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The three of us stand there staring at the girls in horror, wondering what to do.

“Claire is going to kill me.  She’s been growing Sophia’s hair out since she was born.  She only gets trims,” Carter says nervously as he walks up behind us with Billy still asleep on his shoulder.  “Maybe I should call my mom again.”

“NO!  We are not calling your mother.  We are grown ass men and we can figure out how to fix this shit!” Jim scolds.

“FIX SHIT!” Molly yells.

“FIX SHIT, FIX SHIT, FIX SHIT!” all five girls chant.

“We’re out of our depth, man.  We’ll never make it out of this alive,” I yell to Jim over the girls chanting.

“We just need a plan.  Where is the closest wig store?” Jim asks.

“That’s the stupidest thing I have ever heard!” Carter argues.

I look at Billy in envy as he sleeps soundly on Carter’s shoulder through the chaos.

“Do you have a better idea, genius?” Jim asks him.

The three of us stare at each other blankly, not one single idea coming to mind that will ensure our wives don’t gouge out our eyes with spoons.

“Get me some scissors, a razor blade, a jar of peanut butter and some safety goggles,” Gavin says, coming up next to us.  “I got this one.”

~

Jenny walks into our bedroom a few hours later to find me sprawled out on top of the bed, staring at the ceiling.

“Why are their Barbie heads hanging from our ceiling?” she asks as she climbs into bed next to me and rolls over onto her back.

“Well, Gavin decided all the other Barbies needed a warning.  He figured if they saw what happens to Barbies that disobey, they’d think twice about putting Ken in a frilly pink tutu and purple stilettos during a Barbie parade.”

We stare in silence at the twenty little plastic heads affixed to the ceiling by their hair with scotch tape.

“Where are the kids?” Jenny asks.

“They’re both in bed.  It was a long day.”

Before I even finish the sentence, Jenny is on top of me, straddling my hips and ripping off my clothes.  It’s been so long since she took control like this, I’m momentarily stunned and don’t move.  She has my pants and boxers off before I can blink and pulls a Hulk Hogan and rips my tee shirt right down the middle.

“Oh my God!  That was my favorite shirt!” I yell, sadly glancing down at the torn lettering that used to say: Bitches ain’t shit but hoes and tricks – Ghandi.

Jenny pulls her mouth away from my chest, leans back, and glares at me.

“Are you seriously complaining about a shirt right now?”

Oh Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with me?  Why am I even talking???

“No, no, no, no!  Keep going.  Please, God, keep going.”

Jenny goes back to what she was doing, kissing her way up my chest and grinding her pelvis into my raging hard-on.

My hands clutch onto her hips and help her move faster on top of my dick.

“You still have your clothes on,” I mumble through groans as she licks her way up the side of my neck and sucks my earlobe into her mouth.  “OH SWEET SUGAR POPS!”

My hips jerk against her as she swirls her tongue around my ear.

She pulls away suddenly and I groan at the loss of her mouth on my ear until I see she’s sitting up and pulling her shirt up and over her head.  Her glorious tits are spilling out of her black lace bra, and my hands immediately gravitate to them, palming them and rolling them around in my hands.  She hasn’t let me anywhere near the twins since she started breastfeeding Billy, and I made that crack about cookies and milk.  I feel like a crack addict getting a hit after months of being clean.  I want to cry like a baby as I hold their fullness in my hands.  I feel her nipples harden beneath the lace, and I’m wondering if I’m even going to last long enough to savor this moment.

Jenny leans over me, sucks my earlobe back into her mouth and starts grinding her hips harder against me.  She’s moaning and breathing heavy in my ear and the warmth of her breath is making me forget all about the fact that she still has her skirt and underwear on and I’m not inside of her yet.  I move my hips faster between her legs, and she says the words that have the power of making me come in a split second.

“Felix wants to purr with Buck.”

Yes, we named our privates.  Sue me.

Jenny starts thrusting her hips faster, my dick rubbing against the cotton of her underwear, and I really want to reach down, move her underwear aside, and push myself inside of her but I can already feel my orgasm creeping up and my hands are clutched too tightly to her hips to move them.

Before I can stop it, I’m jerking, convulsing, and shooting my load against her white cotton underwear and the inside of her skirt.

“Fuck!  Holy crab rangoons!” I shout as the orgasm makes me twitch and my toes curl.

“Are you coming already?” Jenny asks.

“I’m sorry!  YES!  Oh fuck YES!”

She keeps moving against me and all of a sudden begins shouting her own excitement.

“Oh my gosh me too!  Oh yes, yes, yes!” she yells, sitting up on top of me and thrashing her head all around.  “OHHHHHHHHHH, OOOOOOOOOH!”

I lie perfectly still wondering what the fuck is going on as she starts slapping her hands against my bare chest and continues to flop her head all over the place, her long hair smacking me in the face as she works out the longest orgasm in the history of orgasms.

“YES!  YES!  YES!  YES!  OHHHHHHHHH YES YES YES!”

I’m completely amazed that she’s still going strong.  My penis has already started to go soft and her vagina isn’t even touching it right now.  She’s just humping air.

“YES!  YES!  DON’T STOP!  OOOOOOOOOH YES!”

Don’t stop what exactly?  Don’t stop lying here wondering how this is happening right now?

She finally ceases all movement and collapses on top of me, breathing heavy and sighing in contentment.

Within seconds she’s up and off of me and standing next to the bed.  She leans down and kisses my cheek.  “That was amazing.  I’m going to go check on the kids.”

She walks out of the room, and I’m left in bed with a shirt torn in half, naked from the waist down,  my wilted cock resting against my thigh, and twenty Barbie heads silently judging me when I hear her shout from across the hall.

“What the hell happened to Veronica’s hair?!”

Chapter 8 – The Great Swami

It’s been two weeks since I attempted the “fake it till you make it” with Drew and I think it was a total success.  He knows I still want him and that got me off the hook for a little while to try and get my libido back in shape.  I had a little bit of doubt that my performance wasn’t good enough and that Drew suspected I had been faking that day, but after a little pep talk to myself, I knew I was a golden shower.

I had made Liz play that scene from When Harry Met Sally seven times and then Claire made me act out the scene to make sure I got it right.

“Don’t keep your eyes open. You’re totally giving it away by staring straight ahead looking bored,” Claire stated.

I tipped my head back, closed my eyes, and started moaning loudly.

“How’s this?”

“You sound like a dying cat.  A dying cat that’s trying to catch snowflakes.  Put your tongue away and close your mouth,” Liz scolded.

“Really get into it.  Picture someone telling you that tonight, you will sleep twelve hours straight without any interruptions,” Claire instructed.

I screamed in ecstasy and shout words I didn’t even know how to pronounce.

“Wow, you nailed that one,” Liz said in awe.

“Yeah, I guess we found your sweet spot.  Just imagine you’re asleep when you’re banging Drew,” Claire said with a laugh.

“Hey, before we had Billy, our sex life was very exciting and I never would have needed to think about sleep.  We were even finalists in a porn home movie contest.  The contest required us to use four props.  Two living things, one gas operated power tool, and jumper cables,” I told them.