEMENT

A procreative quantum superposition enigma

[ Please read the Standard Disclaimer on Alextasy's bio page ]

[ The Singularity of Deceit ]

A week of constant rain had stopped a few days before. The sun was out and spring flowers were popping up everywhere. The temperature wasn't supposed to top seventy so I figured I'd take care of a chore I'd been putting off.

It was a perfect day to discover my wife was having an affair.

Melody had taken a shower then left around nine to meet up at the club with her college roommate Diana. They played tennis nearly every Saturday morning. It didn't make sense why she took a shower both before and after playing, but I had given up trying to understand women years ago.

Since I had worked summers in construction from the time I was sixteen until my senior year of undergrad, I was the family handyman. Molly, my sister-in-law, had asked months ago if I would repair a section of wood fencing in her back yard that was wrecked by a fallen tree limb. The ground was damp for easy digging and I didn't have anything else pressing. Loading up the tools in my pickup, I headed across town to my sister-in-law's house.

She was glad to see me and gave me a big hug. Perhaps because Molly and my wife were almost identical twins, the pressure of those spongy pillows mashed against my chest prompted unwanted activity in my pants. I quickly pulled away. She asked if I needed anything but I'd scoped the job out months before, so I had the lumber I needed in the truck.

My in-laws raised athletic girls. Where my wife Melody excelled in tennis, Molly was a runner. She was training for an upcoming marathon and said she would be back in two or three hours after a 25k run. I enjoyed long runs in the 5kto 10k range, but I didn't have her stamina. I was tempted to go with her to see if I could keep up. The fence had been waiting since January and took priority.

"Greg said to call him when you're ready to get your butt handed to you on the greens again," she smirked.

Greg was her latest beau. They had been tight for three or four months. I liked the guy and was thinking he might be the one for her. Molly had been through a string of boyfriends since I'd known her. She never kept them around long before things fell apart. She talked to Melody, but neither of them shared the details with me.

My wife said her sister was searching for the right guy. I figured she was just a free woman who liked variety. Thank goodness for one more difference between the sisters.

Excusing myself, I hauled the tools and materials out to the back of the yard. First thing, I unwound the electric cord back up to the house and opened the back door to plug it into the socket just inside.

I heard a sound like a low, painful moan. I heard it again, only louder and more agonized. It sounded like Molly. Wondering if she was hurt, I followed the sound to her bedroom. She was alone on her bed, still in her running outfit. She was writhing and clutching desperately at the sheets and her breasts, shaking and clenching her fists. Molly's whimpers and wails grew more intense by the second. She muttered filthy words and begged her invisible partner to fuck her.

The vision of my sister-in-law caught up in a sexual frenzy without actually touching herself was the most erotic and torturous sight I'd ever experienced. Unable to tear my eyes away, I watched and listened to Molly's mounting passions until she let loose with a fierce scream, crying, "Ohfuck! Ohfuck!" She arched up off the bed, then froze in shuddering ecstasy.

In that moment I knew Melody was cheating on me.

* * *

I enjoy working with my hands. It is something I don't have to think about. My regular job is a professor at NC State Universit, y nearby. I am a theoretical physicist. My field is quantum mechanics.

Explaining the nature of everything is a mind-bending adventure. With a house we deal in three dimensions--height, width, and length. Add the passage of time to that and we have the four dimensions most humans can easily comprehend.

Current theories of quantum mechanics suggest the existence of at least ten dimensions--and maybe more--that form billions upon billions of separate universes in addition to the one where we live. Regardless, the same rules that combine hydrogen and oxygen to form water also have to apply to galaxies, black holes, gravity, and whatever happens in all those alternate universes. Yeah, mind-bending...

One of the more curious and fascinating properties of quantum mechanics--at least from my perspective--is a phenomenon called entanglement. We've proven that two subatomic particles created at the same time can share certain properties and act identically and instantly across great distances. We refer to those two particles as 'entangled'.

A prominent theory says that all particles everywhere are linked together by interwoven filaments, sort of like multi-dimensional wires. My PhD thesis proposed the idea that those filaments can vibrate like the strings of a guitar. I posited that when those vibrations between two particles resonate in certain enharmonic ways, the particles could also become 'entangled'.

My extensive research and ground-breaking theory received a resounding 'ho-hum' from the quantum mechanics establishment. I wasn't too upset. About that time I met my future wife and discovered an even more mind-bending phenomenon.

[ Entangled Twins ]

I'd heard the silly rumors about identical twins, how some of them could read each other's minds. On my third date with Melody she suddenly jumped up and excused herself from the table at an exclusive restaurant. It was over ten minutes before she returned. She was flushed and her hair was out of place. She had a sleepy, glazed look in her eye. If I didn't know better, I would have said she had just fucked somebody.

In fact, I didn't know better. I was steamed. I demanded to know what she'd done, and with whom.

She told me a bizarre story. She and her twin sister, Molly, were able to sense each other's emotional changes. If one was sad, the other felt the same. When the second got happy, she lifted the spirits of the first.

Melody said that her sister was on a date as well. Apparently, the date moved into intimacy. Molly had just experienced a powerful orgasm. Melody felt her sister's joy in its full intensity.

I didn't believe her. I was a scientist. All that flaky babble about pyramids, astrology, crystals, and mind-reading didn't fly with me. Pissed that she took me for a sucker, I paid the check. The ride to her apartment was icy. Neither of us spoke but she wore a tight smile.

When we arrived, Melody said, "You can pay me back."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"How many orgasms can you give me?"

We had kissed. They were hot kisses, but we hadn't ventured further. Melody was not a bombshell. She was, well... pretty. Certainly not stunning. Her nose was a little big and her mouth too wide, but I liked what I saw. She had impressive athletic legs and a sweet curvy butt. She put on big effervescent smiles and she was smart and easy to talk to, and the best damned tennis player who ever whupped me. Her firm body felt right when she held it against me. So far we had clicked on every level.

And now she was inviting me to treat her to as many orgasms as I could deliver? I was never one of those dense, socially-inept geeks, but I wasn't an idiot either. I made her strip, and inspected her all over. No hickeys, no bite marks, no semen smells or sightings. Although her sex was clearly aroused--and I had never paid close attention to a pussy shortly after sex--hers showed no clear indication it had been penetrated.

I took the bait.

It was about three o'clock in the morning when her phone rang. She put it on speakerphone while her sister ranted.

"What the hell are you doing to me? Who the fuck is this guy, some pornstar? Eight fucking times? Seriously, Mel? I gotta be up in three hours and teach ninth-graders all day, goddammit."

I had counted only six times, but Melody was a quiet fuck.

We both laughed and promised to hold off. I could never resist the allure of morning sex, however. I tried to time it for about fifteen minutes before Molly's first class.

That was the beginning. Melody and I never again slept apart. I met Molly a few weeks later. Their only physical difference was a small, raised mole just behind Molly's left ear. Melody had nothing there.

Their parents had made special efforts to individualize the two girls. Melody--or 'Mel' as her sister called her--was easygoing, soft-spoken, and modest. She said inviting me to bed that night was the most impulsive thing she'd ever done. Molly, short for 'Molly', was loud and brash. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind. We had some great arguments, and were soon like best friends.

Over time I got accustomed to Melody's sudden wide-eyed bouts of breathless shaking and clenching that ended with her eyes rolling back in her head. Sometimes I watched, and sometimes I helped. Molly never mentioned whether she sensed my involvement.

If we were in a public place Melody might touch my arm, give me a look, then disappear. She would come back a few minutes later with bright skin and an affectionate attitude. We usually returned her sister's favor as soon as conditions allowed.

The similarities with my research into quantum entanglement were intriguing. The two sisters were created at the same time by one egg and one sperm cell. Why couldn't the entanglement between two particles be reproduced on a macro scale? The odds would seem to be enormous, though somewhat less so with two fetuses forming side by side. As a physicist, I'd seen ideas once deemed impossible now accepted as commonplace.

So, standing there in Molly's bedroom, watching her spirited sympathetic enjoyment of my wife's orgasm was intriguing as well as erotic. She was a much more vocal and animated sexual creature than her sister. But the treachery gnawed at my gut. My erection should have been trying to rip my jeans open. I was flaccid.

I waited until she settled back on the bed with a gentle smile and a quiet, satisfied moan. She raised her head to get up and saw me at the door.

"Ohgod! Michael! Did you..." She couldn't miss the look on my face. "Ohgod, I'm sorry!"

"Who is it?" I asked. My voice was flat. I wasn't sure she knew but I had to ask.

"Please, she's my sister. I can't say anything. You need to talk to her."

"Yeah, talk," I said. I felt numb. "Not sure there's much to talk about."

Molly jumped up from the bed. "Don't do anything, okay Michael?"

"Gotta go finish the fence," I said and walked back down the hall.

Molly yelled, "She loves you, Michael!"

That sparked the thought that the first order of business would be to arrive at a definition of 'love'.

Fixing the fence was relaxing. It was times like these that I got my best thinking done. I would come up with a 'what if...' then follow that strand through multiple branches to their logical conclusions.

It was no different that day. The only difference was the nature of the 'what if's'. What if she's coerced, or raped? What if I don't satisfy her, and she needs a bigger dick? What if she wants me to watch them? What if...?

Then, there was the big one--what if she's in love with somebody else? What if he's getting her pregnant? The baby discussion had been batted around. I wanted them. She wanted to wait. That wait may now be longer than either of us expected.

Working on auto-pilot, the fence was repaired before I knew it. I packed up the tools and scrap wood, then stepped into the house to unplug the cord. I called out Molly's name to let her know I was leaving. She didn't answer.

I wasn't too surprised to see my wife's car in our driveway. It was an hour before her 'tennis' match usually finished up. What if she had been fucking some guy instead of playing tennis for years?

She was waiting in the foyer when I opened the door. She looked ragged. She had been crying. Her hands were wringing. She stared at me.

"Did she tell you?" I said.

"I love you, Michael."

"Ha!" I snorted, then walked by her to the bar in the den where I poured a bourbon and water.

Melody had followed me. "Talk to me, please. I screwed up."

"Who?"

She hung her head. "Diana."

I was glad she wasn't looking at me to see my mouth drop open. That was a 'what if' I hadn't processed.

Around the time of our wedding Melody reconnected with her college roommate, Diana. She had moved out of town at the end of their senior year, just a few months before we met. Shortly after our wedding she moved back. She would come over for dinner occasionally and the three of us would go out dancing.

I figured things out at the first dinner when she arrived with another woman. Like Molly, she never seemed to make a connection with anybody. Every time we saw her she was with somebody new.

I'd never felt warm fuzzies from Melody's old friend. Now I knew why.

"How long?"

"Since college."

"When we got married?" My temperature was rising.

"No! Not then," she said. "I mean, she wanted to. She said I was making a mistake. Maybe she was right."

The knife in my heart twisted.

"I was a mistake?"

"No, not you!" she said, then shook her head. "I'm screwing this all up. Despite what you probably think, I love you. What I meant to say was, I should have married her and had you for my lover. Then we wouldn't be in this shit pile I've made."

My wife never used such words. For a second or two I wondered if I was talking to Molly.

Melody said, "Tell me what I have to do to fix this. Anything, Michael. I swear."

"Fix it?" I said. "I'm still working on the time travel equations. Once I get that perfected I'll send you back three years and you can 'fix it'."

"Stop with the physicist's jokes. I'm serious."

"It's no joke, Molly. There is no fixing this. You fucked around on our marriage."

"It's not fucking," she said, though she was obviously not convinced herself. "It's... different."

"You never kissed her like you kiss me? You never gave her your body to use as she wanted? She never put anything in your pussy? Not a finger? Not her tongue? Not a dildo?"

Melody looked down and didn't answer.

That started another thread of thought. Did Diana fuck her with big plastic cocks? Was it because she needed something more than I could give her?

"How long?" I asked. "Just once? A month? Six months? All three years?"

Her voice was just above a whisper. "Not three. Around two."

"Two years? You've been fucking that bitch and lying to me about it for two fucking years? What makes you think I could ever trust you again?"

"I don't know!" She wept, hands clasped at her chin. "Please, Michael. Give me a chance! Believe me. I'll find a way."

"Just go back to the bitch. Give her what she wants. It's what you wanted anyway."

"No, it's not!" She rushed at me and threw her arms around my ribs, but I didn't respond. "I want you, Michael. That's all I want. I was stupid."

"Answer one question," I said. "Why didn't you want children? Was it because you weren't ready to be tied down to me yet? Were you keeping your options open?"

The ghastly expression on her face was my answer. Honestly, I think she didn't realize why until that moment.

I said, "It's over."

"No..." It came out as a long, weak whine.

"I'll get a hotel room."

"No, Michael!" Melody said. "You stay here. I'll go... somewhere."

We both knew where she was going. I figured she wanted me at home so she could keep tabs on me.

She packed up the essentials and her Mom and Dad helped her move in with Diana. I got along super with them. They both expressed their sorrow at the situation and told me they sympathized with my position.

I also learned that Melody's college relationship was known to the family. She and Diana had gone through a nasty break-up at the end of their senior year when Melody mentioned bringing in a guy for a night of fun. Her Mom and Dad didn't know Diana had moved back. Nobody said anything about whether Molly knew or not.

State law required a four month separation. Every time I saw Melody she begged me to take her back and swore she would never see Diana again, but she didn't fight the divorce.

[ Time is Not a Constant ]

Coming home to an empty five-bedroom house was the most depressing part of every day. The extra rooms had been my decision. It was kid-ready.

Now, it was the mausoleum of my marriage. The emptiness echoed with the clatter of every fork I took from the drawer and the dull, thudding footsteps up to my gloomy bedroom. Other than her clothes, Melody had taken only a few photos and a couple of pieces of furniture that belonged to her grandmother. Nearly every direction I looked was a reminder of the happiness we shared, and how it all imploded like a black hole, sucking all happiness into its inescapable maw.

One of the implications of Einstein's theory of relativity is that time is not a constant. Sitting alone in my house, time seemed to stretch to the asymptote of infinity. Going out to bars held no joy for me except to deaden the heavy ache in my heart. As the spring semester came to a close there were exams, and reports, and thesis meetings, and graduation details that kept me busy for a few weeks. By mid-May the campus was as desolate as the gray, powdery, cratered moon of my soul.

Weekends were monotonous. For something to do, I added a new level to the deck in the back and fixed a few squeaky cabinet and plumbing problems in case I decided to sell the place.

Greg took me golfing a few times. Thankfully he kept the conversation light, no mention of either of the sisters. With a wink he said he could find me a hot date if I was interested. I shook my head. I'd been on the receiving end of some flirting but I had no interest in women.

I was seriously thinking about a dog. There was no love like the love of a dog. They didn't cheat on you with other bitches. Look in a dog's eyes and you knew she couldn't lie to you.

After yet another take-out Chinese dinner--I could cook, I just didn't feel like it--I was slouched back on the sofa sipping my third or fourth bourbon and watching some idiotic TV series about a man who traveled between alternate universes. The show contained plenty of suspense and good acting, but a lot of technical blunders slipped through in the plot. I decided hell was a place where people knew everything. Once upon a time, I didn't know everything. I was happy then.

I heard a thumping on my door. It was almost ten on a Friday night. Who the hell would come around at this hour? When I headed for the door I realized I was wearing only some old jeans. That was good. Most days I tended to wander around in my boxers.

When I opened the door my jaw clamped down.

My wife was on my front porch. She looked like she was coming home from a date. Her dark hair had a sultry, elegant style and one leg was thrust out through the sexy slit in her midnight blue dress. A large sapphire pendant I'd never seen was dangling in the vee between the pale curves of her breasts. She wore black fuck-me heels.

She grinned up at me, wavering unsteadily.

"Whatcha' doin, Michael?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Had to be to make myself come here."

I looked up and down the street.

"Did you drive?"

"Took a Ooober," she snickered at her exaggeration.

Something wasn't right.

"Show me your neck," I told her.

"Oh!" She grinned, then she giggled. "You think I'm her. I mean, not me. Molly, I mean. That's me. The bad sister."

"You're not bad."

"I can be," she said, rolling a prominent teat between her fingertips through the silk fabric. "Do ya' wanna hit your stupid ex-wife where it hurts?"

Something was moving around in my pants. Like any man with a sister-in-law, I wasn't free from fantasies about her. The images of her energetic orgasm that killed my marriage still haunted my memories.

"What do you have in mind?"

"Fuck me, Michael. Give the silly slut a taste of her own"--she burped then giggled--"her own medicine."

"How would she know it's me instead of Greg?"

Molly got a sly grin. "Trust me. She will know. I always knew when she was with you."

As opposed to her other lover, I guess. But that meant their entangled orgasms weren't all the same.

She closed her thighs together. "Hey, can I come in? Gotta pee."

She was wobbly on her legs and I helped her to the half bath down the hall. She didn't close the door, just hiked up her dress and sat down. I couldn't resist looking at her. I noticed she hadn't pushed any panties down first.

"Aahhh..." she said as the piddle splashed in the bowl. She wiped herself and stood up with her back to me. "Unzip me."

"What about Greg?"

"Lemme worry 'bout Greg. We haven't committed to anything." She waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon, unzip me. I want you to fuck me. That thing in your pants says you wanna fuck me. My stupid sister wants you to fuck me."

"Does she know you're here?"

Molly twisted her head back over her shoulder, grinning. "Not yet."

She had the same big nose I'd loved for years. The same wide grin. But this wasn't the same woman who had annihilated me.

Ignoring my better angels, I went to her and dragged the zipper down. The lean muscular back was the same, too. And the eminently feminine heart-shaped butt. I pulled the hair aside enough to confirm the small mark below her ear.

"Yes, it's me," she said. "Go ahead, take it off." Her voice had a breathy, seductive sound.

I slipped the straps from her shoulders then pinched the dress fabric at her hips and pulled down. The silk hissed as it slid over her skin. The dress fell in a circle and she stepped out of it, then turned around. She was wearing only the necklace and the CFM pumps.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

"Fuck now. Talk later."

Molly dropped to her knees on the cold, hard tile floor. Despite her inebriation she seemed to have no problems navigating my pants. The jeans and my boxers were around my ankles in seconds. She immediately grabbed my erection and pumped it a few times, then pointed it straight out and took it into her mouth.

My wife gave good blowjobs. Molly was great. She switched around from making loud, sloppy noises as she bobbed furiously to letting her wet lips graze up and down my shaft, slow and tender. Gradually she took more and more of me until her red-lipstick made its print around the base of my cock. She backed away, sucked on my balls, then fucked her own throat rapidly to make glug-glug-glug sounds.

"Jesus, Molly..." I groaned, laying a hand on her head. Except for a few productive, but unsatisfying sessions with my hand, I hadn't done anything in over a month and a half.

"Mmm..." she hummed, starting up the quick bobbing rhythm again with her fingertips teasing my balls.

Seconds later I whimpered, "Molly... here it... ohfuck... ohfuck... Aahhh..."

Slowing her motions, she suckled gently then squealed when the hot semen gushed through my cock, lighting off tingles that made my toes curl. Her soft lips incited fresh rushes as they caressed the skin of my pecker. She drank everything I gave her.

She stood up and laid her arms over my shoulders, gazing at my eyes and my lips.

"My sister told me you didn't have a problem kissing her after she sucked you off."

"Doesn't bother me," I said, then curled my hand behind her head to pull her in for a steamy, tongue filled kiss.

Pausing, I said, "What else did you sister tell you?"

Her lips twisted in a sly grin. "She said you were the best fuck she ever had, and your tongue ran a close second. But I already knew all that."

"You could tell the difference?"

"It doesn't matter. She will be able to tell."

A pang of guilt made me say, "I don't want to get you in trouble with Melody."

"She made her choices. She chose stupid, and she knows it," Molly said. "If fucking you by proxy is all she can get, she'll take it."

"So, you're doing this for her?"

"Fuck no!" she laughed. "This is all for me. Showing that stupid cunt what she's missing is a fringe benefit."

Molly shrieked when I swept her into my arms and carried her to my bed. Diving between her toned thighs--both sisters had gorgeous thighs--I sucked and licked and nibbled my sister-in-law's delicious pussy to a screaming orgasm. She cursed me and cried "Yes! Yes!'" then called me names while gripping my hair and moving my mouth all over her vulva.

When my finger 'accidentally' flicked over her anus, she went, "Ooo! Do it again..." Her sister always called ass play 'dirty'. She humped my face and exclaimed, "Fuck yeah! Fuck my nasty ass!" as I worked a finger inside. I found her g-spot with another finger, and between the two of them and my tongue on her clit, I brought her to another yelling, screaming climax.

She demanded I fuck her, now! There was nothing shy about Molly. I slammed my cock into her and we took off. Fucking her was like wrestling a tigress. She bucked and scratched and fucked me like a crazed woman while uttering vile names between pleas to do it harder, faster. She came three times on my cock before my balls gave up. I roared and rammed in hard to blast my semen deep in her belly, wondering what sort of bizarre, alternate universe I'd been transported into.

We cuddled and kissed like real lovers for a while, ignoring the elephant in the room. She sucked me hard again and rode me until she screamed out two more. Then I took control, flipping her on her belly to fuck her from behind while my finger reamed her sweet ass. After she enjoyed another two vocal orgasms, she begged for my cum. I delivered one, last load of cream, then collapsed.

* * *

The next thing I knew, the light was coming in low through the curtains. My wife was here with me and all was right with the world. Then the events of the last twelve hours came back to me. The warm, naked body spooned into me wasn't Melody.

Molly was looking back at me. She had a contented smile. We kissed. I had morning wood. She pulled it between her legs and rubbed the mushroom head over her clit until she enjoyed a soft, mewling climax, so unlike the feral outburst from the previous night.

Cocking her pelvis forward, she guided me inside and threw her leg over my thigh. Side-by-side, staring into each other's eyes, we made love. We rolled over and over in the bed, clinging to one another, giving and taking. When I finished inside her, I couldn't say for sure if she had climaxed. Tears glistened in the corners as she gazed into my eyes.

"Once in a while, before my sister went terminally stupid, I would feel this deep sense of contentment, surrounded by a halo of overwhelming joy from her, like she was locked up in an infinite orgasmic loop. She just kept coming and coming." She planted a soft kiss on my lips. "Now I understand."

That sounded like a subject for more intense research. We kissed, a long and sincerely affectionate moment, interrupted by nature's call.

Rolling off the bed, I went to pee. Molly was still in bed when I came back. I laughed to notice she still had on one of her fuck-me heels from the previous night. I was about to ask her if she wanted to join me in the shower.

"Ohfuck..." she said, her eyes suddenly going wide. She grabbed a breast and cupped her pussy, whimpering one word. "Diana."

I knew what I had to do. I pressed my face into Molly's soggy puss. I wasn't squeamish about my own semen. As Diana manipulated her sexually by remote control, I doubled down. I had no idea how these things worked. Did they cancel out? Or was it like a gang-bang?

Molly shrieked and wailed through at least four climaxes, one right on the tail of another before she pushed me away, panting for breath. I could only guess that Melody was in much the same condition.

When the last of the powerful orgasms subsided we showered together and she put on one of my tee shirts. We made breakfast together. She didn't act like she was ready to leave and I didn't say a word. The house didn't seem so empty any more.

We cleaned the breakfast dishes. She went into the pantry and I heard her fumbling around. She came out with an armful of cleaning supplies.

"What are you doing?"

"When was the last time you cleaned the bathrooms?"

They weren't self-cleaning? The only housecleaning I'd tended to were the dishes. It hadn't been high on my priority list. In fact, the only thing on my priority list was drinking.

"Can I help?" I asked. She rattled off a list. I laughed. It felt good to have something to do.

It was a little after noon. I was polishing the furniture in the front room when I heard Molly yell, "Fuck!" I ran to the kitchen. She had been scrubbing the tiles. She was on her back on the floor, squirming in the grip of sexual entanglement.

"Aloe!" she yelled, pointing up towards the sink where Melody always kept a bottle of gel in case of burns.

I had no idea why she thought that would help but I grabbed it and brought it to her.

"Lube my ass," she said breathlessly, squeezing her tit. "I'll show that stupid cunt."

One of my girlfriends in college was an anal slut. She taught me everything I needed to know. Rule number one? Too much lube is not enough.

Pushing the nozzle through her anus, I squeezed half the bottle in. Then I slicked up my fingers and began stretching the ring.

"Fuck yeah, you're good," she cooed, grinning and pulling her knees back to her shoulders to tilt her pelvis. "She's gonna fucking love this."

Once she was dilated enough, I slopped more on my cock and placed the broad head at her sphincter.

She snarled. "Do it, you bastard!"

It was amazing how such hateful sounds could be so fucking sexy.

When I popped through, Molly arched up and grunted. "Unh..."

I pushed inward, taking it slow. Pulling back, I fed the rest of the aloe into her then penetrated her again. I felt her muscles tense as she opened herself to me. Her insides turned buttery soft. I resisted the impulse to shove all the way until Molly said, "What the hell are you waiting for? Fuck it, cunt-breath."

Cocking my hips, I drove in deep, prompting a high pitched squeal and another arched back mini-climax. I leaned over her, pinned her arms to the floor and ravished her butt, hard and ruthless.

"Ohh... Fuck!" she squealed as her sphincter spasmed.

I wondered if that was an anal orgasm. Not all girls could.

About a half dozen hard thrusts later, I found out. She threw her head back with an ear-piercing scream, and her whole body seized up. Every muscle in her ass clamped down on my cock, throbbing.

For a few seconds I couldn't move. When the pressure eased off I started ramming into her again.

"Come in me!" she cried out. "Show my stupid sister something that bitch can't do."

I started pumping relentlessly, barreling toward ecstasy. She screeched when I lunged all the way in. A handful of heartbeats later the exquisite thrills shot up my spine as my hot cum gushed through my cock to spray paint her bowels.

"Yes... Ohh, fuck yes, yesss..." She sighed. Her eyes were closed and she had a soft smile. Her smile turned into a big grin. "How does that feel, stupid sister?"

Lifting Molly into my arms, I carried her to the shower. We hugged and kissed. then cleaned each other. She sucked me to make sure I was ready, but not quite all the way.

"Has Melody ever experienced anal with you before?"

She laughed. "Little Goody-Goody, Miss 'I Don't Do Dirty Things' begged me to get my ass fucked. She loves it."

I never knew. I wondered how many times she had been getting an entangled ass fuck when I was right there. It was one more reason to appreciate her sister.

How long was she going to hang around? What the hell was she doing here anyway?

Those were questions I wanted the answers to, but I was too afraid of the answers to ask them.

The fridge and the pantry were mostly bare. She made a huge shopping list and sent me to the store. It took me a couple of hours. When I walked in the back door I smelled something delicious cooking.

"I found enough lemons and eggs to make a meringue pie," she said. After the shower she had changed into one of my white dress shirts.

While I put the three hundred dollars worth of groceries away she put together a delicious, home cooked meal. It was the first I'd had since before Melody kicked herself out.

We had a good, long fuck that evening. In the middle, Diana decided to fire back.

"Oh, it's big, so big..." Molly said, rocking her hips.

I knew she wasn't talking about average little Mikie. I kept fucking her. She was tight as ever.

"Oh, yeah... give it to me, babe. Fuck me. She knows it's you. She... she... Wait! No! Stop, Michael! Stop!"

I froze. "What's the matter."

A tear was falling down the side of her face. "She's crying. They're not doing anything. I think she pushed the bitch away."

My heart went out to my wife. I couldn't trust her, but I couldn't stop loving her either.

Then she smiled and said, "Fuck me, Michael. She's touching herself. She wants to feel you."

I began with slow, deep, steady thrusts, then picked up the tempo.

"Come for her!" Molly said, and I went into overdrive, fucking hard and fast until my balls imploded, propelling semen up through my cock to splash against Molly's cervix. She made soft, mewling, pleasured sounds.

I dropped beside her on the mattress. I was confused.

"It feels like you're trying to get me and Molly back together."

"I don't want you to make a mistake. She loves you like crazy. You need to make a decision."

"I love her, too, but I've made my decision. I can't stay married to her. If it had been just once or twice and she came clean, maybe I could have dealt with it. Hell, I might have let her keep seeing the bitch. Her lies killed my trust. I can't go back."

"You're sure. No chance."

"None. I'm sure."

Her arms flew up around my neck. She dragged me down for a hot, sultry kiss that reached down between my legs and rejuvenated my fading erection. She squealed and laughed when I started fucking her again. She came once more. I had nothing left. We kissed for a long, long time.

Afterward, we cuddled on the sofa to watch a movie. She went to sleep in my arms, and I carried her to bed.

[ The Big Idiot Theory ]

The next day, a Sunday, her lips woke me, riding up and down my woody. We made love.

Suddenly she gasped. Then she grinned.

"They're at it again," she whispered as if someone were listening. "Diana isn't all that into sex. Even in college it was only two or three times a week. She's desperate."

I dropped down to lick her pussy and her ass all over. Then I pulled her on top. She rode me, dragging the length of my cock along her clit until she hit her peak. I drove up into her and soon my semen was once again pulsing into her pussy.

Then I grabbed her butt cheeks and lifted, sliding down until my face was underneath her dripping crevice. She squealed with delight when I lowered her onto my lips, drinking my ejaculate from her while I brought her off again.

A little later we were enjoying homemade breakfast burritos with peach mimosas on the new section of deck. She was in a pair of old jeans that Melody had left behind along with my dress shirt. We'd been ragging on the abominable political situation--a point we both agreed on.

Molly went quiet for a couple of minutes. She was pushing food around her plate but not eating anything. Her sister did that when she had something she didn't want to say. My stomach clenched. Suddenly, my appetite went away.

"Uh, I need to go home." She was looking at me across the glass-top patio table. She looked apprehensive.

"I'll take you whenever you're ready."

There was another pause.

"You said you and Mel were over. Do you have anybody else lined up?"

"Ha!" I laughed once, then shook my head. "Nobody in my sights. I don't plan to do anything until the divorce is final. I'm not looking forward to dipping back into the dating scene."

The truth was, I could easily see myself dating Molly. The last couple of days had been good for my mental and sexual health. I still hadn't figured out why she was here, but I was immensely grateful for her presence.

It didn't take much math to calculate the low probability of anything more between us, however. With her sister, her family, Greg, and Molly's tendency to swap out boyfriends every month or so, I didn't see any future for us.

She was moving things around on her plate again.

"So, you're planning to stay here by yourself until after the divorce?"

I shrugged. "Guess so." On a whim, I said, "Unless you want to come back and visit. I don't mean just for the sex. We could do other things. You know, like go out to dinner and some dancing. I could cook for you here, if you like. Or we could go for a run."

Her lips had a small, upward curl. She was nibbling on her lower lip the way Molly did when she was excited.

"So you wouldn't mind if I stayed a day or two?"

"I would like that."

"What if I wanted to stay more than a day or two?"

Her stare was like a pair of lasers aimed at me.

I stared back. "How long are you thinking?"

"As long as you would let me."

My heart was pounding. She couldn't be serious. Molly the slut? She hadn't kept any other guys around very long. Why should I think it would be any different with me?

"I wouldn't want to interfere with your search," I said.

"My what?"

"Your search. Molly said you were searching for a special guy. That's why your boyfriends never lasted more than a month or two."

Her jaw clenched and her eyes narrowed. I wasn't sure what I'd said but it was the wrong thing. I readied myself for a verbal thrashing.

Just as quick, her features softened. She started to chuckle softly, shaking her head.

"Yeah, she was right. I was searching," she said. "Then I found him. Mr. Perfect. He's really smart. Pretty clueless, though."

"Greg seems like a great guy. I think he'd jump at the chance to take the next step with you."

She laughed aloud, which annoyed me.

"Greg's not the guy," she said. "He's close. You like him a lot, don't you?"

"Yeah, we get along great."

"You know why that is?"

I shrugged. "We like the same sort of things. He's smart, got a great sense of humor. We get each other's jokes. He sorta' reminds me of the way I was when I was a little younger."

"Yeah, he's a lot like you. But he's not exactly you."

"No, not exactly," I said, wondering where this was going.

Molly stared silently across the table. Her lips were twisted in a quirky smile.

Not exactly you...

Fuck. The brilliant theoretical physicist was a functional idiot. Maybe I could get my own TV show.

I tossed back the rest of my peach mimosa. To look at her, one would think she and my wife were identical. I had learned a lot about my sister-in-law over the last couple of days. They weren't at all alike.

"You said you would stay as long I let you."

"Yes, I did say that." She was smirking.

"I might want you to stay for a long, long time. You sure you want to rush into such a big decision?"

"The decision was made nearly four years ago. If I could find a guy like my Mr. Perfect, I was gonna grab him and not let him go."

"Mr. Perfect huh? That's not me."

"The last thirty-six hours says you're wrong."

"Sounds like you're talking about a permanent arrangement."

"If I can get it."

"What are your parents going to say?"

"Mom and Dad really like you."

"Yeah, I like them too. After what's gone on with Melody, though, I'm not sure they would be--"

She reached across the table and grabbed my wrist. Her eyes were narrowed.

"No, you don't understand. Mom and Dad really like you."

"Oh." I said.

"They really want grandchildren."

"Oh?" I said. "How do you feel about that?"

"With the right man I could be persuaded."

"The right man, eh?"

"Being pregnant during a hot, sweltry, Carolina summer would be the pits. I hear May birthdays are nice. April is better."

She took a sip of her mimosa, watching while I did the arithmetic in my head. Her timetable would have us starting before the divorce was done. I didn't have a problem with that.

But one little question was still nipping at my craw.

"Did you know about Melody and Diana?"

Molly pulled back and straightened in her chair. She set her cocktail down.

"Of course I knew. How could I miss that? I knew what she felt like from college. I told Molly she was screwing up. She thought she was safe. She didn't expect you would have a problem with another girl if you found out."

"You didn't say anything to me. I thought we were friends."

"We are friends, goddammit! It hurt like hell to know what she was doing to you. But I never promised you anything, and she's my sister. From the beginning we were two halves of the same body. You don't fuck over somebody like that, no matter how stupid they are."

"And yet, you're here."

"I can't change what's happening between the two of you. Last night you said there's no going back. If I'd heard the slightest hesitation in your voice I would leave today and never return. Last chance. Are you and my sister finished?"

"Finito. Done. Over." I cut my hand across my throat.

She lifted her drink and watched me while she slowly turned it up and drained it.

"In that case, will you take me home so I can bring over a few clothes? I love your shirts, but the school might object."

[ Schrödinger's Panties, or Science Meets Faith ]

Molly moved herself in a little at a time. She was planning to rent out her house in a few months, once things got settled.

I called Melody on Monday. Nothing was said about what happened over the weekend. Our place was getting crowded from the furniture she left behind plus the stuff Molly was bringing over. I offered to deliver whatever Melody wanted to Diana's or to a storage facility. She asked me to wait until the day the divorce was final. I didn't understand why. Was she expecting me to change my mind? I didn't want to stir up any problems so I agreed.

Months before all the excrement struck the rotating blades, I had committed to teaching two classes through summer school. One of them began at six o'clock, three days a week, and it let out at seven-thirty. I was usually home a little before eight.

After class on Thursday evening I walked in to see Molly dressed for a date, decked out in an LBD that stopped just above her knees. She had on a strand of pearls, a slutty shade of red lipstick, and her black CFMs. She looked hot enough to fuck.

"Sorry I'm late," I said, even though I wasn't. "I didn't recall we had plans."

"We don't," she said. "I'm meeting someone. There's some chili on the stove and guac in the fridge."

I got a bad feeling.

"This someone. Is it a man?"

"Yes, he is." She came to me and laid her arms round my waist. She planted a tiny kiss on my lips, careful to not smudge her makeup. "Are you upset?"

"I'm not happy." That was a candidate for the understatement-of-the-year award.

"Do you think I'm going to do something with him that you wouldn't approve of?"

I searched her eyes for the right way to answer that. I couldn't come up with anything that wouldn't sound snarky so I kept my mouth shut.

Molly said, "I was talking with one of my students about what you do. He explained a few things about quantum mechanics."

"You have a ninth-grade student who understands quantum mechanics?"

"He's a sharp kid. His name's Jamal. You should talk to him sometime. He told me about some guy named Scrimminger who had this cat, and he said--"

"Schrödinger," I said, groaning inside at the thought of all the wrong ways his cat analogy had been twisted around.

"Yeah, that's him. Anyway, this Schrödinger guy said everything's made up of tiny little participles that nobody has ever actually seen--"

"Particles, not participles," I said, growing more curious how this was supposed to explain her date.

"Right. So, nobody can predict exactly where one of these particle things is, or what it's doing, or what it looks like. It may be red, or green, or spinning or vibrating. The weird thing is, it can be red and green at the same time, or it might be spinning right while it's also spinning left. When Jamal told me that, it blew my mind."

I chuckled. Schrödinger's theories had detonated brighter minds than mine.

That wasn't explaining her slutty outfit, however.

"So, this guy you're going to meet..."

"Yeah, I'm getting to that. You think about these quantum particles all day. You can't see them. You don't know that they're really there. They might be red or green, or both red and green. You have your theories, but the truth is you're running on a certain amount of faith."

"It's not faith. We know they are there. We can see how they behave when we run our tests."

Her eyes flashed and she grinned. What did I say?

"Right now I might have red panties on. Or I might have green panties on," she said. "Or maybe I don't have on any panties at all."

She was smirking. My pants were getting tighter.

Molly said, "You could look under my dress and you would know. At this moment in time, my panties are sorta like one of your quantum particles. They are both there and not there."

I had to laugh. I would have to figure out how to slip that analogy into my lectures. Far more interesting than Schrödinger's cat.

Then the reality hit me.

"You're going to meet this guy. And you might not have panties on."

"You have some serious trust issues, Michael. Especially where me and my sister are concerned. Considering our history, those issues are justifiable."

"Talking about your superpositioned panties isn't helping my trust level."

"The thing is, I don't want you to trust me," she said.

"You... don't?"

"I want you to believe in me. I want your absolute, dumb, blind faith."

I was confused. "So, you want me to trust you...?"

"Trust is not an absolute. It is a continuum. I trust my doctor with my health and my banker with my money, but not the other way around. If you show me your dick, you can trust I will make it happy. If you show your dick to a rattlesnake, you can trust he will bite it."

"I've been bitten once. I can't promise what I will do if it happens again."

"Give me your faith, Michael. I want you to believe in me the way I believe in you."

"Faith, huh? Is this supposed to be some sort of religious experience? Because I've never been a big fan of organized religions."

"Religions are nothing more than words. I'm going to bear your children. Before we make that leap, I want to know I have your complete faith. Just like your quantum particles, untested faith is only a theory."

"Is that what tonight is all about? You're testing my faith?"

"Just like you test my faith every day when you go to that big college with all those hot, nubile coeds who would do anything--and I mean anything--if you would only bump their grade up a few points. They would be so-o-o grateful."

She fluttered her lashes, making me laugh again.

I told her, "I have never given in to any of those offers. I never will."

Molly pulled her belly against my hard-on and looked up at me.

"I believe you," she said. "So, here's the challenge. You could peek under my dress and see whether I have panties on right now. Until you actually look, you don't know. But if you were to check, that would change the results. It would mean you don't have the faith I need from you."

The analogy was closer than she realized.

She said, "Besides, if I understand what Jamal said, even if you look now, you still don't know that I won't take them off or put them on when I get in the car. The simple fact is, it doesn't matter whether I do, or I don't, or I will, or I won't, because nobody else is going to find out. I'm asking you to believe in me."

Gazing into her eyes, I knew what my answer had to be.

Leaning down, my lips carefully touched hers. "Have fun on your date."

She grasped my erection. "Keep this ready."

She snatched up her little black purse by the door, and she was gone.

I couldn't eat the chili. My stomach was tied in knots. I poured a drink and sat in front of the TV wondering if I was the most naive and stupid man alive.

On a personal level, Schrödinger was probably not a good choice for her analogy. He was a shameless lecher with children by several women, and his wife had her own lovers, some reportedly female. She did threesomes with him. Did Melody's long-term infidelity make Molly think she could lure me into a situation where she keep something on the side? I prepared myself for the worst.

I was on my third round when I heard the door. My watch said she'd been gone less than an hour and a half. Plenty of time.

She came straight to the den, straddled my thighs and flicked the TV remote off. She looked as sexy, and as fresh and unruffled as when she left. Grabbing my hand she pushed it up under her LBD. I felt cotton. Damp cotton.

"That's me. Same as you last saw me, but getting more and more ready by the second."

She made me sample her to convince myself. A sample was never enough. Before I was done she wasn't so fresh and unruffled. We were both a lot more relaxed.

Afterward, we were lying half-naked, scrunched up beside each other on the sofa.

She said, "Greg said to tell you 'congratulations', and you better be on your game Sunday."

"He was your date?"

"I always make a clean break. They are never easy. This one was particularly hard. I like him."

"Do you usually have a new guy in bed before you drop the old one?"

As soon as I said it I knew it was a mistake.

She looked back and forth between my eyes. "You're wondering if I'm going to run off with somebody and leave you behind."

"I'm sorry. It just... I don't know."

"What happened to the faith?"

"I kept thinking about all the guys I'd seen you with before, and how jealous I was of them. It hurt to think you might be with one of those guys."

She asked, "Where did it hurt?"

I tapped my chest.

"Would it feel better if you hurt me?"

I was aghast. "What are you saying? You want me to act like I might screw some of my students?"

She had that sly smile I was beginning to love.

"I was thinking of something a little more direct," she said. "Sit up."

I pushed myself up on the sofa, staring at her. Molly laid herself face-down across my lap, then reached back and pulled her skirt up to bare her porcelain bottom.

She looked over her shoulder. "Show me how bad I hurt you. Make me cry."

Stroking the pale, velour skin made her moan. Beyond a few love pats, I had never hit a woman. The urge was overwhelming, but I held back. A curious question popped into my head.

"Will she feel it?"

"Not the sting. Just what I feel inside. I remember crying when one of my sister's boyfriends spanked her after she--"

"Melody got spankings?" My blood pressure spiked.

"I think it was her freshman year when--Ow! Fuck!" She cried out when my hand came down hard and fast.

All misgivings were gone. I forced the pain from my heart down my arm and out through my hand. All the anger, all the anxieties and bitterness and humiliation that somehow I wasn't man enough to satisfy my wife.

I didn't keep count. I kept pounding away until Molly's lovely butt was a lovely shade of sunburnt pink. Her arms were wrapped around my leg and she cried and blubbered apologies and shrieked when I smacked a place I'd hit previously. Those were the most satisfying.

Finally, I'd had enough. My arm was tired. My hand stung like shit. My erection felt like it wanted to burst out of its skin.

Molly pushed herself up and knelt, straddling my thighs. By now I knew the reason for the intensity in her gaze and the way she was breathing. It was a long-distance call from my ex-wife's lover. Molly came up on her knees lowered her pussy to devour me in one swift motion. Her eyes rolled back in her head.

"Fuck me, Michael. Make us come."

She shrieked when I rolled to the side, throwing her down on the cushions and laying half my weight on top of her, still embedded. Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed, holding me down on her body. My cock banged into her like a piledriver.

"Yeah, show that bitch how a man fucks a woman," she growled. "Remind that stupid sister of mine how the man she loves used to fuck her."

Molly screeched and came. I wasn't sure who caused it. I didn't care. I kept fucking her and kissing her and tugging at her nipples. She came again. The third time was a long, eerie wail. Sweet electric tendrils burst out from the base of my balls and I roared. Molly's head flew back and she arched up, silently raising both of us off the sofa.

When my head cleared she was looking up at me smiling. Suddenly her eyes fluttered, and she clenched her teeth, sucking air between them. Her pussy trembled around my hyper-sensitized cock. That one was from Diana.

She looked up at me and grinned. "You beat her again. All four times."

"You can tell?"

She nodded. "More importantly, so can my stupid sister."

[ The Gravity of Sisters ]

I insisted on talking with her parents. The Belsons came over for dinner the following Sunday. The whole matter was settled in thirty seconds by her mother. She was a sweet, kindhearted woman--and a twin--who wasn't afraid to go straight to the heart of a matter. She had a big schnozz, a lovely wide mouth that smiled often, and toned legs. It was easy to see how her daughters would look in twenty years or so. The entropy of old age would have its own blessings. "How many?" she asked, her gaze sweeping back and forth between me and Molly.

"How many?" I repeated, puzzled by the question.

"Two, at least," Molly told her.

"Two what?" I said.

"Children," they both said, letting out exasperated sighs and shaking their heads at each other over the clueless physicist.

"Oh," I said. "I was thinking three."

That got me a respectful look from both women.

"When?" Mrs. Belson said.

"I've stopped already," Molly told her mother, making her raise a brow.

"Your sister?"

"There won't be a problem."

"Good," her mother said. "Please pass me those delicious biscuits, Michael. You must share your recipe."

It was done. Apparently Molly had worked it out with Melody. I couldn't help but feel a touch of sympathy for her. But I guess she got what she wanted.

Throughout the exchange, Molly's father remained passive. I had never noticed how Molly was assertive like her mother while Melody shared more of her father's wishy-washy manner. I resolved that, despite Molly's strong will, I would not end up like him.

The intimacy of our relationship grew. Sex was off the charts. Molly didn't say no to anything. I tied her up. I spanked her. I pinched her titties and sucked her toes and ate her sloppy pussy and licked her butthole. She sucked me, fucked me, and stuck her finger up my hairy ass to massage my prostate to a comatose-inducing orgasm.

Even better, I had an active partner who didn't back down from a good argument. Many discussions turned heated. Those inevitably evolved into double entendres and innuendo, which resulted in more off-the-charts sex.

She was off the pill. Every time I fucked her I imagined I was planting a baby. That transported the off-the-charts sex into a completely different dimension.

The Fucking War with Diana had gradually escalated. I couldn't figure out her objective. Nearly every time we had sex she would do something with Melody, as if she were trying to disrupt our fun. The truth is, Molly was eating it up. She was getting nearly twice the orgasms. At least three or four a week were in her tight little butt.

It was about a month before the divorce would be final. I hadn't spoken directly with my ex-wife since the Monday after my first night with Molly. My single class on Friday was out at two and I was on the way home for the weekend.

Pulling up to my house, I found Melody's car parked on the street. Molly told me they got together occasionally, and the message was what I expected--she's doing fine but she misses me and she still loves me. I didn't want to intrude further.

When I walked in the house, they both came out of the kitchen. I recognized Melody because she looked defeated. Standing next to her sister she looked thinner. She had been crying and had dark circles. She wouldn't meet my gaze.

Molly had a smirk. "Diana kicked her out. She was tired of all the pleasure Mel was getting from you."

"I'm sorry, Melody. I wasn't trying to cause problems."

It was a bald-faced lie. I got a frisson of joy that we'd beat the wife-stealing bitch.

My joy was short-lived.

"Can she stay here?" Molly said.

A spiral nebula of questions spun in my head. Why here? Why couldn't she stay with her parents? What was wrong with Molly's house? Why hadn't she rented it out, yet? Was she hedging bet on me? Then there were all the repercussions from my soon-to-be-ex-wife living under the same roof with me and her rampantly naughty sister. Could she handle it? Could I rub it in her face?

In the end, my conscience wouldn't let me be the asshole I wanted to be. I would draw a line, however. I wasn't going to be a pushover like their father.

"One week," I said. "That should give you time to find a place."

Melody's eyes came up. She had small, pleased smile.

"Thank you, Michael."

I got the fuck of the month that night. Molly sucked me off and drank everything down. I toyed with her body until I got erect again. She wanted me in her ass. We showered afterward and she sucked me hard. We went back to bed and made love for a long, long time. She thanked me for being such a kind and forgiving man.

Along the way, I confirmed the raised mole behind her ear to be sure I was with the right woman. I should have known from the lively blowjob and screaming orgasms and ass-fucking, but I wanted to be sure. From the time they were tykes their parents had strictly forbidden them from playing 'sister swap' games. Molly never said anything, but I felt sure she knew when I checked.

But even while my tongue reveled in the Amazon jungle of Molly's cunt, my mind kept drifting to the woman feeling it two rooms away.

The week passed. There was no sign of movement. The dynamics among us were like when Melody and I were married, except the roles were switched. Everybody got along. Melody seemed happy. I was surprised that I felt no discomfort around her. I let it slide another week.

Then another.

The day was here. Molly called to tell me the letter had come in the mail. My marriage was over. She said Melody had decided to visit their parents so we should go out and celebrate. Sounded like a good idea.

I made reservations at one of the swankier restaurants. We were seated. Something was going on with Molly. She was antsy. I began to suspect when she ordered juice instead of wine. I thought back and couldn't remember the last time she'd taken a drink. It might have been weeks ago.

"The doctor confirmed today," she said as soon as the waiter left with our order. Her broad grin stretched ear-to-ear. Until that moment I'd never understood what people meant when they spoke of a nascent mother's glow. "We're pregnant."

Cocking my head, I got a pinched expression. "Already? I don't know. That's gonna be a problem."

Her face sank. "I... I thought... I mean, you said it was okay if we..."

Tears glistened around her eyes. I had planned to pull her chain about our bastard child, but I couldn't do that to her. Taking hold of the small box in my pocket, I stared firmly at her as I stood and went around the table. When I dropped to one knee the tears began in earnest. A hush fell over the restaurant. I held out the box and opened it. I popped the question.

Molly leaned forward, taking my face in her hands, and brought her mouth by my ear. Her breathy voice had a husky sound.

"You are so going to get it tonight, Buster. The answer is 'yes'."

While we kissed I took hold of her left hand, found the finger, and slipped the ring on. A thunder of applause and cheers erupted behind me.

Her mouth turned me into a blob of protoplasm that night. Her lips and tongue must have caressed me for an hour before she let me go. I returned the favor of course, starting at her toes and not stopping until I had tasted nearly every inch of her motherly skin. Entering her pussy, I thought about the baby growing there. My baby. Our baby. The love we made was exquisite. Our eyes never left each other's.

In the morning I was surprised to hear noises downstairs. Molly was still in bed with me. I gave her a questioning look.

She kissed me then rolled out of bed to strut to the bathroom with an extra sway in that sexy ass. She knew I was watching. I hadn't spanked that ass in a while. I'd better get my licks in before she gets too far along.

I stepped into some jeans, and slipped into a tee as I made my way downstairs. My ex-wife was making breakfast. She seemed cheerful. She wished me a good morning and told me to help myself to the fruit on the table. Even though I'd just left the bed of my spicy fiancee, the familiar sight of Melody in her pajama shorts and those legs triggered an old memory. Fresh blood surged into my loins. I wanted to take her in my arms, to hug her and kiss her like I had for a thousand mornings before I discovered her treachery.

I couldn't risk that, though. It was sad to think that, except for the singularity of Melody's deceit, what I had now with Molly wasn't better than my first marriage. The relationship with Molly was like fire and ice, full of adventure. That didn't diminish the love that Melody still stirred in my heart. She was like chocolate--easy, creamy soft, and yielding.

Molly appeared a minute later in her nightshirt. She flashed her left hand and Melody oohed and aahed over the ring. I was embarrassed that it was bigger and more elegant than the one I could afford for my first marriage. They hugged, then my ex-wife came to me and wrapped her arms tight around my waist. It was the first hug we'd shared since I'd learned about her lover.

I laid my arms around her, watching Molly. She wasn't gloating. She nodded. She seemed happy.

After a croaky, whispered "Congratulations", Melody turned and walked away toward her room, saying "Excuse me."

I couldn't see her face but I knew she was crying.

"Is she okay?" I asked her sister.

Molly nodded. "She'll be fine. I feel her happiness for you. For us."

It was difficult to grasp the thread that tied the two women together. It was almost like they were two bodies with one soul. Being around them like this could be unnerving.

I said, "Has she said anything about finding someplace else?"

"Has it been a problem?"

"Uhh... not exactly."

In fact, I liked having her around. I couldn't understand why it didn't bother Molly.

"Are you okay with it?" I asked.

She came to me with that sultry sway in her hips and laid her arms around my waist.

"You still love her, don't you?"

I had to look away. "Sorta'..."

"What if someday, I get the stupid sickness like my sister and do something to piss you off. How hard would it be to replace me with my doppelganger?"

"She's a fail-safe?"

"Let's just say, with her waiting right there for me to fuck up, I'm not going to take any chances."

I was about to push her over on the kitchen table when I heard Melody coming. She had freshened her face. She was smiling. Molly joined her, working on breakfast. I sat at the table sipping coffee and reading the news while I listened to the two sisters chat about everything but our quirky relationship. It felt like home.

The wedding was small. Melody was the maid-of-honor, just like her sister had been for her. The week-long honeymoon cruise was a fuck-fest. Melody was glad to see us come home so she could get some rest. I was pleased that Molly experienced no sympathetic pleasures.

* * *

Molly is showing now. Her glow is warm and healthy. We are still enjoying some form of sexual play most days, often more than once. A couple of times she has seduced me in front of her sister. It's like the best sci-fi sex ever to have two women coming on your dick at the same time, when one of them is on the other side of the room. Especially when both of them are dear to you.

Melody hasn't dated anyone. I'm sure of it. She's almost always home when she's not working. She plays mixed doubles with her new gay male partner. I'm confident Molly would have told me if anything happened.

Still, I think my ex may be pregnant, too. A couple of times I've caught her gazing at herself sideways before a mirror, running her hand over her belly. It may be a symptom of their entanglement that gives her the same glow as her sister. I expect to know within a few months.

But then, there are the strange occurrences, once or twice a week since shortly after Melody moved in, when my wife has come to me wanting 'us' time. Some nights, she is easier, more compliant. She is emphatic when she tells me she loves me, and she says it frequently. She accepts her spankings, and never denies me anal sex, but on those nights, her orgasms are more reserved. When my fingers move up the side of her neck, searching for the mole, she catches my arm and guides it away.

"Believe in me," she says.

After the second time I stopped looking.

And when she comes, quietly in the way she does, I hear a distant screeched "Ohfuck! Ohfuck!" from down the hall.

Eat your heart out, Schrödinger.

I just hope it's not two sets of twins.