183 - Sticks

183 - Sticks
Camille, feel free to tell me no. We want to revamp your reading nook and make a little nursery for the next generation. - Porthos

Priscilla knew that Camille had a set of encyclopedias that would help her with her final essay about the 1899 Newsboy Strike. When she got the email from her professor giving the subject options, she found herself singing about Santa Fe from the play Newsies. After watching the movie with some of her sisters, she decided that she needed to get busy with her report. Her due date was quickly approaching as was the end of the semester.

Last week, while Geo and Porthos were in town for a day, they had gone with Charlotte, and she had done maternity pictures. Most of them were done by the pond that Momma Becks had loved so much. It offered several scenic backgrounds with just a quick change of the camera’s perspective.

Two small groves of fruit trees flanked a bench that Sticks built in Momma Becks’ memory. A small pasture sat on one side of the trees, the traditional red hay barn barely visible in the background. Then, of course, there was the pond.

She had worn a sheer purple lace robe dress with a skin tone colored bra and thong. Thinking about that day, and the activities that followed, she felt herself growing damp. When she had said something about suddenly being overly horny, Momma T had just laughed.

“Trust me,” she advised her daughter, “your men will not object to the pregnancy horniness. You will have to adjust your preferred positions. And I have no idea how a double or triple penetration will work for you.”

Blushing as she thought about it as she waved at the prospect at the gate to the Shack, Priscilla smiled at the thought of the four of them being together. All three of them were gentle with her. Until she needed more than gentle.

Denver had researched sex chairs and swings, finding one where they could remove the cushioned seat. His favorite snack was still between her legs, and he was there as often as possible. Parking her Jeep, she had to get control of herself as she thought about their activities this morning.

He had pulled her up to their room and placed her tablet on the holder on the post of her four-poster bed. Porthos appeared with a look of pleasure of his face. Before she could ask where Geo was, the camera angle changed and she watched the other man bob up and down as he sucked on the hard cock.

With her focus on the small screen, she was only vaguely aware of Denver removing her clothes. Once his tongue flicked over her clit, her eyes rolled to the back of her head and fisted her hand in his growing hair.

The baby shifted and Priscilla had a sudden need to pee, pulling her out of her memories of that morning. “Okay, okay,” she said as she opened the door and slid out of the Jeep. “I’ll quit thinking about your dads.”

She waddled into the Shack and headed straight for the bathroom on the hall with Nessie’s Kitchen. After emptying her bladder, yet again, she grabbed a bottle of water from the dining room. Going down the hall to the back hallway, she heard Cookie and Sticks arguing over something.

“…the shelves only pull out so far before they pull the next one creating stairs for the upper shelves.” Cookie was explaining and she could picture him pulling out the bottom shelves.

“Okay, yeah, that makes sense,” Sticks agreed as Priscilla stepped into the newly transformed space.

The walls were now painted gray and purple stripes that were the width of the shelves that Cookie was showing to Sticks. One row of purple had a small section that was painted with white ivy. The stencil was still taped to the wall, and it looked like what Riffraff’s daughter had used in their nursery.

“What… what’s going on here?”

The two men turned away from the wall of shelves and looked at her with a look of surprise. Looking at his partner in crime, Cookie smirked as he shrugged. Shaking his head, Sticks swore softly.

“Your men wanted there to be a place for you and the baby to get away to, without having to be up in your room all by yourself,” Cookie explained. “It’s been modified so that it’s not tailored strictly to you but can be used by anyone.”

“The crib that I’m putting in here,” Sticks pointed to the floor where there was a box made from blue tape with crib written on the front piece, “is an Easy Adjust. You’ll be able to lift and lower the mattress with one hand. And the front has a gate so that it can be used as a toddler bed also.”

“Since all the shelves can be reached from the middle set of steps,” Cookie explained as he opened the set on the left side, “so that behind the shelves will be storage for diapers and wipes and whatever else you need.”

Unable to stop them, tears started flowing down Priscilla’s cheeks. Moving in towards his cousin’s daughter, who had always claimed him and his brothers as her uncle, Sticks wrapped her up into a tight hug. He kissed the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She clung to the back of his shirt as she buried her face in his chest.

“It’s okay, little pretty,” he assured her softly.

With the ease that came from years of carrying lumber and furniture, he scooped her up bridal style and carried her down the hallway to the main room. He settled them in one of the oversized recliners with her on his lap. Pulling the handle on the side of the black chair, they both laughed when it fell back with a sudden jolt.

“This is the one that your dad always complains about.”

“Yeah,” she agreed as she swiped the tears away. “I’m sorry, I cry so easily these days.”

He chuckled, “I have two kids, you cry as much as you want.”

“Are you ever…”

When it was obvious that she was not going to finish her question, he prodded her, “Am I ever what?”

“Are you ever jealous that neither one of them are yours?”

“You mean biologically?”

“Yeah… I didn’t mean that they weren’t yours.

Her tears started again and he pressed another kiss to the top of her head. He stroked her loose hair away from her face and towards the long braid. Gently he soothed her as she cried.

“To answer your question, no, I’ve never been jealous that Gadget is biologically Mark’s or that Geoff is very obviously Kilo’s.”

“I just don’t want her to be his.”

There was no need to say his name, Sticks knew who she was referring to.

“I know.” He pressed another kiss to her head. “Unless Porthos is her dad, and he’s light enough that even then, you might not know. The only reason we knew about Gadget is because of the blood type.”