“Oh sweet Mary. What happened?” Jim asks them.
They all start talking at once, each one with a different version of the story and who is to blame. One says it had something to do with a giraffe and a cell phone, another says it was because there were birds flying around and the princess fell out of her tower, and yet another says the crayons were talking and told her to do it.
I am beginning to wonder if the girls are dropping acid in the toy room instead of playing nicely while enjoying suckers.
I guess the giraffe on the phone talking to the birds who buzz Cinderella’s tower while the red crayon stabs people is the reason there are currently five suckers stuck in five long piles of hair which in turn are all stuck together in one big ball of hairy stickiness. They look like a set of sextuplets joined at the head. It’s funny for a few minutes until we realize the only way to get the suckers out is to cut their hair. And there is no way you can cut a little girl’s hair without their mother noticing.
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 f**k 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 ni**les 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.