Re-Upload: Triangles (Circa 2016. Poly, Romance, LGBT)
(Editor’s Note: I recently uploaded all of Splathouse to the cloud, and this caught my eye in the archive. This was originally uploaded on my now abandoned tumblr during 2016. Enjoy. You’ll likely see a LOT of archived stories for the next few weeks. They’ll vary in quality, as I’m a much better writer now. But I feel they’re worth sharing all the same.-Jack)
Rodger let out a sigh as he opened the door. Hand still gripping the door knob, he bent and placed his suitcase on the floor. He rose, removing his trilby from the top of his head, along with his coat. He almost knocked the coat rack over, but shot a wrist out, steadying it again. He rolled his eyes, and placed a hand on his hip. The other ran through his salt-and-pepper hair, brushing a few curled locks from his sight.
“Margaret!” he boomed, “I’m home!”
His wife Margaret, all plump five foot of her, stuck her head from an arch to the right. She had her smock on, spattered with pastels and more. She pushed her glasses to the bridge of her nose, blowing a long blonde lock from her face. She gave Rodger a warm smile, and said “Hey, you.”
“Hey to you as well,” answered Rodger. He walked towards her, and leaned forward, giving her a quick peck on the check. Margaret’s smile didn’t fall, but she wrinkled her nose.
“You smell like earth. Long day?” she said.
Rodger gave a slow nod, and brought his hands to his eyes. “Fucking unbelievable. So got a call from county, about brass fittings and asbestos. Asbestos in freaking twenty-sixteen. What the shit. So got that cleared out, and of course, the brass started leaking just as we got done. Christ almighty.”
Margaret gave a small frown, and stood on her tip-toes as she kissed him on the cheek. When her feet met the floor, she reached behind and began to untie her smock. As she lifted it over her head, folding it in half, she tilted her head and said “Beer, and chinese take out? In that order, of course?”
Rodger gave a nod, bending to untie his boots. He tossed them near the coat rack, rising to the sound of his spine popping. He tilted his head and glanced pass the arch, into the day room Margaret had converted into a studio. He stepped forward, eyeing the canvas on her paint-splattered easel.
Margaret rounded the arch, a few beers in hand and a menu tucked under her arm. She handed a beer to Rodger, who cracked it open and took a long drink as he stared at the painting.
Margaret, having already opened her drink, took a small sip and eyed her husband.
“Well, what do you think? It’s not done. I’ve still got to do the shadows, and the accent colors. But it’s almost done, and almost is as good as finished. Almost,” she said with a giggle.
Rodger’s eyes glanced over the painting. His hand reached up, stroking his stubble.
“The subject doesn’t quite pop, but the shadows will bring that out. The color choice is excellent, but as always,” he said, turning to her with a smirk, “how such dark shit comes out of such a nice lady blows my mind.”
Margaret wrinkled her nose, and took another drink. She shrugged, and gave a small smile. “It’s for pup. I figured witches and crows were all her bag, so why not?”
Rodger rolled his eyes, and finished his beer. He set it on a nearby brush-laden table, and turned to walk from the room.
“You encourage her too much,” he said, making his way to the living room. Rodger eased himself into his battered, beaten beige chair, closing his eyes as his head met the cushions. Margaret walked in, grabbing their phone from the TV stand. As she punched buttons, she gave a chuckle and eyed her husband.
“Oh, like you don’t. It might be in your way, but you still do,” she said, cradling the phone to her head. Rodger opened an eyelid, a slow grin spreading across his face. As Margaret placed their order, he rose from the chair with a groan. He walked from the living room to the main hall, and looked up their stairs to the second story.
“Pup! Chinese for dinner!” he said, cupping his hand to his face. When he was met with silence, he walked forward and cried out again. Instead of vying for a third time, he gripped the banister and took the stairs, glancing down the hallway with a pant. Pup’s door, adorned with bands that had far too much make-up for Rodger’s taste, was closed. He stepped forward, and gently rapped his knuckles against it.
It was this time, met with silence, that the handyman’s mind flicked towards more sinister machinations. He shook his head and gripped the door knob. He turned it noiselessly, and peered in. The breath that was caught in his throat left on a smile, and he poked his head forward.
Pup, for she’d gone by no other name, lay at the center of a heap of pillows, stuffed animals and blankets all dripped in purple, dark blues and black. Her chest softly rose beneath a strapless top, a tattered black skirt hiding the curves of her hips. Rodger swallowed, and swung the door a bit further. His footfalls barely rustled the carpet as he came forward, and sat on the edge of the bed. Pup inhaled sharply and sat up. She blinked several times, and upon seeing Rodger’s smiling face, gave a small grin of her own. She laid back down, shifting her body closer to him.
Rodger raised a hand, and brushed the hair from her face. “Hey you, chinese for dinner. Wanna ride out with me in a bit?”
Pup gave a small nod and turned her head, opening her eyes just a smidge. She grinned at Rodger, and lifted a blanket, burying herself in covers. Rodger chuckled and rose.
“oh, c’mon you, you’re not gonna make me haul you downstairs, are you? I just got off work!” he said. Pup lifted a pillow, and gave a quick nod. The handyman rolled his eyes, and scooped his arms beneath the girl. Having secured a spot beneath her knees and shoulders, he gave a grunt as he lifted her up. Pup squealed, shifting and clutching at his shirt as he let out another laugh.
“Hey, you said yes. You’re just lucky I didn’t bend you over and pop your bottom.”
Pup pushed her raven-black locks from her face, her cheeks flushed as she stammered “So? I didn’t think you’d actually do it!”
“You never think I’m going to!”
“SO?!”
As Rodger turned, Pup gripping his flannel shirt tighter, he paused when he saw Margaret leaning against the doorway. She had a hand raised to her face, but it did little to hide the hitching of her shoulders as the woman laughed. She pulled her hand away, smiling as she said “Can’t the both of you ever just come down stairs? How come it’s always Rodger hauling you, or picking you up, or-”
Pup, her face crimson, turned and said, “I can’t help that I’ve tiny little bird legs!”
Margaret smirked, and splayed her fingers at her waist.
“You’re taller than me, pup!”
Rodger chuckled, and hauled Pup over his shoulder. His hand clapped across her bottom, and as Pup yelped, he made his way towards the door. When they’d finally made it down stairs, Rodger stood Pup on her feet. She rose to her Tip-toes, and kissed the man upon his cheek. Margaret smiled, and did the same on the other side. Rodger raised his arms, wrapping them around the pair as he gave a squeeze.
“So, when’s the food going to be done?” he said.
“About fifteen,” answered Margaret.
Rodger gave a nod, and looked at Pup.
“You decent enough to go with me?”
Pup smirked, and gave a nod. Rodger lifted his hand and rustled her hair, and said “Wanna go on a trip girl? Huh? Wanna get out?”
Pup chuckled, and let out a “Woof!” as she nodded her head.
“Well, get your shoes on then. I gotta find a pair that ain’t covered in mud. We’ll head out after. And pup?”
Pup lifted her head, eyes wide as she stood still. Rodger crossed his arms, and bent at the waist as he looked at her.
“Don’t forget your collar either, okay?”
Pup paused a moment, raising a hand to her slender throat. She swallowed, her gaze shifting to the floor as she said “Are you, uh, sure? I mean. We’re going to be in public, and-”
“I’m damn sure, and yeah, we’re going to be in public. So what? I ain’t ashamed of who you are. I’m proud,” he said with a grin. Pup smiled, meeting his eyes just a moment before charging back up the stairs. As she met the top, she looked over her shoulder and shouted “Just a sec! I gotta find it!” before dashing into her room.
Rodger watched her with a wide smile. Margaret’s hand met his shoulder, and was followed soon by her head.
“Told you that you encourage her,” she said.
“But it’s my way, and it works just as well. She has been in her room all day?”
Margaret nodded, and pulled her hand away. “Only came out for food and the bathroom.”
Rodger nodded, and pushed a hand into his jeans. Pulling out a keyring, he walked towards the door and searched for his sneakers.
“It’ll do her good to get out then. Poor thing probably needs it,” he said, slipping into his Skechers.
Margaret paused, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her lips pursed for a moment, and she turned her head to her husband. “Um, Rodger? Be good. Don’t, ah, don’t punch anybody over pup, okay?”
The handyman looked over his shoulder with a wide grin, and rose.
“No promises, but I’ll try my best, eh?” he said. Margaret gave a nod, stepping towards him. She rose and kissed him on the lips, wrapping her hands around his thick neck.
“That’s all I ever ask of either of you,” she said, her tongue pressing against his for a moment. One which they held until Pup came scampering back, smirking as she saw the couple embraced. She tiptoed forward, wedging a hand between the both of them.
“Don’t I get some love, too?” she said, her hand flicking against her collar. Both Rodger and Margaret laughed, wrapping their arms around the girl as their lips met her neck and cheek. Pup felt her face grow warm, and reached forward, gripping Rodger’s belt buckle as she let out a low whine. Rodger swatted gently at her hand, and took a step back. Margaret continue to kiss their pet, her lips meeting the girls shoulder as her hand slipped between Pup’s thighs.
“Now girls, dinner first-then dessert. Got it?” said Rodger. Pup pouted, but broke from Margaret. She turned and kissed the woman on the lips, lifting a palm to squeeze the artist’s breasts. Margaret blushed, but pulled away, biting her lip. She waved her hand at the two of them, and said, “Alright you two, go get dinner. C’mon now.”
Rodger gave a nod, and the pair slipped through the door, their faces met by the evening sun.
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The drive there was calm, with Roger smoking Marlboro after Marlboro as he vented to Pup. Pup, rather politely, rolled down the window and nodded her head. They picked up their take out, and returned home to feast with Margaret, who had changed into a silken pink robe. They ate, laughed, and chatted about their day. Pet, despite appearances, had been quite busy writing for her blog. As Rodger listened to his wife and pet compare their mediums, he smiled.
“Ya’ know, you two ought to do a book or something. Bet it’d sell real well,” he said, shoving a fork of noodles into his mouth. Margaret and Pup looked each other a moment, and Margaret sat back, her eyes towards the ceiling.
“Hrm, we could do a kids book. Would that be weird? I mean, with your taste in fashion and the kind of stuff I create, we could maybe do one of those ‘creepy’ books. You know, like ‘Where The Old Gods Are’, something like that? That might work,” she said, raising a glass of wine to her lips.
Pup munched away on an eggroll, and gave a nod as she said “That might work, actually. It would be pretty nice to be published, I’m not going to lie.”
Rodger shrugged, and took a tug from his beer. He pulled the bottle away from his mouth, and eyed the two a moment as he twirled his noodles.
“I mean, I dunno,” he said, “You two spend a lot of time apart. But together? Hell, you’d be unstoppable at whatever you put yourself to, seriously. Better than me and these dumb hands of mine, at any rate.”
Margaret rolled her eyes, and wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her robe. She sat her glass down, and let out a small laugh as she looked at Pup.
“Do you think he’s fishing for compliments, dear? I certainly do,” she said. Pup smirked, and dabbed a napkin at her lips.
“Oh, he totally is. Should we do that thing, finally?”
Rodger looked up, swallowing a mouthful of noodles down. “Um, What thing?” he said, resting his fork on his plate, “What are you two talking about?”
Pup jerked her head, her cheeks red as her eyes met his. She lifted her glass and took a swallow, looking at Margaret, who sat biting her lip.
“Oh, nothing sweety, really,” said Margaret as she lapped at her lips, “but after dinner, why don’t you go take a seat in the living room? Relax. We still got some Angry Orchard in the fridge. And isn’t your fight on tonight? Something like that?”
Rodger paused, his eyes going from Pup back to Margaret. His brow furrowed, but he lifted his fork, grabbing another bite.
“I mean, yeah. I guess I could do that. It’s Delahoya against Holifield, but hell, that shouldn’t last but a few minutes, at most,” he said. Margaret gave a nod and rose, the front of her robe slipping a bit. Pup motioned with her hands, and Margaret pulled her robe shut as she walked into the kitchen, the silk bouncing across her hips with every step. When she returned, Rodger had cleaned his plate. She grabbed it, and sat a frosting beer in front of the man.
“Go relax, dear. You’ve earned it. Uh, Pup? Care to help me with the dishes?”
Pup sat a moment, and stared at Margaret. Then her eyes went wide, and she hurriedly rose, nodding her head. “Uh, yeah. Sure thing. Seriously, go relax, Rodger. It seemed like you had a pretty hard day, annnnd-” she said, glancing at the clock “-Your fight should be on any moment now, right?”
Rodger turned, the wooden chair dragging on the floor as he glanced up. “Shit, it is. Alright, you girls sure you don’t need hel-”
“Nope, we’ve got it all, Honey. Go watch your fight,” said Margaret, glancing at Pup. Rodger stared at the two a moment, but gripped his beer, standing with a grunt as he made his way to the living room. When the TV turned on, Pup tip-toed over to Margaret, her voice low as she said “Is it still in the same place it was when you bought it?”
Margaret grinned, and said “Yep, should be. Go get dressed. I’m already ready. I’ll put these dishes away, and then we’ll spring it on him.”
Pup grinned, and leaned forward, lapping her tongue against Margaret’s cheek. The woman laughed, and jerked her head towards the stairs. “Go, you. Get dressed.”
“Yes ma’am!” said Pup, disappearing in a flurry of black hair as she scampered out the dining room. She stopped near the arch of the living room, peering in at Rodger a moment. Bathed in the flashing lights of the TV, the man’s head laid back against the cushions. His mouth was open and his eyes were closed, but to his credit, he hadn’t spilled his beer yet. Pup smirked, and scampered up the stairs, taking a right as she opened the door to Rodger and Margaret’s room.
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“Rodger? Rodger honey, wake up,”
His eyelids stirred, and Rodger lifted a hand to his eyes, rubbing at them. Suddenly aware he still held a beer, he lifted it to his lips and took a drink. He shut his eyes tight, and as he opened them smiled broadly.
“Well, shit. Am I still dreaming?”
Margaret let out a laugh, clasping her wrist. She stood clad in a mesh, deep crimson bra, her hips accentuated by a thin red robe that slung between her thighs. In truth, what she was wearing could barely be described as “underwear”, much less any other kind of clothing. But Rodger didn’t care. It clung to his wife, and he leaned forward, slipping an arm around her waist. She stepped forward, letting out a slight moan as her husband cupped her supple ass, kissed her navel and nipped at her skin. Her hands lifted as her fingers pushed through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lip as her heart beat against her ribs.
“Wait, Rodger, that’s not-oh, wait! Wait just a moment, there’s more,” she said, breaking from him. Rodger sat back in his chair, his jeans already tenting stiffly. He raised an eyebrow. Margaret smirked, and lifted her hand towards the archway.
Pup, face flustered and hair pulled into a bun, had been watching them from the doorway. She smiled, and stepped from behind the wall. Her outfit mirrored Margaret’s, the girls cock peeking from the top of her panties, firm and throbbing before the couple. She stepped towards Margaret, who wrapped an arm around her. She lifted Pup’s chin with her palm, opening her mouth and kissing the pet deeply. Pup shuddered, her knees quivering in Margaret’s hold as the woman pulled her lips away. With Pup already panting, Margaret turned towards her husband, who sat with his eyes wide as he watched them.
“Well, still worried about what those ‘big, dumb hands’ can do? Hrm? Because I think we’ve got plenty of work for them. Isn’t that right, Pup?”
“Uh-huh!” said the pet, gasping as she dropped to her knees, pressing her lips to Margaret’s skin. As her face met between the woman’s thighs, she turned to Rodger, smiling as she kissed his wife’s cunt.
Rodger smirked, drained his beer and sat the bottle down with a slam. He rose, pulling his work shirt from his frame as he tossed it over his shoulder. Bare chested, he gave a shrug and laughed.
“Let’s see about clearing out those pipes, eh?” he said. The women both let out a groan at the joke, one that soon gave way to moans, gasps and appeals to god as the handyman dropped his pants and went to work.
It was a job he took great pride in.
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