Dickins Family Fun

Warnings: Despite the name, this story does not contain any incest. This chapter does feature a bisexual MMF threesome.

This story is copyright 2018 by TheElderWyrm and 2025 by NaughteeDragon. I am the author in both cases. All characters are fictional and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Names of places or things are covered under fair usage.

All characters engaging in sexual acts or behaviors are at least 18 years of age.

A/N: A huge thank you to Fatdog25 for his beta and editing work.

This story is set in the early to mid-2000's, before the first iPhone, before50 Shades of Greybrought BDSM into the general zeitgeist, and before polyamory was a broadly understood concept.

Dickins Family FunChapter 3- Coming TogetherBy NaughteeDragon

Dickins Family FunChapter 3- Coming TogetherBy NaughteeDragon

Bill was setting the table when the doorbell rang. He didn't even need to glance at his watch to know what time it was, or who would be at the door. Bill took a deep breath, and drew himself up. Normally, the person at the door would have just knocked twice in rapid succession and come on in. Apparently, he felt, like Bill, that this night was unlike any other and that everything would be very different.

"Hello, James," Bill said as he opened the door. By unplanned coincidence, James and Bill were both dressed up. James's stark black slacks, white shirt, and Malaysian silk tie stood in sharp contrast to Bill's varying tones of blue. In his hand, James bore a towel-wrapped bottle of wine.

"Bill," James said, inclining his head. "How are you?" The two men were rarely so formal with one another, but it seemed appropriate.

"I'm good. Glad you could make it." Bill stepped aside and invited James in. "Jane's in the kitchen. She pulled out all the stops; cooking and everything." James raised an eyebrow. Jane in the kitchen was fairly rare, Bill was the day-to-day cook in the house. "Have you, uh, decided yet?" Bill asked as he fidgeted with his tie and ran his fingers through his hair.

James pulled out a chair and motioned for Bill to sit. "You've had a week to think about it. Is it going to be a problem if I do? Is it going to change our relationship as friends? Will you stop talking to me?"

Bill folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "James, you and I have been friends for so long that I don't have memories of before we met. You were the best man at my wedding and you're my brother-in-law. I wouldn't ever stop talking to you. Does this make me a little nervous? Yeah, it does; but just because I don't know what to expect." Bill paused and ran his hand through his hair again. "I will say that I probably won't do anything to you. I can let you touch and stuff, but I'm not sure I can make myself do that for you. If you doing it really bothers me, I'll let you know."

James stood and put a hand on Bill's shoulder. "You're a good friend, a damn good friend." He clapped Bill on the back and headed for the kitchen. Bill watched his friend pause in the doorway for a fraction of a second to admire Jane. He couldn't blame him, it had taken all of Bill's self-control not to grab his wife and fuck her on the table when she'd finally come downstairs to get his opinion.

Her curly hair had been pulled up in combs with ribbons that matched the shimmering purple cocktail dress that she wore; a layered skirt with a lace overlay. The stockings and heels had been the perfect touch.

"You look very fetching this evening." James' voice sounded awed and Bill approved of his friend's reaction. Bill walked over to the kitchen so he could watch them.

Jane was blushing slightly when she turned to see them both watching her. She gave him an embarrassed smile, and accepted the kiss James placed on her cheek. "Thank you, James." She kissed his cheek before taking the bottle of wine he presented her with. "You look very dashing as well."

The oven timer went off and Jane almost dropped the bottle of wine. "A little nervous?" James asked.

"A bit, you?"

"Yeah. Tell you what, give me something to do and let's get through dinner. Everything else will take care of itself later." She put a bowl of salad in his hands. Bill let his friend pass and collected wine glasses to go with the rest of the place settings.

Dinner was a pleasant affair. They talked about James's plans to retire from professional soccer and his desire to join the state's Criminal Investigation Division or the Maricopa County Sheriff's Department. Bill talked about the ASU women's basketball team and the unlikelihood of making it into the regional tournament at the end of the season. Jane chatted about some of the interesting cases in her office, but avoided the case she was working on. They all studiously avoided the topic of what they were there to do.

**

Jane grabbed her napkin and pressed it to her chin. She returned the half-eaten chocolate-covered strawberry to her plate and wiped away the cream that had dripped from her mouth and onto her dress. James was trying hard not to laugh. She was trying not to cry. She excused herself from the table and almost ran to the powder room.

"Damn!" she said as she looked at the spot on her dress. There was a huge cream and strawberry juice stain on the lace of her V-neck. She tried to wipe it off, but it stubbornly wouldn't come out. She could feel the tears of frustration in the back of her eyes. She had tried so hard; she had wanted tonight to be perfect. She wanted to be appealing to James. She wanted to exude that sexuality that would draw him to her. Why couldn't she capture it when she really needed to?

Jane wiped at her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. She almost cried again when she looked in the mirror; her eyes were red and puffy. There was a soft knock, and the door opened. Bill squeezed in behind her and closed the door. She felt his long arms wrap around her waist and his lips nuzzle their way onto her neck. "Are you okay, honey?" She nodded, but said nothing.

"Do you want to back out?" Bill asked in a quiet voice, full of concern. She shook her head. She wanted to do this; she didn't want to chicken out now. She watched her husband in the mirror, taking in his pale, handsome face and his short orangish-red hair. She loved the way the freckled skin of his pale arms looked against the deep purple of her dress and the black of her skin. She watched his head dip to kiss her and she almost shivered in anticipation.

His lips opened and wrapped around a sensitive spot just below her left ear. His hands ran over the narrow flare of her hips and down her legs. When they came back up, her skirt rode up and she felt his warm hands on the bare flesh of her legs above her black stockings. He sucked on her neck just a bit, enough to elicit a soft moan of gratification.

"You look beautiful tonight," he rumbled into her neck. He turned her around and cradled her face in his hands. "Stop trying so hard. You don't have to act like a sex kitten to be one." He pressed his lips to hers then pulled away. "Just calm down and everything will take care of itself."

He trailed several kisses across her face and neck. When he stopped, his lips were in the hollow of her neck, his hips were between her legs, and she was sitting on the sink. She had no idea how she had gotten there.

"See?" he said with a smile. "It will happen on its own." He looked around the small room. "Although the powder room is not the most romantic of settings and might be a bit small for the three of us." She leaned her forehead against his shoulder and chuckled. She could always count on him to make her laugh when she needed it. "Now, wash your face, and come out and sit down. Everything will be fine." She looked up at him with a grateful smile. He placed a quick peck on her lips, then slipped back out.

Back at the table, James and Bill were laughing about something when she came into the room. She started to gather the dessert dishes, but Bill stopped her. "Sit down, honey. I got this." Bill quickly gathered the dishes and cleared them away. It was just her and James now. She stretched out her foot and tried to brush it against his. Her foot didn't caress as much as collide with his. She withdrew her foot with an embarrassed flush. She leaned forward and placed her face in her hands, frustrated that this seemed to be so hard.

She heard his footsteps come around the table. "Jane, do you remember the first time you ever kissed me?" She felt his hands come to rest on her shoulders. He was warm, his hands heavy and reassuring as they began to knead her muscles. His voice was deep, and she could almost feel his gaze on the back of her head.

"Do you mean when I kissed you on the cheek? It was when you told us about Jenny being kidnapped." There had been a few times she had kissed him on the cheek. That was the first time she remembered doing it.

He ran his fingers up the sides of her neck and over her ears. "You know, I never returned that kiss." She felt his breath, hot and scented with wine as it wafted over her cheek. His lips were light as they brushed against her skin, then touched her again, and again, and then one more time as they came to rest against her neck. She was caught somewhere between melting and shivering. When his fingers trailed past the short sleeves of her dress and over the dark skin of her arms, her blood caught fire.

She leaned her head to the side and let James trail several lingering kisses down her neck and across her shoulder. She reached up and ran her fingers through the back of his hair and pulled him against her. She heard herself let out a soft moan. He ran his tongue across the back of her neck. She rolled her head to the other side and let James continue to work his magic on her.

She shivered when his lips vacated her skin, and he blew over the dampness his tongue had left behind. She felt her chair being pulled back, and fingers slipped under her hand and raised it up. "Coming, my dear?" she heard Bill ask her.

"Not yet," she answered with a cheeky smile. She allowed Bill to pull her up out of the chair and into his embrace. His lips were strong against her own, unlike the gentle lips that were on the back of her neck. She felt hands wandering over her; down her flanks, over her breasts, around her waist, along her cheek. She couldn't keep track of them all as they raked and stroked, pinched and caressed, groped and massaged.

Then there were the kisses. Her lovers seemed to be communicating in ways she didn't understand; their moves were almost in perfect synchronization. She would feel Bill's tongue wrestle with her own, then withdraw. He would kiss across her cheek and down her throat. Then she would be turned just a little, James's teeth would abandon her ear and his lips would find hers. Her head was spinning so fast she could barely even respond to one sensation before it was replaced by something new.

She grabbed a tie, she was so overloaded she wasn't even sure whose it was, but she yanked on it and tore at the knot. When it was loose, she pulled the owner down and crushed her lips to his. His hand wrapped around the back of her head and returned the force. Her tongue shot forward, the mouth pulled at it and sucked on it deeply. She knew that mouth. She ran her fingers into his hair and found that she was right.

Then she felt a draft of cold air on her back and realized her zipper was open. Then her dress was in a puddle on the floor. "Purple is definitely your color," James growled in her ear. She broke her kiss with Bill and leaned her head back into James.

"You really think so?" she tried to ask as his tongue entered her mouth. Bill's lips were in her cleavage now, his hands on her hips, and her bra was falling to the floor. She realized that there was one distinct disadvantage to there being four hands on her. She couldn't keep track of them all. Then she felt hands under her legs and she was airborne. "Oh my God!" she cried out as her back came to rest on the cold, wooden table. It wasn't really all that cold, but it was quite a bit colder than she was.

Then there were lips on her breasts, one set for each. She opened her eyes to see who was where, trying to get a sense of what each lover was doing to her. Bill was being the gentle one now; his kisses light and his tongue playful as it flicked at her nipple. James was a little more aggressive, pulling on her as he nibbled. She decided that this must be the reason breasts came in pairs and moaned as she pulled them both against her.

She grabbed James and pulled him up. She yanked his shirt-tails from his pants and fumbled with the buttons as he ran fingers over her lips. "Off," she growled as she yanked at a button.

"Good girl," James said as he pressed his lips to hers while taking off his shirt. She entwined her fingers from one hand in James's hair as she kissed him with reckless abandon. Her other hand pulled Bill's mouth hard to her chest as he sucked most of her breast into his mouth. Then Bill arched and moaned, his finger tweaked the stiff nipple it was playing with, and his body went rigid. It was the same reaction he normally gave when she reached into his underwear and squeezed his cock, but her hand was nowhere near his prick. Jane broke the kiss with James.

"What was that?" she asked breathlessly.

It was like a splash of cold water. Bill released her nipples and stood up. James sat down.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Bill accused.

"Tell me what?" Jane asked in confusion.

"Did it bother you, Bill?" James wouldn't look up and meet her gaze.

"Surprisingly, no." Jane snapped her head around to look at her husband.

"One of you two want to tell me what is going on here? And someone give me my dress." She was suddenly very conscious of the fact that she was lying on the dining room table in her knickers.

"You gonna tell her, or am I?" Bill asked, giving James a hard, accusing look.

"I will," James replied.

James' expression was serious, but also apologetic. It didn't match the flush of excitement that colored his skin. Bill helped her down off the table and handed her the purple dress, which she clutched to her chest. James raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she sat down opposite him.

"You know Jane.. I, that is to say, we, Bill and I... and... well, I..."

"James, this is going to take all night if you try to use my word skills," Bill said, half-joking.

"It'll take even longer if you keep interrupting him." Jane shot back without looking away from James.

"He's right, though," James said. He took a deep breath and looked her square in the face, his eyes looking into hers. "When Bill asked me about this, I told him if I did this, that I wanted to be able to touch him as well as you."

Jane felt her dress slipping from her fingers; she yanked it back up. "James, you're...bi?" She turned to Bill, stung by the fact that he hadn't told her. "And you two planned this out and you couldn't tell me? What about you?" Her whole world was coming apart at the seams.

"Honey, I-" Bill started to apologize but stopped. No apology could cover this kind of secret.

"Jane, don't be angry with Bill. This was my fault. I was supposed to tell you before we started. Things just got... carried away."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she said to Bill, suddenly feeling keenly isolated.

"I should probably go," James said, picking up his shirt from the floor.

"Sit tight," Bill replied.

"Why?" Jane asked her husband, begging him for an answer that would make sense of all of this. That James might be bisexual was barely a consideration. She had built a life on knowing Bill and what he stood for, his honesty and loyalty, and she could not understand why he would keep such secrets from her; especially in light of their recent deep honesty and openness with one another.

"Because I asked him," James interjected. "I asked him, on our friendship, not to say anything to you." Jane turned to look at James now, her eyes riveted to his face. James had invoked the one thing that would keep Bill silent, and for just a fraction of a second, she hated James for using that leverage.

"To answer your first question, I'm not bi. At least I don't think so. I'm just curious what it would feel like to... touch... another man; blame Dick and Bob." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "You and Bill are the only people I would trust with that knowledge, other than Jenny." James reached across the table and indicated he wanted Jane's hand. She gave him one, but held her dress in place with the other.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." The apology came from the depths of his soul, she could see that. "Don't be mad at Bill, though. He wanted to tell you, he really did. He said not telling you was harder than letting me touch him like that."

"Is that true?" Bill nodded to her. "And you're not going to abandon me for... Justin?" she seemed to pull the name out of the air. Justin was their interior decorator when they bought the house, he was a friend of the family.

"Not hardly," Bill laughed. "No, honey, I am not going to turn you over for Justin." He took a deep breath and a serious expression settled over him. "I'm doing this for James. He is the only person that could ask this and not get punched in the face." He reached out and settled his hand over hers and James's. "And this is a secret that does not go beyond the three of us. Well, except for Jenny, I guess."

She smiled, this was the man she knew and loved, always providing for his loved ones; whatever they needed. She looked at James, who looked calm again. She took a deep breath and considered the situation; if they were okay with this, she could be okay with it.

Bill was rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand; James was tracing lines in her palm. Flickers of sensation began running up her arm and triggering memories of sensations elsewhere. Now she just had to figure out how to communicate to them that she was okay and wanted to try again.

"You're right, this is just for the three of us. But if we are all supposed to be equal in this, how is it I'm the only one in my knickers?"

"What are you still doing in your panties?" James asked with a sly grin as he pulled their hands toward him and kissed them. She withdrew her hand and, with an innocent smile, bolted for the bedroom.

**

"Shall we go after her?" James asked Bill. Bill thought for a moment: they could follow like she wanted, or they could stay out here and let her curiosity get the better of her. On the other hand, there was a lot more room in a king-size bed than there was on the dining room table. Bill stood and pulled off his shirt.

"Let's go, my wife awaits us." Bill dropped his pants to the floor, so that he was now clad only in his black, silk boxers. James followed suit, revealing a pair of fire engine red, men's Speedos. "Jesus, mate. How the hell do you keep those things on?"

"Special occasions only," James replied. "They make a hell of a first impression."

"I should say so. Hell, I'm impressed and this is hardly the first time I've seen you in your skivvies." James shrugged it off with a chuckle in the way that only friends with years of history can.

When the two men arrived in the bedroom, there was no sign of Jane. James started to say something, but Bill shushed him and pointed to the bed. He then motioned, indicating James should go around to the far side.

Once they had taken up their positions, they yanked the covers down to reveal Jane lying there, still in her light purple lace panties and garter with black stockings. The two jumped into bed on either side of her and pulled the covers back over themselves. Jane giggled in the confined darkness, but it quickly changed to a sigh.

Bill nuzzled his lips into her neck and reached down to drift his hand casually up her leg. When he reached her crotch, he found another hand had already taken up residence there. It squeezed and rubbed her, but had not yet slipped beneath the material blocking access to the treasures within.