CisterWife

Christy starts shouting. "Send mine back! I don't need a new wedding dress. My old one fits me, and it'll do just fine!"

Sandra thrusts out her ample chest, her hands on her hips in a dominant pose. "It's blue! You agreed to a white wedding, white décor, white orchids, white dresses!"

Our blonde sister wife is livid. "White is for virgins, righteous in their purity. I wasn't a virgin the first time I got married, and everyone in church now knows how impure I am. They all saw me taking off with George. I'm willing to wear blue. It should be blood red like the whore of Babylon. I have no purity! I starved her of all my love and gave it to the glutton beast. The only white that fits me is the uniform of an evil nurse pulling the feeding tube from a coma patient!" Christy collapses to the floor in silent, heaving sobs.

Sandra melts over her like a gentle layer of snow, holding her safe in comforting arms. "I'm not religious, but I have to say this. We're all imperfect. Our only purity is the white lace of righteousness we're dressed in from above. I have to accept the free gift I don't deserve, and you're in the same boat. Quit trying to buy God's love, treating him like a fucking whore! Put on the wedding garment He provides. You never should have worn blue in the first place. What happened to you and how it affected you was not your fault!"

Christy stands up, with Sandra's help, gathering her poise again as a dignified lady. "You're right. White lace it is. A wife wears the authority of her spouse. We three wear the love who calls us holy, liberating us. The one who invented female is the original feminist."

* * * *

The whole church is in attendance. The church looks like a winter landscape in a Christmas card. There's a sea of white orchids, each one donated by a loving church member. They're all rooting for us. The hall is packed. It looks like a snowstorm. We'd requested that everyone wear white for this event.

At first Pastor Lucy objected. We gave her a copy of Heaven's Brides. She stayed up all night reading it. She called in the morning to tell us she understands now. We're all the bride. She also told us she lost count of her climaxes reading it. Good girl! She hinted at spending a weekend with us after the Christmas season rush is over. We'll have to see about that, but the thought did help us in crafting our own custom wedding vows.

The canon played on hand-bells is done. We're all in place. Pastor Lucy is dressed in white too. The only spot of color she sports is the same item all three of us brides are wearing: a tiny pink lipstick lapel pin. Christy insisted on that little touch.

Pastor Lucy begins. "I was going to preach, as many pastors do, on what is marriage. Instead, you can google 'Sermon Heard Round The World' when you get home. In the Lord, we're all sister wives with benefits. That's why even the men today are dressed in white, also wearing tiny pink lipstick pins, in solidarity and symbology as spiritual sisterwives."

Sandra gasps, looks at the audience and giggles. She hadn't noticed that before.

Lucy presses on. "Sandra Belle, Christy Zadok, Ellie Zadok, do the three of you all take each other to be your legally and heavenly wedded wives, to have and to hold, to love, honor and cherish, to prefer above all others, and in all loving to be united in mutual consent and respect?"

"We do!" Three ladies in white lace shout. I'm one of them.

Pastor Lucy continues. "You each have been fitted for two identical wedding bands, instead of one engagement ring and one wedding ring. You hold your wives' rings in your left and right hands. I ask each of you now to place one wedding band on the ring finger of each of your two sister wives."

With each of us to our two spouses, it is said six times. "With this ring, I thee wed."

Lucy concludes. "By the power vested in me by this church and under the legal authority of the Liberty Marriage Amendment, I now pronounce you three to be lawful and spiritual wives of, with and for each other, on earth as well as in heaven. You three may now kiss your brides."

The whole church fades out of existence as the three of us kiss in three pairs and finish in a passionate triangular kiss with lots of tongue and deep, urgent affection. We finally break from the kiss. After several seconds of perfect stunned silence, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I guess they like love.

Belinda Patterson walks up to the harp, joined by five other choir members. They surprise us with a performance of Joni Mitchell's song 'Ladies of the Canyon'. It's incredibly appropriate. I'm reduced to tears of gratitude and joy.

* * * *

A blizzard of white-garbed audience members later, the entire hall has transformed from an impromptu wedding chapel to a dance floor surrounded by café tables. The cake has already been cut and distributed. Now come all the presents. The table is piled high with them. Our little table is in the front of the hall, just to the side of the big table holding all the presents and the remains of the cake.

* * * *

Jessie Talbot owns Rainbow Firearms...yes, the entire national chain. She attends this church, but she's too busy touring the country for her new book to commit to choir this year. She's the last to approach us with a wedding present. She walks up to us, holding three rainbow boxes.

She hands one box to each of us and makes her presentation speech. "Ladies, I'm so proud of you for putting George in the hospital, and then behind bars. Protecting life is an act of love, even if you have to shoot to kill. My present is for every member of this church, given in your name, along with lessons and legal support. Our Pulse Pistol fires a nano-missile with a high yield warhead. There's no kick. You pull the trigger lightly to paint with the laser dot. When you're happy with the target, pull the trigger hard. It'll aim the missile where you were painting lightly, and take out your attacker. This piece is painted in lovely rainbow colors."

Christy is in awe. "Wow, Jessie, when did you start working on that?"

Jessie sniffs. "I lost a dear friend at the Pulse. After pouring four million into getting the Pulse law passed, we designed the safest, most bad-ass gun the new law would allow."

Lowering my voice so only Jessie can hear, I try to play mediator in a political tornado. "This is a wedding. A lot of our members here believe in gun control."

Jessie gives me her best little Miss innocent look. "I'm all for gun control. A gun does no good if you can't control it!"

A shofar blast interrupts us all, thank God. It's our band, 'Messy Messianics'. They're playing their first song, 'Modern Maccabee'. The bass beat is so solid people don't stop dancing to pay attention to phrases like "a sturdy heart and a steady hand".

I grab my wives by the hands. "Let's take off on our honeymoon before this place breaks out into a second amendment riot. I don't want red blood all over our sweet, pretty white lace."

Outside the door, Sandra comforts me. "George's attack came from within the church, even within the choir. It's only natural for our loved ones to feel protective toward the three of us. Jessie's gift was a lovely gesture. We'll send her a topless photo with our thank you card."

Christy holds me by my boobs. That always calms and excites me. She also speaks words of comfort. "Lipstick does not mean spineless. I saw what you did to George. It made me so wet. You'll always be my bad-ass bitch."

Chapter 10. Period Music.

"We are the Champions!" The stereo is blasting Queen's triumphant victory anthem, waking me up. Sandra and Christy are dancing around the room naked, gyrating their hips wildly to twirl the strings hanging out of their pussies like tassels on a stripper's boobs. It takes me only a few seconds to figure it all out.

When Christy was late, we thought George knocked her up. Instead, she synchronized her cycle with Sandra. Both of my sisterwives are on their period, and the tampon dance is their celebration. There's no more hold George can have on our lives any more. We're totally free of him forever!

I join in singing too, at the top of my lungs, in my newly restored soprano voice. "...of The World!"

We finish the song together, three divas on top of the world. There's a knock at the door. The kid from next door looks sheepishly around the room at three sexy women, two naked and one in panties. "Our parents are away, and we were worried our party would wake you. I just came by to say rock on, and don't let anything harsh your buzz!" Then the nice boy goes back next door, pleased to have gotten an eyeful.

We three start cracking up, cackling as three ladies on a natural high can do. I pick up Christy, carry her over my shoulder to the bed, grabbing the shower curtain in my left hand on the way. Flinging the shower curtain before her, I dump my deliriously happy blonde wife on the bed, on top of the plastic shower curtain. I pull the string and start sucking on her. Both my wives are gasping. I'm attacking my beloved Christy with my mouth, relishing in the mixture of flavor she has to offer me. Her thighs clamp around my head, trying to crack my skull. Her squirting is the most profuse I ever remember it. She's probably washed herself nearly clear by now! She's screaming at the top of her lungs. This is a very loud period party!

As Christy's coming back down, panting in shrill, quick breaths, Sandra asks me in awed wonder, seeing my face red with her wife's discharge. "What does that taste like?"

With a look of bliss on my face, I answer. "Victory."

"Let me see." Sandra kisses me, moaning as we snowball our wife's mixed broth of crimson and clear celebration between us. Christy is wide eyed, watching this, her hands between her legs unbidden.

As Sandra pulls off from the kiss, she coos. "You're right. It tastes like victory."

I give her a naughty grin. "Good. You're next."

Many girls won't eat each other out during periods. I've just blasted that taboo to pink mist. Sandra takes her place where my Christy just was, and I devour her as well, after pulling the string on her flavor seal package. I'm making a loud display of slurping and swallowing, just as I did with Christy. Looking up, I see the two kissing as I'm eating Sandra. Good. I want all three of us ladies involved here.

I keep going back and forth between the two of them, each getting a turn after the other. I've eaten ten gushers, five apiece, while they've suckled, kissed and caressed each other above the equator. They've both squirted so much they're almost clean down there. The same can't be said for the shower curtain. Both of them help me gather it up by the corners, not allowing any flow to hit the bed. We're good. We get it to the tub without incident. The shower comes on, and the rinse is accomplished. I'll never forget the taste of victory.

Chapter 11. Christmas Presents.

Geoff keeps his distance from the three of us. He always has some lame excuse. I think he might have a crush on me. It's my fault for letting him imagine me sleepwalking through the house naked as a girl. Now he sees me dressed as a girl, with low cut boob blouses. And I'm up to 38 hips. I'm not a C cup, though. I sped right past that, into a solid D and holding. I'm proud of keeping my 24-inch waist.

That's why I was astonished by Geoff's request. The only reason I believed him is my own vanity. If he's perving on my wives, he'd be perving on me more. Sandra showed me his email, still laughing her ass off. Our king of the nerds asked for molds of my two wives...very intimate molds of very intimate places, along with a whole slew of precise measurements of hips and other places on their lower bodies. He said it's for fitting a surprise Christmas present. He said I don't get one, cause I don't need it. That's my only clue.

Well, I DO have one more clue. I know how Geoff makes a living. He licenses his patented sensor skin technology to SensUall, the people who make fake legs for war vets that can actually feel with the skin of their artificial legs. They can feel heat, pressure, all sorts of things. It's pretty impressive technology. It recognizes and wirelessly ties into severed nerve bundles, mapping back through the brain using neuro-fractal genetic resonance. In the ad, models used their fingernails to lightly write words on legs. The blindfolded amputees spoke the words.

Knowing Geoff, I have a naughty theory what my girls' Christmas presents might be. It's beyond anything I'd imagined hoping for, so if it's not that, I'll ask him to invent it. It has to be that. My hunch came to mind when I read his email. That's the main reason I asked my sisters to comply with his exceedingly inappropriate request.

* * * *

Wrapping paper being ripped is really loud! Both Sandra and Christy squeal even louder when they open their gifts. Literally standing up proud in their boxes are two lifelike eight-inch cocks. They look VERY lifelike. Along with each gift cock is a card. They look alike from here. I assume they are.

Sandra clears her throat and reads her card aloud. "These prosthetic devices are custom designed to fit each recipient perfectly. These are generations ahead of my licensed technology. The neural density is thousands of times greater. Instructions. 1. Put on the strap-on, and let it form itself to your engorged clit, sensing and networking your nerves. The signal rides in deep then resonates with unused male connections in your brain. 2. Try jacking off. That's exactly what men feel. 3. Give each other a good Rogering, whoever Roger is."

I'm giggling. "That's all the instructions?"

Sandra's grinning like a maniac. "That's all it needs! This better work." She's already putting it on. I know her clit is ready for it. I can smell her from here. She groans. "Oh, fuck! I just touched my own cock, and it feels fucking incredible. Ellie, come give me a blowjob."

Wow! I can't believe she said that to me, and I can't believe I'm so excited about it. "Why me?"

Sandra's tone is plain and matter-of-fact. "You're the only girl here without trans-cock trauma."

"Well, since you put it that way." I crawl over to her on my hands and knees, eyeing my prize. I keep reminding myself. This is not a man's cock. This is the cock of my sister wife.

Seeing my lips moving as I approach, Christy goads me. "What did you mutter under your breath, young lady?"

I confess out loud. "This is not a man's cock and balls. They belong to my sister wife."

Christy makes squishy sounds with her fingers between her legs. "Holy fuck! That is so hot! Do it now, Ellie. I need to see my sister wife getting her first blowjob."

I'm not into men, but if it'll please my women, I'm into their cocks. If anyone understands a girl having a cock, I do. Duh! I drag them both into the bedroom, and to the bed. If we're going to do this, we're going to do it right.

My buxom, purple haired wife is sprawled out, her big dick sticking out, beckoning to me. That cock surrounded by her hourglass figure erases all my anxiety. I know why I was hesitant to get involved with the gay man scene. They were men. I craved to be enveloped within a mothering blanket of all that is beautiful, feminine, gentle and sensual. That's exactly what she presents to me here. There's no fear here. Standing at attention, ready for my mouth, is the cock of a true lady.

Placing my lips around the head, my first impression is how velvety soft the skin feels in my lips. I've always known of hard cocks, and this is no exception. Its structural integrity is sound, yet its texture in my mouth has a gentle softness that makes me think of velvet, perhaps even soft flower petals. God creates lovely contrasts within everything. This sculptural artwork comes close to the real thing. I tongue around the sensitive area under the head. She moans.

Taking her meat further into my mouth, I'm delighting in how full my mouth feels, with my lips wrapped around her shaft. I lift my hand and caress her balls. I start moving her cock in and out of my mouth, deeper and deeper into the back of my throat. There's a strange taste of electric, almost the same kind of electric taste of a lady's clit nearing orgasm.

I'm going to do this right. Pushing myself mentally and physically, I shove her whole length into my face, her velvet head passing the swallowing gateway into my throat. She's pushing down my neck now. I can feel her moving in and out. My held breath won't last long.

How do other women do this? I've never sucked a cock before. It's odd that I didn't gag. One magazine article said men feel flattered when a lady gags, but if I start that now it might not stop. Her ego shall have to be content with my total submission and servitude.

Her hands are on the back of my head, as I pull out enough to take and hold another breath. I'm not gagging, but I'm generating a lot of saliva. I'm using that to push down onto her, in and out. Her hips are getting into the act. My Sandra is fucking my face, and I love it.

The electric taste is felt even in my throat. It's almost like radio waves sending her pleasure into me. I want her. Oh, I wish she could come down my throat! I so enjoy drinking her from her pussy. I'm content to give her as close to the feeling as possible.

A low, masculine grunting, growling noise erupts from my purple haired alto's mouth. Her hips are quaking. This is her first climax, driven from male centers of her brain that had been a ghost town an hour ago.

Her body is roasting like an infrared outdoor heater. I hold onto her ass, forcing her cock to stay buried deep in my throat until her twitching subsides. Now I finally release her. We're both gasping for breath. I can't believe I've just given my first blowjob...to a fellow lesbian.

Christy already has her dick on. She reaches down to lift Sandra to her feet. Sandra pushes Christy down onto the bed, grabbing me by the arm. She eyes her blonde lover's huge realistic prosthetic cock, turns to me and blows my mind with two words. "Teach me."

I laugh. "That was my first time. I've never done that before."

"Then I'll figure it out myself." Sandra giggles. "I used to think she was a prick. Now she has one, and I'm about to suck it."

And she does. I'm impressed with her technique. I can't believe she hasn't done this before. She gags exactly twice, then never any more. As she's shoving her face around that giant fuck pole between our blonde wife's legs, she squishes her fingers in her own pussy, gathering up lots of juice, then startles Christy with an anal insertion to the knuckle.

Christy screams her climax. Sandra doesn't back off, fucking her ass with her finger while sucking her cock like a madwoman. It almost sounds like Christy is sobbing, but her face shows such joy it's hard to tell what's going on inside her.

Both ladies are breathing hard, catching their breath. Sandra jumps right in. "Were you crying?"

Christy's breath hitches. She blushes and answers. "I was crying, while climaxing. Now I know what it's like to be a girl with a cock. This changes everything. You and Ellie are the first girls with cocks I've ever..."

Our blonde wife loses her ability to speak as Sandra takes her cock down her throat again. My purple haired lesbian may become a cock-sucking queen! My soldier is aching under my thick plaid skirt I wear when I know my arousal would hurt otherwise.

Sandra doesn't take no for an answer, and doesn't know the word 'stop'. She's salivating and sucking on her wife's hard meat, making slurping, sucking noises that go straight to my lady balls. They're aching now.

Christy is a puddle, she's come so many times. She lifts herself with one elbow, eyes lidded over, she coos. "I'm so jealous. I want to be a cock sucker too."