Tres Amantes - M/L/Z - ADULT {COMPLETE}

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Tres Amantes - M/L/Z - ADULT {COMPLETE}

Post by Breathless » Sun Mar 07, 2004 5:47 am

Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Categoy: Max/Liz/Zan
Rating: ADULT

Author note: First off, I need to say that it feels really weird posting something on THIS board. UC is NOT my normal flavor, but Zan has kind of gotten under my skin lately. Anyone who is reading Aftermath probably can understand why. My good friend BelevnDreamsToo inspired me to write this story, so she’s my muse on this one. This is dedicated to her.

Here's the background. This fic is inspired by Aftermath, and the sexual tension that Zan creates in that story, but it is in no way connected to Aftermath. This is more of a Meet the Dupes/Max in the City fic, a “what if Zan didn’t die under the wheels of that truck” fic. The first part is basically a Zan POV, which is something else unusual for me. I don’t usually do POV’s. I’m planning just 5 parts, or vignettes.

To tell you the truth, I wrote this for J (BelevnDreamsToo), and I never intended to post it, but she talked me into it. It was supposed to be a one parter only, but she’s twisted my arm to write more. I’m glad she did. I hope you will be too. If you don't, blame her! (Just kidding)

Disclaimer: The author of this fan fiction does not own any aspect of Roswell. Those rights belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB, UPN, 20th Century Fox, etc. Disclaimer added by moderator.

My Spanish is more than a little rusty, but hopefully the title means what I think it means: Three Loves, or Three Lovers, either one works for me.

Edited to say, Lullaby informed me Tres Amantes is the correct Spanish translation for Three Lovers, and Tres Amores means Three Loves. I think Tres Amantes is a more fitting title for the story, so I'm changing it. Thanks, Lullaby!

I hope you enjoy. . .

Tres Amantes

The Bond

He stands in the shadows, a lone figure in the dark, with only the glowing tip of his cigarette giving away his location. He takes another drag, drawing in the smoke, feeling his lungs expand with it, then lets it out slowly in a controlled exhalation while he waits. He knows he shouldn’t be here, that he’s only torturing himself, but he can’t help it. The draw to be with her is so strong.

He remembers the first time he felt it, that strange sensation inside him. Perhaps it had always been there, that underlying sense that something else was out there, leaving him restless and incomplete without it, but until he came to Roswell there was no name for it. One look was all it took, though. One look at her and all the pieces fell into place.

He came to Roswell to exact revenge – to make Lonnie and Rath pay for what they did to him. Lonnie’s plotting. Rath’s hand on his back pushing him into the street. Both of them responsible for his murder. Only, unbeknownst to them, he hadn’t actually died. He’d crawled back into the sewers and holed up while he healed, and then followed them, intent on making them suffer for their treachery. But by the time he reached Roswell, they’d already done their damage and returned to New York with the King in tow.

It hadn’t taken long to track down Rath’s and Lonnie’s duplicates. They tried to hide in the background, but Roswell was a small town, not easy to get lost in. He had to change his own appearance – shave off the goatee, cut the hair, remove a few of the tattoos and piercings – so he wouldn’t stand out like a sore thumb until he was ready to be seen.

He had every intention of following Rath and Lonnie back to New York to make them pay for their crimes against him – until he walked by the Crashdown and saw her, turning out the lights, locking the front door, looking wistfully through the glass for something, or someone. And in that moment, everything changed for him. Revenge no longer mattered. The fight for control of a world light years away became inconsequential. Maybe it was his link to the King that caused it. Or maybe it was chemical. Whatever the reason, he was lost to her the moment he saw her.

From that moment on, he followed her, studied her, learned everything there was to learn about her. Her name was Liz Parker. Her parents owned the Crashdown. She was an honor student at West Roswell High, President of the Science Club, future Valedictorian, all things he couldn’t relate too – he grew up on the streets, lived in the sewers, never went to school or attended church – but still, the instant connection he felt toward her was undeniable, like a blind man suddenly being able to see.

Deeper than attraction, stronger than desire, she made him feel things – things he’d never experienced before. Like the way his stomach churned at just the sight of her. Or how his heart raced at the sound of her voice. Or how he cried inside to see her look so sad. He watched her during the day, as she worked in the restaurant, or went shopping at the store, or sat in a classroom at school. And at night he studied her face as she slept, wondering who she dreamed of.

The answer to that question came too fast, crashing into his fantasies. His double, Max Evans, the true King of Antar returned from New York, shattering all of his illusions. He’d been there, hiding in the shadows when Max climbed the balcony wall and entered her bedroom. He’d overheard their muffled conversation, seen the hurt in both their eyes – and the longing. With just one look it was obvious that their hearts belonged to each other, even though their minds were fighting it. Something had come between them, but it wouldn’t stand for long. A love like that couldn’t be kept apart.

They’d proven him right later that night. Max Evans paced up and down the street across from the Crashdown while he hid in the shadows, waiting to see what would happen. If the King would just go away, then maybe he’d have a chance, but it wasn’t meant to be. He watched Max combat some inner conflict, then with squared shoulders and determination, the King crossed the street and climbed the ladder to her balcony.

He followed shortly after, unable to stay away. Their hushed conversation reached him through the open window.

“Liz, there’s something I need to say to you, so just hear me out . . . What happened, between you and Kyle, it doesn’t change anything for me. I’ve always loved you, Liz. I always will. But if you want me to go away, I will.”

“Max –”

“Please, let me finish. When I saw you on the street, in New York, it all became so clear. Being there with Tess – please, Liz, don’t turn away. I need to tell you this . . .”

“Okay . . .”

“When I look at you, you make me feel things no one else can. Maybe Zan loved Ava in that other life, but I’m not Zan. I can’t ever be him. I know you think you were doing the right thing when you pushed me to be with Tess, but that’s not my life. That life ended on another planet. We’re different people here.”

“But what about your destiny?”

“I told you before, my destiny is with you. But – but if that’s not what you want, then I’ll understand, and I’ll leave you alone. I won’t ask for something you can’t give. But I just want you to know, if ever you decide – I’ll be waiting.”

“But what about Tess?”

“Tess knows how I feel. I’ll never love her, not the way I love you. Liz . . . don’t cry . . .”

As he watched from the shadows, what happened next was an eye opener, in more ways than one. An outlandish story came out, of time travel and worlds at war and unbelievable sacrifices, but through it all he had no doubt what she said was true. His double knew it too. When the story ended, a new one began, though this one wasn’t spoken. It started with a kiss.

He watched the King claim his mate, their lips touching softly at first, but the love between them was too strong to contain. Their kisses deepened. Their touches turned from tentative to desirous. His hand fisted around the fabric of her shirt to pull her closer, her arms wound around his shoulders so he couldn’t get away. Zan watched spellbound as they gave in to an unstoppable force.

At the time he knew he should leave, that it was wrong to watch such an intimate moment unfolding before him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Max’s hands inched under her shirt, touching her skin, thumbs on her ribs, palms touching her sides, fingers on her back. His hands didn’t stay in one place long, inching higher under her shirt until Max reached the places he himself craved to touch. His hand cupped her breast intensifying their contact, electrifying the scene playing out in front of him.

Max’s shirt landed on the floor first, but hers soon followed. The King’s larger body shielded much of what Zan wanted to see, but he saw enough to make him quiver with his own desire. A glimpse of her nipple rising to a sharp peak in the center of her breast. The delicate curve of her back leading down to the twin dimples just above her ass. He wished the hand lifting her up was his own hand, wished the naked hips her legs wrapped around were his hips, wished the arms laying her body across the bed were his arms.

From his vantage point in the shadows he could see it all, almost like he was there with them. The way her eyes looked into his. The way her mouth feasted on his lips. The way her legs spread to welcome him. Their naked bodies moved together, slowly at first, unaware of anyone watching them. Zan witnessed the experience with them; Liz’s brief moment of pain, Max’s shuddering breath as he slipped deeply inside her. Their sounds filled the air, groans of pleasure mixing with moans of desire, wet kisses and even wetter bodies pounding together. The end came quickly, their first union too feverish to be contained, Liz crying out in pleasure, Max exploding with sensation, Zan shuddering as a wet stain spread across the front of his pants.

In the afterglow Max clutched Liz to his body, still buried deep inside her, unwilling or unable to let her go. Liz stroked his face with her fingertips, his lips with her thumb, toyed with the damp strands of hair at the nape of his neck, whispering words that only Max could hear. Zan stood on the outside feeling alone.

The next day, after a sleepless night of inner turmoil, he vowed to leave Roswell but fate had a way of intervening. His bag was packed, his ride scoped out, his return to New York impending, when two familiar faces rolled into town. Rath and Lonnie, riding a souped up Trans Am, intent on making the King see things their way.

The bond that had been forged the night before between Max Evans and Liz Parker was evident to anyone who looked, and Rath and Lonnie were no exception. They went after Liz to make Max cater to their whims.

That’s when he revealed himself, aligning with the King. There’d been an awkward moment as they adjusted to his perceived resurrection, but they welcomed his inclusion into the group. Rath’s dupe Michael hadn’t wanted to, but Liz said he was trustworthy and her word held weight. He didn’t know why she felt that way, or why she kept watching him when she thought he wasn’t looking, but it warmed him deep inside.

When Rath and Lonnie made their move he’d been waiting for them. Their surprise at his survival proved the edge he needed to gain the upper hand. Their demise was long and painful, and something the others were better off not knowing the details of.

Now that it was over, it was time for him to move on. He’d taken the King aside that afternoon and told him of his plans to leave the following morning. Ava was already gone, out there making her way in the world, it was his time, too, no matter how much he wanted to stay.

Now, standing here in the dark outside the Crashdown, he wants to take it back. He wants to stay, but he doesn’t know if they want him. The signals are confusing. He feels Liz’s eyes on him sometimes, studying him as he has studied her while she sleeps. She’s up there now, but not alone, and not sleeping. He’s up there with her, Max the King. He wants to leave, but he can’t. He needs to see her one more time.

He crushes his cigarette with the toe of his boot and steps into the light of a nearby streetlamp. He will never be mistaken for the King. His hair is too long, his cheeks too thin, his life indelibly written on his face. He’s the defect, the reject, left to grow up in the sewers.

He crosses the street and closes his hand around the first rung, climbing up slowly and steadily, one rung at a time. He senses them before he sees them, knows what they’re doing but can’t turn away. He climbs over the balcony and silently makes his way to the open window. When he looks inside, what he sees feels like agonizing torture.

Their golden skin glows in the candlelight that flickers around the room. They stand by the bed, Max behind her, Liz facing the window. He kisses her throat. His hands caress the flat expanse of her stomach. She leans back into him, moaning softly as he lifts his hands to cup her breasts.

Zan sees her nipples rise to sharp points, can almost feel them on his palms. Max squeezes her breasts, stimulates her nipples between his fingers, drops one hand lower to the cleft at the top of her legs. His fingers furrow through the trim hair, eliciting another moan of pleasure from her lips.

Zan wishes it was his fingers touching her, stimulating her, wet with her desire. He can almost feel it, the silky beads of her arousal flowing over his skin. The sight of her arouses him, filling him with more desire than he’s ever felt before. He shifts uncomfortably, but he can’t take his eyes from her.

Her body quivers under Max’s attention. Zan sees it clearly, wishes it was him bringing her to climax. When she comes down she turns to face Max, kisses him, then leads him to the bed. She lies back on the sheets, opening up for him – for them – to see. Max has other ideas, though. He scoops his hands under her thighs and pulls her to the edge of the bed. He kneels down in front of her, kissing up the inside of her thigh until he reaches her apex. Max seems content to please her, ignoring the growing ache between his legs, an ache that Zan feels too.

Max separates her folds with his thumbs revealing her hidden treasure. Her scent reaches Zan through the window making his cockhead weep for her. Max licks at her with his tongue, taking his sweet time to bring her to climax again. It’s all Zan can do to keep from climbing through that window to join them.

When Liz’s thrashing calms, Max takes a position on the bed, sitting on the edge, giving Zan his first unrestricted view of his doppelganger’s rigid cock. Not that he needs to see it to judge his rival, they are, after all, mirror images. What he sees next is nearly his undoing as Liz swings a leg over to straddle Max’s hips. His large hands steady her as she slowly lowers her body onto his. When she rises moments later his double’s shaft glistens with her juices.

His own cock throbs from wanting attention. He touches himself through his jeans, gritting his teeth to keep from stroking himself. On the bed Liz pushes Max onto his back, taking complete control of their lovemaking. She rides him hard, pumping up and down on his rigid cock until Max cries out in release. She collapses onto his chest and rests there, both of them breathing hard from their exertions.

Zan half expects them to sleep now but they surprise him. When their breathing calms Max appears ready to go again. He rolls Liz onto her back with fluid grace, spreading her legs with his knees to gain better access. His hips piston slowly at first, and then with rising speed as he picks up momentum. His arms hold him aloft so he can see the passion he elicits on her face. His heavy balls slap against her with each deep thrust.

Her silken juice coats Max’s cock and dribbles down his inner thighs. Zan sees it and wants to be a part of it. He needs to find a release of his own but he can’t leave. He can’t walk away from this. Instead he unzips his pants and gives in to temptation. His hand pumps his shaft in rhythm with what he’s watching. His balls tighten with impending orgasm just as Max’s do. His cockhead swells releasing beads of pre-ejaculate. His orgasm hits just as Max’s does, masking the sound of his own primal cry. Streams of his semen shoot into the air in pulsating bursts while Max’s fill Liz’s inner chambers. Their joint orgasms carry them to new highs and when it passes they’re left drained, Max collapsing on to Liz, and Zan left out in the cold.

Shame fills him for intruding into their privacy; this scene wasn’t meant for prying eyes. But he isn’t sorry he was here to witness it. How can he regret a sight so beautiful to see?

Silence fills the air now, preventing his escape. Even the sound of his zipper sliding closed seems loud enough to wake the dead. He darts a look through the window to make sure he hasn’t been noticed, then freezes at what he sees. Two pairs of eyes staring right at him.

He expects Max to race at him, to kick his ass, to kill him for daring to look at Liz, but Max doesn’t do any of those things. He surprises Zan by just leaning back on his elbows, not even trying to hide his nudity. Liz surprises him even more. She rises from the bed and comes to the window, in all her naked glory.

“Are you gonna come in? We left the window open for you.”

“W – what?” he stutters. His cheeks flame, partly from the sight of her naked presence, partly from the act he’d just performed that he was now certain she knew about, and partly because they left the window open for him. Holy Mother of God!

“It’s up to you,” she adds, as if he had a say in this. Oh God, were they giving him a say in this?

Max rises from the bed and joins Liz at the window. He wraps his arms around her to make sure she’s not cold. Zan knows this because it’s what he would have done in Max’s shoes, but that thought only reminds him that Max isn’t wearing shoes. Or anything else.

“Why?” he asks, looking back and forth between the bonded couple. It’s obvious they love each other. He can see it in their eyes, and in the way they touch, like they can’t bear to be apart. Why would they leave the window open for him?

“Why?” Max echoes, and then looks down at the woman in his arms. “Because Liz says it’s the right thing to do, and I trust her completely. I know what it’s like to be with her, and I know what it’s like to be without her. She says we’ll be stronger together, and I believe her.”

“But I’m just the reject,” Zan tells them.

“No,” Liz covers his hand with hers. “You’re a part of us. Can’t you feel it?”

Zan realizes he can feel it, he just hasn’t understood what it meant until now. All the times of feeling something else was out there waiting for him hadn’t been a something, but rather a someone. But doubts still plagued him. Max didn’t seem the sharing type.

“I can feel it,” he says to Liz, and then looks at the King. “But I’m not sure I can believe it.”

“Come,” Liz tugs on his hand to pull him inside. “We’ll show you that you belong with us.”

He gives in because there’s no way he can fight it. His desire to be with her is too strong. He climbs in through the window, pretending the effort is what’s causing his pulse to pound. She takes his hand and leads him to the bed.

He’s conscious of her every movement, the way the candles light her skin, the way her hair falls around her shoulders, the way her hand feels inside of his. When she stops at the bed, she turns and faces him, reaching for his shirt to tug it up and over his head. She drops it on the floor at their feet, leaving him feeling euphoric.

“Liz?” he asks, still not certain of what she expects from him. Is he to be an active participant? Or just an observer?

She ignores his question and undoes his jeans instead.

Again, Zan voices a question he just has to ask. “Why? Why do you want me here?”

He can’t believe he’s asking, but he needs to know. The King seems to defer to her wishes, which is a strange thing, but knowing she’s the one who wants him here fills him with joy, something he’s experienced very rarely in his life.

“I had a dream,” Liz tells him. “A vision.” She looks between him and Max, mirror images but very different.

“A vision?” he asks.

“She gets visions,” Max tells him. His hand wraps around her belly and touches her in a very special place. “When I healed her I changed her. It’s her gift now, to see glimpses of the future.”

“Like Future Max?” Zan asks.

Liz cocks her head and Zan knows he’s given himself away. This isn’t the first night he’s watched them. Now they know it too.

“No, he was real,” she says. “Not a vision. They started after that.” She takes his hands and holds them in hers. She’s standing so close to him the backs of his fingers brush against her belly, low, well below her navel. He can even feel the tight curls of her pubic hair if he stretches out his fingertips.

“My first vision of you was before you came here. I thought it was Max at first, because Ava told us you were dead. But when I saw you the first time, I knew that it was you. You and Max are . . . different.”

Zan looks at Max now and sees it too. Their faces might be the same, the hazel color of their eyes, the freckle on their upper lip, but inside they’re different. They’ve lived different lives. It goes deeper than the tattoo on his right bicep, or his pierced left nipple.

He looks back to Liz, wanting her to tell him more.

“In my vision we’re together,” Liz says, almost as if she’s reading his mind. “The three of us. It forms a power our enemies can’t defeat.”

“So I’m here just because of my power?” he asks, disappointed. He’d hoped for something more.

“No,” she tells him, stepping even closer. Her body heat warms the air around him. Her hands rise up the flat expanse of his stomach making his muscles clench. He touches her naked hips, one hand on each side, urging her even closer. Max stands back, the silent observer now.

“Our powers need to merge,” she tells him, fingering his nipple ring. “There’s only one way to do that.”

Now he thinks he understands. Alien sex will link them together. That’s why they’re allowing him to be here.

Liz looks over her shoulder at Max. “He still doesn’t understand.”

“Go on,” Max tells her. “Tell him everything.”

Zan can see the love in their eyes. He thinks it must be quite a sacrifice to let him in, if only for this one time, to link their powers together. Afterwards, how will he live without her?

“We’ll have to bond,” Liz says, cupping his face with her hand. Her skin feels so soft, so warm, so alive. But how can they bond?

“You’re already bonded. You and Max. I’m,” he shakes his head, “just . . .”

“A part of us,” she tells him, making his heart race. His whole life he’s always felt alone. Now, finally, he thinks he’s found what he was always looking for. To be a part of ‘us’.

“This isn’t a business arrangement,” she tells him. “We can’t force you to do this. It has to be your choice. If we bond,” she lifts his hand to cover her breast, with his palm directly over her heart. “It’ll be forever.”

“You want me?” his voice trembles. “Forever?”

Her answer is a smile. She leans into his chest, kisses him with her soft lips, making him shiver. He looks at the King and has to ask, “You’re okay with this?”

“Can’t you feel it?”

It’s difficult for Zan to feel anything except her lips kissing his skin. Her tongue circles his nipple, leaving a trail of moisture on his flesh as she moves lower, down the ridges of his abdomen. He swallows hard, realizing he does feel something more. Their emotions are bleeding into him as the bond expands to include him, creating as strong a connection with him as they are feeling for each other. He isn’t a reject anymore.

He feels her hands tug at the waistband of his jeans. She pulls his clothing lower, exposing his growing erection, but there’s no embarrassment now. He feels what they feel, that he’s wanted and loved, and for the first time in his life he feels complete. Her hand closes around him, and then her mouth, and all thought leaves him.

He lives purely on sensation now, her tongue teasing him, her hands caressing him. No one has ever touched him like this before, both inside and out. He isn’t even aware of how they end up on her bed, but they’re there now, Liz on her back looking up at him with her deep, dark eyes, Max sitting cross-legged just beyond her, holding her hands above her head to maintain their connection. He’s the watcher now, but later he will join them.

Zan looks down into her eyes ready to lose himself inside her. He sees no hint of rejection; she wants him just as much as he wants her. He can feel it. He slowly lowers his mouth to kiss her first, feeling the rush as their lips touch. Her emotions pour into him, the excitement his touch causes, the love he never realized he inspired. Her hands are occupied so she uses her mind to caress him. He feels her everywhere, inside and out.

Her hips move against his in a silent plea for him to enter her. Her legs spread wide but he must taste her first, everywhere. Her mouth, her eyelids, her throat, the V where her clavicles come together. He kisses his way to her breasts, suckles first one nipple then the other. He’s driving her wild; he knows it by the moans she can’t contain, and by the connection that they share.

His hand covers her stomach. He senses the exact location, the place where Max changed everything. The images wash over him, flashes of the healing, bonding them together. He looks up at Max, understanding him completely now.

“Zan,” Liz cries out, refocusing his attention. He realizes it’s the first time she’s spoken his name since this started and it fills him with joy. He’s not just a replica of Max, but a living, breathing man of his own, with desires and fears and uncertainties.

“Zan,” she says his name again, looking deeply into his eyes. “I need you.”

He hears the way she stresses ‘you’. She wants him. She needs him. She loves him. Zan, with no last name. He loves her too, and he can’t wait another moment. He’s not as gentle as Max. With one thrust he buries himself inside her. A collective gasp fills the room, Zan, Liz, and Max, all crying out as they are joined. They all feel the bond cementing.

Zan lifts his weight from Liz, realizing Max needs to be a part of this, even though he’s passively watching. He pulls back, exposing the slick shaft of his cock, then slams home again. Her thighs sweat against his thighs, her juice floods over his balls, all driving his frenzy to mate with her. His pistoning hips drive his cock deep, then nearly all the way out, exposing his generous length for all of them to see. His orgasm is fast approaching, he knows his first time with her won’t last long. Max senses it too and knows Liz isn’t ready yet. He scoots closer to them and releases one of Liz’s hands. He reaches between their gyrating bodies and fingers her swollen clit, giving her the extra push she needs.

Moments later their orgasms explode together. Liz cries out in pleasure, shuddering as Zan slams into her g-spot and Max fingers her clit to climax, engulfing her whole body in a tidal wave of blissful sensation. Zan feels it sweep into him, triggering his own violent release. His semen bursts from his cock, so much it fills her insides and bubbles out, leaving a growing puddle on the bed. Each orgasmic pulse builds on another until he’s left a shuddering mass, with no sense of time or space or self, only knowing it’s them now, the three of them, bonded together. Max isn’t left wanting, either. He feels what Zan and Liz are feeling. Her left hand is still firmly grasping his, but her free hand had found his straining cock sometime in the last few minutes and that was all it took. She pumped him to completion, until he joined their climax with a geyser of his own, pulse after pulse shooting into the air, hitting his chest, his stomach, her hair, splashing onto her face. The final bursts dribble down the length of his massive erection, coating her hand and dripping onto the sheets. When it’s over he falls backwards onto the bed, exhausted by their joining.

For minutes they can’t move, a mass of arms and legs tangled together. Zan rouses first, afraid his weight is too much for her. He pulls his softening cock from her warm body, hissing as the cooler air hits his sensitive head. He rolls to her right, but not far away from her. He needs to still feel her touch.

Max takes the position on her left, spooning her body with his, her back to his front. His hand slips around her waist, holding her close to him. Zan feels her fingers thread into his hair, urging him to come closer. He curls his head into her chest, lulled by the rhythmic rise and fall as she breathes. His hand cups her left breast, feeling the steady beat of her heart.

Liz smiles contentedly, sandwiched between her two lovers. Tonight is just the first of many more nights like this. Max falls into a peaceful sleep, secure in the knowledge that he can share Liz, and still be one with her. Zan drifts on a sea of bliss; he’s found the home he’s spent his life waiting for. His face looks softer now, years younger, stripped of the stress and strain of life on the streets. Her heart beat soothes him into slumber.

Liz hears the rhythmic quality of her sleeping lovers, but she isn’t quite ready to join them yet. She knows the road they’re traveling won’t be easy. She’s seen it in the visions, knows there’s a traitor in their midst who must be dealt with. They’ll be forced to do unimaginable things just to survive, but that’s Zan’s strength. It’s the gift he brings with him.

Years later, after the war is over and their enemies are vanquished and their lives have settled down, they’ll be blessed with children. Their sons and daughters will have the proudest daddies in the land, with no stress over who belongs to whom. Their matching DNA will make their children theirs. Liz knows these things because she’s seen them in the visions.

She feels Max’s arm around her waist, comforting and familiar. She covers his hand with hers, resting on the spot where he healed her months ago. Zan’s body warms her, new and exciting but still familiar, his presence now completes them. She cups the back of his head holding him close.

She closes her eyes and joins them in sweet slumber, three lovers embarking on a new life together.

Author note: I wanted to make a comment here about Max’s behavior in this fic. Some might think he’s out of character accepting Zan into his relationship with Liz so easily, but if you view this as the Max from Blind Date, it might not seem so strange. In Blind Date, Max didn’t appear concerned about sharing Liz with Kyle.

In fact, he said:
"We're gonna win her back! We're gonna show her how we really feel about her and she'll forget all about Mr. Shallow and come back to us!"

Key word there being “US”. He had a big grin on his face too, so that’s the Max I picture in this fic, willing to share, happy just to be with her.

The next parts are going to be lighter, hopefully with a little comedic tones and hopefully angst free, with plenty of Max/Liz/Zan loving. Let me know what you think!
Last edited by Breathless on Mon Apr 19, 2004 2:36 am, edited 14 times in total.

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Tres Amantes

Post by Breathless » Sun Mar 14, 2004 5:07 am

Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Categoy: Max/Liz/Zan
Rating: NC 17

Oh my, so much feedback I don’t know where to start! I’m glad everyone seems to be enjoying the story. It’s certainly out of my norm, in both the style of writing and the subject matter. I’ve never been shy about writing sex before, but this three-way is a first for me.

I can’t even comment on all the feedback here, it just blows me away there’s so much of it. I think some people probably stopped by just to see what the hell I was doing over here!

truman11883 asked a lot of good questions, but all I can say is . . . Don’t think too hard! The remaining parts are going to be light and fun, with no angst to weigh them down.

To Michelle, Jacki, mareli, Scottie, sarzy, Zans Desire, EVERYBODY!!

Thanks for reading!

And now for a note about the story . . .

This chapter comes with an explicit sex warning.

This is what my muse (BelevnDreamsToo), wanted me to write, and I’ve got to keep her happy. I keep wanting to write plot, and she keeps reminding me to write smut. I think we’ll end up settling for a happy middle ground eventually, but this week she wins.

Some people have wondered how the other members of the I Know an Alien Club, and the parental units are going to react to this union between Max, Liz and Zan. I hope this won’t disappoint too much, but this story is going to almost exclusively revolve around Max, Liz, and Zan, and the other characters really won’t factor in. I’m keeping this to only 5 chapters, little snapshots to see the progress of their lives, so there’s just no room for anyone else.

This chapter starts 10 years later, a little vignette called . . .

Tres Amantes

Breakfast in Bed

Max walks into his sunny kitchen, straightening his striped tie and brushing a piece of lint from the crisp crease of his slacks. He’s meticulous about the manner of his dress; he has an appointment with a new client later this morning and a court hearing after lunch. He hadn’t intended to become a lawyer like his father, but after the war against the Skins, he’d finally felt ready to settle down and make a solid life here in Roswell. Following in his father’s footsteps only seemed natural.

Of course, he’s a bit of a celebrity, being the King of another planet and all. His secret identity was exposed during the war; it was hard to pretend nothing was happening when huge spaceships were hovering over the capital in Washington D.C., but all that had settled down now. The world is happy to still be here and for the most part accepts Max, and the others like him, but they’d gone through some trying times in the last 10 years. But that’s over now, and his biggest concern at the moment is how much Tabasco sauce to put in his morning coffee. He takes a seat at the kitchen table, content to read the morning paper.

Zan pads into the kitchen on bare feet, yawning and scratching his hand through his unruly hair. He acknowledges Max with a grunt, slips a hand under his t-shirt to scratch his chest, drops it inside his shorts to make an adjustment, and then pours himself a cup of coffee. He putters around the kitchen, pouring a glass of orange juice, toasting a bagel, snatching a tub of cream cheese out of the refrigerator, before joining Max at the table.

At first glance they look completely different. Max with his short, neatly trimmed hair, manicured nails, professional appearance, and Zan looking, well, a bit scruffy around the edges. The spiky hair is longer now, a little uneven as it curls around his neck, and the goatee is gone but not the stubble. But Zan has always followed the sound of his own drum, falling outside of the norm. It’s who he is, tattoos and everything. No one has a problem with it.

Max buries his face in the morning paper, sipping contentedly at his Tabasco laden coffee. Zan picks up the funny pages Max has set aside for him.


Max folds his paper down; Zan lifts his eyes up to look at him, listening to her lilting voice drifting down the hallway to them. They wait to hear what else she has to say.

“It’s cold in here when I’m all alone. Come warm me up.”

Max and Zan remain eye locked for another moment, and then they both spring into action. Max tosses his paper down and goes for his tie. Zan gulps his orange juice and rips off his shirt. He tosses it on the kitchen floor; he can barely get out of it fast enough.

Max drops his tie in the hallway on the way to the bedroom. His shirt lands there a few seconds later. He has a little trouble getting the buttoned cuff over his wrist, but Zan is good at these things. He gives it a hard yank and tears it off, dropping it on the floor behind them. They can always repair it later.

“Thanks,” Max tugs at the belt around his waist and lowers his zipper.

“No problem,” Zan drops his shorts.

When they step into the bedroom, both men are naked, taking in the sight of their goddess on the bed. She’s feeling frisky this morning, stretching like a cat in heat. The satin sheets barely cover her, but enough to hide the parts they really want to see.

“Morning,” Liz lets a breast peek out, teasing them with it. She knows how it drives them crazy. Their growing erections prove it.

“Morning,” Max and Zan say in unison. They converge on the bed, taking a position on either side of her.

“Ummmm,” Liz turns her face into Max’s chest. “You smell so good.”

Zan spoons against her back, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. He murmurs against her ear, “So do you.”

She turns her face toward Zan, bestowing a proper good morning kiss before turning her attention back to Max. It’s his turn first.

She kisses Max, soft, gentle kisses at first, and then she nibbles at his lower lip the way she knows he likes it. His hand fists into her hair, a sure sign of his pleasure, while Zan kisses a trail down her spine. Zan’s lips caress her skin, his tongue licks at her sweet taste, his fingers slip between her legs, seeking out her special place. Her feminine juices coat his fingertip when he slips first one, then two fingers deep inside her. His thumb then sets to work on her clitoris, his practiced touch knows just how to please her.

She arches her back like a pampered cat stretching, but it’s more than that. She knows Zan wants to please her, just as much as she wants to please Max. Her mouth lingers on Max’s chest, licking his nipples, leaving a moist trail down the middle between his ribs, pausing at his navel, teasing him just a little. He moans and she smiles, she knows what he’s silently begging her to do.

She moves her mouth down his body, kissing his flat, muscular abdomen, all the way down his treasure trail. The fine hairs thicken, coarsen, a nest surrounding his masculine glory. She teases him a little more, but his groan of protest turns to pleasure when her lips part, sucking in the oversized length of his engorged erection, taking him clear to the back of her throat. Meanwhile, from behind her, Zan furrows his highly aroused cock through her folds. His tip finds his target and he thrusts into her, feeling her pillowed walls close around him, moist and slick.

She moans, which causes a humming sensation against Max’s cock, making him want her all the more. Zan slides into her deeply from behind, filling her completely with his impressive length. His arm wraps around her hips, holding her to him while he picks up the pace.

Liz loves Max with her mouth, rapidly pushing him beyond the point of no return. He hisses her name like a mantra on his lips.

“Liz . . . Liz . . . Liz . . .”

Max can’t just lie idly on the bed anymore. He has to touch her skin, stroke her hair, hold her head between his hands and drive his cock as deep as she can take him. Zan’s rapidly losing control, too. They’re all on the same plane, Max ready to come in her mouth, Zan ready to spill inside her, Liz on the verge of her own intense orgasm. Max feels his balls tighten with sweet anticipation, and then he shoots his load into the back of her throat. His guttural groan echoes off the walls of their bedroom.

Zan follows him shortly after, thrusting once, twice, and then he reaches heaven, or the next closest place to it. His semen bursts from him in a rope, and then more, and more, each orgasmic burst building on the last until he’s weak and trembling.

But before he’s done, with his tight balls slapping against her clit, and his cock drilling into her g-spot, Zan drives her to her own shattering climax. It rips through her core and spreads throughout her body and her limbs, near total satisfaction, with only an edge of needing more. Which is fine, she won’t be left wanting, because they’re not done yet.

Over the years Liz has become quite skilled with her hands. Maybe it’s her medical training giving her special insights into the workings of the male body, or maybe it’s the special bond that exists between them that lets them experience how all of them are feeling, but she always knows exactly how to touch her men to bring them back to life, no matter how recently they’ve been satisfied. And boy can she satisfy.

Lying on his back in the afterglow of a very well spent morning, Max smiles contentedly. He hears Zan and Liz enjoying a lingering kiss, and then feels the shifting of the bed as Zan gets up to attend to something somewhere else in the house. He doesn’t bother to dress, so Max knows he’ll be coming back.

The bed shifts again as Liz scoots closer. Her delicate fingers blaze a trail up his inner thigh, scrape lightly over his softening cock and down his balls, lingering in that erotic spot right behind them that never fails to get his attention. It’s almost like pushing a button and presto – he’s instantly hard again.

“Liz,” Max sighs. “You’re gonna make me late for work.”

“I called your office,” she says, lavishing small kisses on his chest. “They won’t be expecting you for a while.”

“It’s a good thing my boss is understanding,” he smiles, giving in to Liz’s insistent touches. She wants more? He’ll give her more. She’s been rather insatiable lately, maybe it’s the full moon, or that time of the month when her hormones are in over drive, but whatever the case, he and Zan aren’t about to complain.

“Speaking of your boss, your dad invited us over for dinner on Sunday. I told him we’d come.”

Come? Hum. Good idea. Max lifts her face from his chest to give her a thorough kiss. She tastes like heaven. “Let’s not talk about my parents anymore. What time do you go to work?”

“Late shift,” she says, draping herself across his chest. Her nipples are high and dark and round, and Max can’t not touch them. They pebble into hard dark points and she moans in pleasure, they’ve been more sensitive than usual lately. “Eric’s out sick with the flu, so I said I’d cover in the ER tonight. It’s Friday, and a full moon. All the crazies come out.”

Max shifts her weight onto him; he’s fully erect thanks to her, so they might as well enjoy it. She pushes back into a sitting position, straddling his thighs now, cupping his generous cock in her hand. She lifts an eyebrow and grins, “Time to come out and play?”

She tightens her hand around his uncircumcised penis, pumping downward on the foreskin to expose his glans, then upward to hide it again. She likes to do this. He likes it too. When she touches him, that’s when he truly feels like a King. The head of his cock weeps for her, leaking little beads of white pre-cum she likes to lick off.

“Come here,” he grabs her hips and lifts her up. She’s dripping wet and he knows it. She guides him to her special place and he lowers her down on top of him. His eyes roll upward in pleasure as she sheaths him in her warm, wet heat.

“Oh,” she moans softly, feeling his cock fill her up. She uses her leg muscles to lift upwards and then glides down again, riding him in a slow steady pace. Her eyes close, her head lolls from side to side, her long hair sweeps across her face. He loves to see her this way, in the throes of sexual bliss, caressing her own breasts, pulling on her nipples, parting her lower lips to finger her clit, giving him quite a show. He tries to keep the pace slow so he doesn’t come yet; wanting to savor each and every second he’s inside her.

Zan returns from wherever he’s been with a cocky look on his face, and a tray of delicacies clutched in his hands. Zan does most of the cooking. It seemed an odd fit at first, watching him flit around the kitchen with his tattooed arms, and nipple ring, and piercings on his face, but he can make one damn fine frittata, the spicier the better. It works well for them, with Max’s busy schedule at the office, and Liz’s even more hectic life as a resident at Roswell Memorial.

Liz opens her eyes but maintains her steady rhythm riding Max. She asks Zan, “What did you bring us?”

“Me,” he brags, tonguing one of the strawberries he picks up from the tray. The metal ball of the piercing through his tongue glints in the light. He leans back on one elbow and bites into the strawberry, letting the juice dribble down his chin, then opens his mouth wide and sucks the rest in. Liz licks her lips watching him. Max is occupied with a different kind of juice, the kind pouring over his cock. She’s very aroused.

Zan opens a little tub of yogurt and swirls it with his finger, then lifts it upwards, but he doesn’t put it into his mouth. Instead, he smears it over Liz’s right breast. He likes to have breakfast in bed.

“That’s cold!” Liz gasps, but it isn’t an unpleasant feeling. Max can tell by the way her inner walls grab his cock, and a fresh gush of her juice covers him.

“I better lick it off,” Zan suggests. Anything to keep their woman happy. He leans in and leisurely licks the yogurt from her skin, stimulating her nipple with the hard metal barbell sticking through his tongue. Max lifts his knees, giving Liz a platform to lean back against. It’s a little more difficult to thrust into her now, but that’s okay, it’ll just make it last longer. Besides, she’s fully on display this way. Her legs spread apart, her aroused clit poking out between her lips, his thick cock penetrating her tunnel.

“Yum,” Zan releases her breast and reaches for another strawberry. He bites off the tip and eats it, but the strawberry is large, and there’re more things he can do with it than just eat it. He circles the wet end around her nipples, then trails it down the center of her chest, past her navel, to her exposed core. He squeezes his thumb and his fingers together, dribbling strawberry juice onto her clit and spilling it onto Max’s cock.

“Oh, look at that,” Zan teases. “I made a mess. I better clean it up.”

He eats the crushed strawberry and then goes right for the good stuff, tonguing her clit, stimulating her with his piercing, lapping at the sweet strawberry juice, sucking it from her. Max’s cock gets some tongue action too, there’s no way for Zan to avoid it, but that’s okay. Max doesn’t mind. The two men don’t go for each other, but in a three way relationship like theirs, there’s bound to be a little crossing of the lines. It doesn’t freak them out.

Liz fists her hand into Zan’s hair, making sure he’s not just teasing her again, holding his head in place until he does her right. It doesn’t take long, she’s highly aroused, and her men know just how to please her. Zan suckles her hard, Max hits just the right spot inside her, and she explodes in a multiple orgasm, both clit and g-spot setting off sexual fireworks.

Zan tongues her until she comes down from her high. When she finally relaxes, and quits tearing his hair out, he leans back and gives Max a shit-eating grin. Max might be the King, but Zan’s the Man.

“Come here,” Liz leans forward and grabs Zan by his long, elegant throat. The movement sends Max’s cock deep inside her, swallowing him to the hilt. Liz covers Zan’s mouth with her own, kissing him violently, tasting herself and Max on his lips. It arouses her even more, driving her primal need to ride Max.

Max does all he can to please her. He drills into her, knowing how she likes it, feeling her grind her clit against the place where they’re joined. She comes again, he can feel her muscles tighten all around him, but he knows she isn’t satisfied yet. Sometimes their lovemaking is sweet and gentle, sometimes its down and dirty, but today she’s in a special mood. She’s feeling horny as hell.

Zan senses it, too. Max knows this because his bedmate has a full on raging boner the size of California. Liz tears her mouth away from Zan to scream out in orgasmic pleasure, giving him a chance to scurry around behind her. Max parts his legs giving Zan enough room to fit between them, and access to her glorious ass. Sometimes Zan just rubs his cock between those twin globes when they’re in this position, but this time she needs more than that. Zan times the rhythm so it won’t break their stride.

It only takes a few moments to time it right; they’ve done this many times before. Zan pushes into her without losing a beat. He uses his powers to make sure it doesn’t hurt her, her anus is tight and his cock is large, but she knows how to relax her muscles to let him in.

They’re intimately joined now, all three of them, floating on an alien plane of heightened sexual sensation. Zan’s hands wrap around her from behind, stimulating her breasts, fingering her nipples, driving her into a frenzy. Max guides the movements of her hips, setting the pace for all three of them. He feels Zan’s balls bounce against his own, their movements in sync as they both thrust inside her, each feeling the other through her narrow walls. Max is almost done now; he can feel the tightening in his sacs and the tingling in his spine and the swelling of his cock. But Liz is almost there too, and so is Zan, Max can feel it through their connection.

Liz goes over first in a whole body orgasm, one that stretches from her fingers to her toes. She has her two men to thank for that, alien orgasms are so much more intense. Max and Zan both follow her, erupting inside her at nearly the same instant. Their bodies shudder with the pleasure of it, all the sexual tension exploding in a joint moment of euphoria. When it passes, they all collapse into a heap of sweaty arms and legs and sated libidos, Liz in the middle, Max and Zan on either side.

They all feel joyously warm and happy and content, humming with the afterglow coursing through their bodies, the orgasmic tingle that will linger in them for long minutes. Liz smiles between her two men, feeling Max’s soft lips on her forehead and Zan’s warm breath on her shoulder.

“Max? Zan?” she says, rousing them so they don’t fall asleep. She has something she needs to say to them.

“Yeah?” Max flutters open his eyes.

“Hmm?” Zan snuggles closer, burying his nose in her hair.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” the two men say at the same time.

“I’ve known it for about a week. I was waiting for the right time to tell you.”

“Alright,” Max opens his eyes wider. He should take a shower and get dressed again. He has a client to meet in an hour. But her skin is so warm; he gives himself a few more minutes.

Zan cups her breast. He loves touching her breasts. He must be a breast man. He thinks they might have grown a little in the last few weeks. They feel a little fuller.

“I hope you’re going to be happy about this,” she looks at her two men, Max toying with her hair, Zan kissing her arm.

“About what?” Max sighs. He really loves her hair.

“Well . . . in a few months . . . you’re going to be . . . daddies.”

Max’s eyes pop open wide. So do Zan’s. They bolt up in bed, staring at each other.

The three of them have been together for ten years, married for six. They’ve fought wars together, vanquished their enemies together, revealed the truth about themselves to their families and the world together, but all those things are nothing compared to this.

This time they’re having a baby together. Holy Shit!

TBC . . .

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Tres Amantes - Special Delivery

Post by Breathless » Sun Mar 21, 2004 2:59 am

Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Categoy: Max/Liz/Zan
Rating: NC 17

Posted in 2 parts due to length.

Tres Amantes

Special Delivery

Max sits at the kitchen table making notes in the margin of a legal brief, trying to prepare for tomorrow’s court appearance. He’s rearranged his schedule so he can have a couple of weeks off at the end of the month, but that means he’s doing double duty now. It’s a pain bringing work home, but it’ll be worth it.

Zan’s busy at the stove making their special brand of Tabasco Lasagna. He sprinkles a little more oregano into the sauce and empties half a bottle of Tabasco in it. He dips a spoon in and sucks it off, smiling now, satisfied with the taste.

“Did you pick up the cribs today?” Max asks, eyes still glued to the notes he’s making.

“They’re in the garage,” Zan answers, lowering the pasta into the boiling water. “I’ll assemble them tomorrow.”

“And the room?” Max looks up.

“All painted.” Zan doesn’t let Max’s questions break his stride. “I even put the wallpaper border up, the one Liz likes with all the colorful teddy bears on it.”

“The dresser?”

“Done. Loaded. All ready to go.”


“There’s a six month supply in the closet.”

“They poop a lot, you know.”

“Don’t talk like that when I’m cooking!”

Max smiles, turning back to his notes. He’s nervous as hell about the impending arrival of their babies, but Zan’s been taking care of everything. Yes, that’s right. Babies. As in twins. They know they’re having a boy and a girl. It won’t be long now. Two, three more weeks tops.


Her voice drifts to them from the bedroom, making both men freeze in place. For a moment, it’s quiet enough in the kitchen to hear a pin drop, and then Zan blurts out, “I’m not going in there!”

“I have to do this,” Max points at his papers in protest.

“You don’t know what it’s like! You’ve been at the office. I’ve been here all day with her!”

“But –”

“No buts! It’s your turn!”

Max groans and pushes back from the table. They’re going through a bit of a rough patch right now. Deep in the final weeks of her pregnancy, Liz’s hormones are out of whack. They never know if she’s going to be happy or crying her eyes out. And when she gets bitchy she gets oh so bitchy. And she can be a demanding little dictator. How can such a tiny little thing make two grown men quake in their boots?

“Max?” she pokes her head into the kitchen. Well, it’s actually her stomach that shows up first. She’s huge. Well, not the rest of her, just the front of her. She’s rubbing the small of her back, which makes Max go into instant protective mode. He hurries over to her and runs a glowing hand along the curve of her back to ease her discomfort.

“You didn’t come see me,” she pouts, rubbing the back of her hand across her sleepy eyes. Her hair is all tousled, a beautiful mess.

“You were sleeping,” Max kisses her forehead. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Zan snorts at the stove. He mutters under his breath, “More like too scared to wake her.”

Max shoots him a warning look. Liz crinkles her nose and says, “What?”

“I love you, Baby,” Zan covers nicely. He’s had more practice at this than Max, being stuck here at home all day with her. They’d agreed someone needed to stay with her at all times as she nears the end of her pregnancy, just in case anything unusual happens. They don’t want to take any chances with her health. Zan loves her from the top of her head to the tips of her swollen toes. He’d die if something ever happened to her.

Liz leans into Max’s shoulder and smiles sweetly at Zan. “I love you too, honey. You too,” she stretches up to kiss Max.

Max kisses her back and then tries to urge her over to the table. “Come sit down.”

“Let me show you the nursery,” Liz takes his hand instead and tugs him toward the hallway. “I want you to move the dresser.”

Zan opens his mouth to protest, she had him move the dresser three times already today, but then he thinks wiser of it and keeps silent. He stirs the sauce on the stove, happy as a clam that Max is home.

“But Zan said the dresser’s already loaded,” Max follows Liz into the pink and blue painted nursery.

“Then you’ll just have to unload it first,” Liz tells him sweetly.

Max hears another snort coming from the direction of the kitchen.

“But isn’t this a good spot for the dresser?” Max tries to reason with her. He doesn’t realize his mistake until he sees her chin start to tremble.

“Don’t you want to help me?”

“Well, of course I do,” he soothes, but the flood gates are starting to open. Oh God.

“I just want the room perfect for the babies.” Big fat tears spill over onto her cheeks.

“It is perfect, honey. The room’s perfect. You’re perfect. The babies are perfect.”

She sniffles, soothed by his calm voice. “I’m not too fat?”


Max knows he’s in deep shit. He doesn’t need Zan’s smart ass remarks coming from the kitchen.

“You’re not fat, honey. You’re beautiful. You’re glowing,” Max says, with his hand cupping her wide girth. It looks like she has a walrus in there.

“Why did Zan say that?” she frowns.

“He’s been watching too many old TV shows on Nick at Night,” Max says, slightly relieved. At least she’s frowning about Zan now, and not at him.


Max stands in front of the bathroom mirror with a damp towel around his waist and shaving cream all over his face. His razor scrapes across his skin, removing a days worth of stubble. He makes faces as he shaves under his chin and around his mouth and across his upper lip. His hair is slightly damp from his shower, but he’ll dry it in a minute. All it takes is a wave of his hand.

The water shuts off in the shower and Zan steps out, shaking the moisture from his hair like a dog. Max rolls his eyes but he doesn’t say anything. Zan is Zan. There’s no taming him.

Zan grabs a towel and dries off quickly. His physique is lean and mean. Smooth chest, ridged abdomen, legs like a runner. A line of dark hair starts well below his navel and leads to his ‘treasure’, in all its natural glory. His muscles flex under skin tanned golden brown from afternoons working in the yard, and the bi-weekly visits with Max to the local gym. Their body type is the same, though working in an office has softened Max a little.

Max watches Zan in the mirror. When he’s through drying, he does something weird with the towel. Max lowers his razor and asks, “What the hell are you doing?”

Zan turns to face him with the towel rolled up and laying in the crook of his arm. He’s rocking it back and forth. He looks up at Max and says, “I don’t know how to hold a baby. Do you?”

“Well,” Max balks. “No.”

“What if we break ‘em?”

“We’re not gonna break them!”

“Maybe we should practice,” Zan offers Max his rolled up towel.

Max takes it and hesitantly lays it across his bent arm. “Like that?”

“You’re asking me?”

Zan rolls up a fresh towel and mirrors Max, holding it across his arm. He looks from the towel to his nipple ring, towel – nipple ring, back and forth. He shudders a little and rubs his hand over his nipple. “What if it tries to grab it? In it’s little hand? Or what if it tries to suck on it?!”

“Maybe you better take it off,” Max warns. It’d hurt like hell if one of the babies ripped it off.

“Here, you keep ‘em,” Zan hands his towel over. He tucks it nicely in Max’s other arm.

Max looks at the two towels in his arms, horrified. “I can’t hold both babies!”

“What are you doing?”

Max whips around and sees Liz standing in the bathroom doorway, arms folded over her massive belly. Max flattens his arms against his sides, which makes the towels drop to the floor. He looks down in horror, but Zan is already reacting.

“Oh my God! You dropped the –”

“TOWELS,” Max shouts.

“Are you guys okay?” Liz laughs at their strange behavior.

“Fine,” Max nonchalantly squats down and picks up one of the towel babies.

Zan brushes non-existent floor dust off the other one.

Liz crosses the bathroom and takes the towel away from Zan. She takes his hand to lead him into the bedroom. As she walks by Max she says, “Are you almost done?”

“Almost,” he wipes the leftover shaving cream off his face with his towel baby. He’s too focused on Liz to notice. “Are we doing something?”

“Semen contains prostaglandin. Prostaglandin is sometimes used to induce labor. We need lots and lots of semen.” She arches an eyebrow and smiles at him, then takes Zan into the bedroom.

Before he leaves, Zan points at Max’s dirty towel and says, “Look what you did to the baby!”

Max shakes himself. He’s a grown man and he shouldn’t be freaking out about a pretend towel baby. Still, instead of tossing it in the hamper, he waves his hand over it to clean it, then lays it on the counter. He pats it lovingly, saying, “I can do this. I can do this.”

Being a daddy is going to kill him.


“Coming,” Max calls out, quickly rinsing the remaining shave cream from his face. She’s waiting for him. He tugs off the towel around his waist and uses it to dry off, then hurries to the bedroom.

He pauses in the bathroom doorway, seeing Zan and Liz lying on the bed. Zan spoons her from behind; their naked bodies aligned together, Zan slowly making love to her with his hand caressing her swollen belly.

Zan’s usually not the gentle one. Max is the one who brings her home flowers, who gives her candlelit baths, who slow dances with her to their favorite songs. Zan squirts her with the water hose on hot summer days, and takes her on wild roller coaster rides at the local county fair, and breaks their bed playing ‘Me Tarzan, You Jane’. But tonight, Zan’s love for her is a beautiful thing to see.

Max knows Zan’s life has been a hard one. Abandoned in the sewers, growing up on the streets, stealing food just to survive. The betrayal of his own ‘family’ trying to kill him.

The war with the Skins was even harder. Max served as the planner, the coordinator, the Commander behind the lines. Zan was the one who infiltrated the enemy, who faced down Khivar one on one, who nearly died to set them free. Zan has a much harder edge to him, he’s seen things and done things no one should ever have to do, but he’s a survivor, and Liz’s love has helped heal his wounds. Max loves him, too, almost as much as he loves Liz.

Liz holds out her hand and Max hurries to join them on the bed. They don’t always have sex together. Sometimes Zan and Liz have fun while Max is at the office. Sometimes Zan gives Max and Liz their alone time, like every September when they celebrate the day everything changed for them. But they feel the most complete when they’re all three together, bonded as one.

“Ummm, you smell good,” Liz nuzzles into Max’s throat as he settles in beside her. She’s always had a thing for his smell. Rich. Clean. Spicy.

“So do you,” Max buries his nose in her hair. Strawberries. Vanilla. Sex.

Face to face with her, on their sides, Max can see the love and the passion in her eyes. He lifts her leg and drapes it over his thigh, allowing Zan better access. Zan adjusts slightly, deepening his thrusts into her.

Zan’s breathing deepens as he works a little faster. He moves his thigh to rest on top of her thigh, increasing their skin to skin contact, then asks, “Is that okay?”

“Wonderful,” she sighs. She arches her back a little to improve the angle.

Max cups her cheek with his hand and closes his mouth over hers. His tongue teases her lower lip, then slips inside her mouth. He loves kissing her, always has, always will. His stiffening cock rubs against the underside of her enormous belly. It doesn’t matter how fat she gets, he’ll always love her.

“What?” she pulls her lips away from Max and looks into his eyes.

“What?” Max sputters. Why’d she pull away like that?

“What were you just thinking?”

Max’s mouth moves like a fish out of water. When they’re connected, they can feel each other’s thoughts and emotions. It can be a blessing – or a curse. Once, she caught him thinking about their taxes. Catching him thinking she was fat would be much, much worse.

Zan saves the day. Without missing a thrust, he says in a husky groan, “He was thinking about how beautiful you are.”

“Oh,” her features soften into a gorgeous smile.

Zan mouths at Max over her shoulder, ‘You owe me.’

Liz cups Max by his elegant throat and drags him back to her. She’s being aggressive now, kissing him like crazy, which really turns him on. It turns Zan on, too. He’s almost ready to spill. He presses his forehead against her shoulder, his hand anchors onto her hip, he moves inside her faster, but trying not to go to deep. He doesn’t want to hurt her. Moments later he lets out a guttural groan and his body shudders as he comes inside her. Max and Liz moan as well, feeling the residual effects sweeping through their connection.

Zan lets out a sigh of satisfaction, melting into the sheets in the afterglow. His body throbs with pleasure – until Max rudely pushes him aside. It’s his turn now.

“Hey!” Zan grumbles.

“She wants semen,” Max echoes her earlier words. “Lots and lots of semen.”

Liz rolls onto her back and Max climbs between her legs. He kneels before her, draping her legs over his muscular thighs, lifting her bottom up from the bed.

“Grab those pillows,” Max orders. He has his bloodlust up, he wants her so bad, but he knows he has to take care of her, too. Zan tucks the pillows underneath her hips to give her the proper height. Max takes his erection in hand and bends it down to get the right angle, then pushes inside. She’s hot, and wet, and ready.

Zan checks her to see if she’s comfortable. He touches her leg and her arm and her belly before leaning close to ask, “You okay, Baby?”

Liz answers by grabbing the back of his head and pulling him down for a heated kiss. She can be an animal. She’s always had a strong sex drive, a good thing to have when living with two hot blooded men, but her pregnancy has made her horny as hell. Zan isn’t complaining, though, and neither is Max. Besides, after the babies come, they’re probably going to be in for a dry spell.

Max’s turn is going pretty well. Nobody’s gotten any leg cramps or muscle pulls yet. Sometimes when they get too energetic that can happen, but they’re trying to take it easy here. When Liz lets Zan come up for air he takes a look over her belly. He’s a guy and he likes to look. She’s on full display with her hips up in the air like that and he shifts down to that end of the bed, enjoying the show.

Her clit looks so ripe and wet and swollen he wants to taste it. He’s good at that, tonguing her until she comes, but when he lowers his head to do it he gets squished between her belly and Max’s abdomen. That’s not gonna work. He settles for kissing her breasts instead. He’s always loved her breasts, but now they’re big and round and she says they’re even more sensitive than before. He closes his mouth around one of her nipples making her let out a loud moan. He smiles, loving the sounds of her moans.

He tongues her nipple with his metal piercing teasing it to a hard peak. He feels the way it puckers, growing in his mouth, and he can’t help it, he takes a suck. His mouth fills with sweet fluid.

Zan bolts away from her sputtering, “W-what was that?” He wants to hide behind Max, but it wouldn’t look very manly.

Max stops what he’s doing. With his large hands holding Liz’s hips he asks, “What was what?”

“Breast milk,” Liz laughs at Zan’s expression. She could give him the technical name but it might freak him out even more.

“Did – did it hurt?”

“Did what hurt?” Max starts to pull out of her but she won’t let him. She tightens her legs around him to keep him in place.

“No, silly, it didn’t hurt. It’s normal. In fact, it felt really good. Do it again.”

Zan gives Max a look to see what he thinks. Max shrugs. If Liz wants him to do it again, it must be okay. Zan leans down and puts his mouth on her breast again. It tastes sweet. Really sweet. She moans when he sucks on her again.

Max feels her inner muscles clamp down on him. Whatever Zan’s doing to her, she must really like it. He starts moving again. He sees her hand clutching at the sheet, the way she does when she’s getting really excited, and it excites him too. Zan’s working her into a frenzy alternating between one breast and the other. Her legs are trembling, her moans are increasing, they know she’s going to come soon. Zan glides a hand over her stomach and slips his fingers between her wet lips.

Between Max’s penetration, and Zan’s ministrations, Liz explodes with the biggest orgasm she’s ever felt. All that nipple attention really put her over the top. Her walls clamp down on Max and he’s a goner. He shoots a geyser off inside her, giving her what she wants.

Zan knows his nipple action is what really did her in. He jumps up on the bed and flings his arms above his head in triumph. “I’m the MAN!”

He can be such a kid sometimes.

They all hear it then, the creaking of the wood just before they plummet to the floor. Another broken bed.

Later, snuggled together on the mattress on the floor, the three lovers drift toward sleep feeling content and happy. There’s so much warmth around them they only need a sheet to cover them. Liz always sleeps in the middle, Max on the left, and Zan on the right. Liz’s head fits nicely under the curve of Max’s chin, Zan spoons her other side. His hand strokes Liz’s belly, not quite as tired as the others.

“I wonder what it will be like.”

The sound of Zan’s wistful voice rouses Liz. She lifts her hand and brushes her fingers through his long and silky hair. “What what will be like?”

“When the babies come.”

He’s worried he won’t know how to be a father. He had no role model. He’s a human/alien hybrid, created in a bio-lab and hatched from a pod. Max grew up with adopted parents who loved him. Liz was born into a loving family. Zan’s family tried to kill him under the wheels of an oversized truck.

Liz turns her head and kisses his forehead. “You’re gonna be just fine.”

“You think so?”

He looks up at her with such hopeful eyes it makes her heart ache.

“I know so. They’re gonna love you so much.”

Zan lets out a relieved sigh. She always makes him feel better. He settles his head against her breast, with his hand still spread across her belly. The sheet rustles softly as Max moves his hand to cover Zan’s. No one in this house will ever feel alone.

Back with the rest in a sec . . .
Last edited by Breathless on Sun Mar 21, 2004 3:06 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Post by Breathless » Sun Mar 21, 2004 2:59 am

Special Delivery con’t

Zan sits at the computer in the study, working on his class assignments; he’s enrolled at the Roswell campus of Eastern New Mexico University. After the war, Liz talked him into going. He’s highly intelligent, he’s been a voracious reader over the years, but a career path has always escaped him. What does the world need with a second hand King?

The war is something none of them like to think about now. The first skirmishes were localized, centered around Roswell, triggered when Tess Harding failed to return to Antar with the heir. She tried seducing Max first, and when that didn’t work, she turned her ‘charms’ on Zan. He might not have the seal, but the DNA is the same. He’d been waiting for her, though. They all knew what she planned because of Liz’s visions.

The bloodstains on Zan’s hands, from Rath and Lonnie and Tess, were just the beginning, though. It was war, and war wasn’t pretty. He killed people, too many to count, Skins and Khivar sympathizers. He went to Antar impersonating the King, infiltrating the enemy lines and taking the fight directly to Khivar, something he felt he had to do. He was expendable, Max wasn’t. Liz cried for days when he left.

When Khivar fell and the war ended, Zan returned to Earth as a hero in some eyes, and a monster in others. The President wanted to give him a medal, while others turned away from him in fear, calling him an alien abomination.

But after time, life settled down, as all things do. The world adjusted to having aliens living among them. The court system granted Zan citizenship, granted it to Max and Isabel and Michael, too. Technically, they were all ‘born’ here in the States. They were granted certain other ‘privileges’, too, being Royalty from another planet, and all. Max pulled the King card, petitioning the courts, telling them it was custom on Antar for the King, Queen, and Royal Consort to be bonded in marriage. It was complete and utter bullshit, there’s no such custom on Antar, but in a court of law Max can be very persuasive. A week later they were married, all nice and legal, Max Evans, Elizabeth Parker, and Zan.

Zan finishes the short story he’s been working on for his English class and saves the file. He hits the printer icon and waits for the pages to come out; he wants to show it to Liz. She says he has a talent for writing; his professor says it, too. For Zan, it’s a therapeutic way to let out some of the feelings he doesn’t let other people see.

Except for friends and family, Zan doesn’t socialize much. He doesn’t like the attention. There’d been a time when their faces had been splashed across every magazine and supermarket tabloid in the entire United States, not to mention the rest of the world.




But, for the most part, all that is behind them now. The residents of Roswell are used to them. Still, Zan prefers to take on-line classes instead of attending the local campus. He tried that once, with disastrous results. Reporters followed him around. Girls threw themselves at him wanting to try some hot alien sex. Max handles that kind of thing better. He knows how to talk in public, how to look, how to act, how to dress. Zan’s always had a harder time fitting in.

When the printer shuts off, Zan picks up the pages and leafs through them on his way out of the study. He’s written a story about a pretend boy and the real girl he meets, who makes him come to life. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.

“Liz?” he looks up as he walks into the kitchen. “I finished –”

Zan stops in mid sentence. Liz is standing in the middle of the kitchen with a mess on the floor all around her. She must have spilled something. He puts the papers down on the table and goes to help her out.

“You’re not supposed to carry anything,” he scolds, looking around for a dropped pan or glass or something, but there’s nothing on the floor except –

“My water broke.”

Come again? Her water . . . broke? As it sinks in, his eyes go big and round. Oh. OH! OH SHIT!

“Do you – are you – are we –”

Zan’s knees go weak and his stomach thinks it’s on a roller coaster ride, it’s flipping all around. He’s trying very hard not to pass out here.

“Baby, you’ve gotta sit down!” He reaches for her elbow to lead her to the table, with his face turning as white as a ghost.

“Honey, its okay –”

“We have to call Max,” Zan settles her onto a chair and starts moving around the kitchen. “Where’s the phone? Where’s the phone!”

“Honey –”

“I used it this morning. It’s gotta be here!”

“Zan –”

He starts to run past her but she reaches out to catch his hand. “Honey, we have plenty of time.”

“We do?” he stares at her, trying to catch his breath.

“We do,” she reassures him, cupping his cheek with her hand. “Now, can you help me change out of these wet things?”


Max drives like a maniac on the way to the hospital. He uses his powers to make all the lights turn green. When he pulls into the parking lot he’s disturbed to see a news van parked near the main entrance. Things have been quiet on the publicity front for awhile, but news of an imminent royal alien birth must be spreading.

His cell phone rings as he’s trying to decide whether to make a run for it through the front doors, or to try to sneak around to the side. He answers it, hearing the familiar sound of his sister’s voice.

“Max, where are you?”

“Parking lot,” he fidgets, eyeing the news crew. “How’s Liz?”

“She’s in labor. How do you think she is? Get your ass in here!”

“There’s a news –”

“I know. Drive around to the employee entrance in back. I’ll let you in.”

Max puts the car in gear and heads around to the back. Isabel graduated from nursing school a few years ago, and now she works here at Roswell Memorial in the maternity ward. Back in high school her career assessment profile said she leaned toward care giver fields. It turns out Topolsky was right, except knowing Isabel, she’ll probably own the place in the next five years. She already heads all the fundraising drives, and the charity events, and is the Nursing Staff Liaison to the Board of Directors.

Isabel meets Max at the back door wearing a pediatric scrub top adorned with frisky kittens and puppies. Her blonde hair is pulled back in a pony tail.

“Come on,” she waves, ushering him inside. She hustles him over to the stairway; they need to go up one flight.

“How is she?” Max stays hard on her heels. He can’t help being worried. This is the first birth of their kind. Isabel and Alex haven’t had children yet. Neither have Michael and Maria. Liz thinks that the reason she was able to conceive is because of the changes Max made in her body when he saved her life. Tests show her physiology has been altered, but Maria and Alex are still 100% human. Human and alien cells just don’t mix without a bridge to link them.

“She’s dilated to 7, going into Transition.”

“WHAT!” Max stumbles to a stop. He’s read all the books. He knows exactly what that means. “Why didn’t anyone CALL me!”

Isabel grabs him by the arm to keep him moving. “You were in court. She said to wait until you were done. We didn’t know her labor was going to move so fast. We expected it to be hours, but those babies want out!”

Max moves to bolt around his sister, but she grabs his arm again. “She’s fine, Max. Zan’s been keeping her comfortable, and you haven’t missed that much.” Her grip loosens and she smiles at him, saying, “All the good stuff’s coming up.”

As his worry lessens, his nerves kick up a notch. It won’t be long before he has two real babies in his arms, not just rolled up towels.


Max hears them before he sees them; Zan’s low voice calling out times, Liz making those funny breathing sounds.

“And deep cleansing breath,” Zan says as a contraction ends.

Max walks around the curtain in the small patient room. He sees Liz first and thinks she looks tired, with beads of sweat around her forehead dampening her hair. Zan looks relieved to see him.

“You made it,” Liz holds her hand out to him. Max takes it and hurries to her side. With both her men flanking her, Liz feels so much better.

Max glares at Zan, saying, “I would have been here sooner if I’d known.”

“Don’t blame him,” Liz chides. “I didn’t think there was any rush.”

For the first time in their relationship, Max feels a little left out. He knows it wasn’t intentional, but still. He wanted to experience all of it with them.

“Don’t worry, Max,” Zan reaches across Liz and takes his hand, linking them all together. “There’s plenty of time left to feel the pain.”

Sure enough, as soon as Zan finishes those prophetic words, another contraction hits and the pain flares through their connection. Max gasps in surprise; he never imagined childbirth would hurt like this! As Zan counts down the contraction, Max holds on for dear life.

Fifteen minutes and five contractions later, Max is sweating and exhausted, he’s never felt so much pain in all his life. Zan’s doing better, he had time to adjust to the rising burn of the contractions, but Max just got thrown into the fire.

Isabel breezes into the room pulling a latex glove onto her hand. “Let’s see how you’re doing.”

Max can’t believe how cheery she sounds. He’s dying here.

Isabel lifts the sheet and pulls it up over Liz’s abdomen. She waits for the contraction to end, then slips her hand inside. Zan looks around to make sure no one else is looking at this, but Liz doesn’t seem to care. Max cringes. He never thought he’d see his sister’s hand up inside his wife’s body.

“You’re fully dilated, Liz,” Isabel beams at her. “100% effaced.”

“Good,” Liz sighs.

“What’s that mean?” Zan asks. Max is too busy recovering from the last contraction to speak.

“It means she’s ready to push!”

Isabel breezes out to get the doctor, while Max and Zan exchange a look over Liz’s belly. They’re in the final stretch now. Their babies are almost here.

Suddenly the room fills with activity. Nurses come in and dress Max and Zan in sterile throwaway gowns. They even have to wear little paper booties over their shoes. Isabel exposes the enormity of Liz’s belly again, using her hands to feel the babies inside. The doctor comes in and pulls up a stool for a bird’s eye view of Liz’s goods.

“It’s coming,” Liz announces another contraction. She holds on tightly to her men, Zan on her right, and Max on her left. They help her lift up to a sitting position so she can push.

Max has never seen so much determination on Liz’s face before. Her cheeks are quivering, her jaw is clenching, her grip tightens almost hard enough to break his hand. Her face turns red with the effort as she holds her breath and pushes. When the contraction ends she flops backwards and tries to catch her breath.

“Good one,” the doctor encourages. “A few more like that and we’ll be done.”

Max can’t believe the moment is almost here. They’ve waited months for this. Zan takes a peek over Liz’s massive belly; he’s always liked to look. What he sees shocks him, though. He’s read the books, seen the videos, but it never seemed real until now. He watches in fascination as, after two more strong pushes, Liz gives birth.

“Oh my God,” Zan breathes out, watching a head, and then shoulders, and then a whole wet, wiggling baby plop out into the doctor’s hands.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor announces, checking the baby’s nose and his breathing. He looks at Zan and asks, “Do you want to cut the cord?”

“Me?” Zan asks with his heart pounding in his throat. He looks at Max, who nods in encouragement. Max is well aware of Zan’s fears of inadequacy, that he’s only second best. It’s the least he can do, to let Zan hold their son first.

Zan clamps the cord and makes the cut, barely breathing the whole time. The doctor lays the baby in his arms, a living, breathing testament that Zan’s life here isn’t wrong.

“What are you going to name him?” Isabel asks, beaming at her new nephew.

Zan takes him close for Liz and Max to see. His skin is red and slippery and Zan’s afraid of dropping him, but he’s never been more proud in his life. They have a son.

“Well?” Max looks up at Zan. Zan lifts his head and meets his gaze.

They’ve talked about names. They made a list for boys and a list for girls, but they decided to wait until the babies were born, until they could look into their faces and see what names fit. Holding their son, Zan now knows what he wants to name him, but Max is the King. The right belongs to him.

But Max has never been that way, egotistical or self-important. By letting Zan choose, Max is giving him a gift.

“I’d – I’d like to name him Zack.”

“Zachary?” Max asks. It’s not a name they’ve talked about before.

“No,” Zan shakes his head slightly. “Just . . . Zack.”

Max and Liz share a look. Zan, the man with no last name, would like to name their son Zack. They don’t even have to think about it.

“Zack is perfect,” Max and Liz say at the same time.

Zan breathes out; unaware of the breath he’s been holding. He blinks rapidly, trying to clear his eyes. He looks down at their son, knowing it’s impossible, the baby is too young, but he could swear that Zack is smiling.

The room becomes a blur of activity again as they gear up for another delivery. Isabel offers to take Zack but Zan’s not ready to let him go yet. Max helps Liz into a sitting position as another contraction hits. Zan takes her hand so they’re all connected. Little Zack looks up at his father, blinking at the big wide world he’s suddenly found himself in. He doesn’t make a sound.

Liz strains with the effort of delivering another baby, making guttural sounds they’ve never heard from her before. The sound rips from her throat growing louder and louder until it’s almost a roar.

“I see the head!” Zan cries out in excitement.

The contraction passes allowing Liz to catch her breath, but before she knows it another is taking hold. She draws in another deep breath and pushes with all her might.

“Max, you’ve gotta come see this!” Zan tells him. He doesn’t want Max to miss one of the most thrilling moments of their lives. Isabel thinks the same thing. She quickly takes Max’s place supporting Liz so he can watch their daughter being born. Before his very eyes, Max sees a pink, squirming little body pop out into the world. His mouth falls open in absolute rapture at the sight of her, their precious baby girl. With his left hand he reaches out to softly touch her tiny little hand, no bigger than his fingertip. Her hand instantly opens and grasps him around the finger, and for a moment they’re all linked together. Their baby girl holds on to Max, who holds Liz by the hand, who in turn holds onto Zan, who is holding Zach in his arm creating a moment of instant bonding. They all feel it as their connection expands from 3 to 5.

“Max? Do you want to cut the cord?”

Max can barely tear his eyes away from their beautiful little girl, but he does so long enough to clamp the cord and make the cut. Seconds later the baby is snuggled into the crook of his arm, staring up at him.

“Can I see them?” Liz asks.

All the hard work is over now. The doctor delivers the placentas while Max and Zan gather around Liz, sitting on the edge of the delivery table near her, showing her what they made together. Liz is the one who cries now as she touches their little arms and little legs and little tiny toes.

“They’re so beautiful,” she weeps tears of joy.

“What are you going to name this one?” Isabel asks, crying tears of her own. She couldn’t be a prouder aunt.

They all look at Max this time. He looks from Zan to Liz, knowing they are letting him decide. He thinks the baby is too beautiful to name, that no name could ever do her justice. Her skin feels petal soft, her smell like a fragrant flower. They talked about giving her a combination of all their names, and now he knows what to put with it.

“Her name is Malizza Rose.”

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Tres Amantes - School Daze

Post by Breathless » Sun Apr 11, 2004 12:41 am

Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Categoy: Max/Liz/Zan
Rating: NC 17

So I'm back with a long part to make up for my absence. Fair warning, my muse wanted sex, sex, sex, and I tried to provide, though I did my best to include some actually story to bind it all together. Hope you enjoy.

Posted in 2 parts due to length.

School Daze

A new day dawns in the Evans household, with a heightened sense of excitement and adventure. A new phase in their lives is about to begin.

“Max? Can you fix this?”

Max sits on the edge of a twin sized bed on the left side of their children’s pink and blue bedroom, intently concentrating on getting a pair of little daisy barrettes placed in just the right spots in five year old Mizzy’s long dark hair. She stands between his knees, waiting ever so patiently; sometimes daddy can be all thumbs. Max looks around her to the other side of the room, where Liz has her hands full.

Five year old Zack does a poor job of standing still in front of his mother while she tries to tame his unruly hair. The little cowlick in front wants to stand straight up, almost like an homage to his father’s hair challenged days.

“Adam! Adam, come back here!”

A naked baby toddles past the bedroom doorway on stout little legs, giggling and laughing. A moment later Zan flashes by trying to catch him.

“Is Gracie ready?” Liz shouts out to him.

“Yes!” Zan replies from somewhere near the livingroom. The sounds of footsteps grow closer until he reappears in the bedroom doorway, with two year old Adam tucked under his arm. “Gracie’s dressed and waiting to go. This guy’s being a handful.”

Liz looks at her watch, calculating the time. Mornings in the Evans house are always hectic with two sets of twins running around, but this particular morning is a special one. Zack and Mizzy are starting their first day of school.

“Zack, come here,” Max motions his son over. He tries to tame the cowlick, but even alien powers aren’t enough.

“Dad?” Zack says in a small voice. His fingers fidget at his father’s thigh, plucking at the fabric of his slacks. His eyes look down at his feet.

“Yeah?” Max bends his head forward, trying to initiate eye contact. Something’s bothering his son.

Zack looks up, meeting his gaze. “Were you scared?”

“Scared?” Max arches an eyebrow, and then the meaning sinks in. “You mean on the first day of school?”

“Yeah,” Zack nods. He shoots a look at Mizzy, but she’s not as nervous as he is. She’s always been more adventurous.

Max lifts his kids up and settles one on each knee, Mizzy on the left and Zack on the right. With an arm around each of them, he tells them a story.

“I was scared to death the first day Aunt Isabel and I went to school. She had to pull me off the bus. But it turned out to be one of the best days of my life. That was the day I met your mother.”

Liz moves to the doorway with a smile on her lips, listening to Max gently soothe their children. He’s like a rock to anchor to, a calm presence in the midst of a churning sea. No matter how tumultuous their lives get, Max holds them all together.

She steps into the hallway and sees Zan coming out of the bedroom with a clean and scrubbed, fully dressed toddler perched on each hip. Gracie’s wispy dark curls frame an impish little face. Adam’s happy giggles ring throughout the house. Their energy is immeasurable, which keeps their parents on their toes. Raising four kids under 6 is a huge job.

“We’re all set,” Zan says.

Liz grabs a diaper bag out of the bedroom that once upon a time had been a study. They converted it to a nursery two years ago when the second set of twins arrived. They’re terribly cramped in their little home, but it’s a house full of love, so they manage.

“Let’s go!” Liz says, swinging the diaper bag over her shoulder.

Max meets them in the hallway, holding Zack’s and Mizzy’s hands. Mizzy is excited about the prospect of starting school. She wants to be a lawyer or a doctor when she grows up. Zack’s biggest goal right now is just surviving the first day.

Zan gives Zack a conspiratorial wink as they head for the car, making Zack smile for the first time that morning. They have a little secret of how to deal with mean teachers, or bullies on the playfield. Like hiding mice in the teacher’s desk. Or tying mean kid’s shoelaces together so they can’t walk. Zack would never actually do those things, but it’s funny to think about.

Traveling is always an adventure for them, they had to buy a van to fit them all, but nobody wants to be left home today on this milestone in their lives. When they reach the school, everyone piles out. Zan takes the longest, unstrapping the babies from their car seats, but everyone is busy. Max checks to make sure Mizzy has everything; her lunch, her little backpack with her name printed inside in Max’s neat handwriting, a notebook with all their phone numbers and a supply of quarters in a little zippered bag, in case she needs to make any calls. Liz squats in front of Zack, fussing with his cowlick again. She licks her thumb and tries to wet it down.

“Mom!” Zack bats her hand away. She laughs good-naturedly and kisses him on the forehead.

As soon as Adam’s feet hit the ground he takes off running. Gracie goes the other way. It’s how Zan stays in shape these days, running after them.

“We need pictures,” Liz announces. She pulls a camera out of the diaper bag and lines Zack and Mizzy up in front of the school steps. They’re going to a private school, the first alien/humans to ever attend. Max surveys the school grounds with critical scrutiny, the tall fences will keep prying eyes away.

Adam and Gracie run into the camera frame, they want their pictures taken too, giving Zan a moment to finally catch his breath.

Liz takes a series of pictures and then they all regroup together. Liz takes her oldest children’s hands and leads them into school to find their classroom. The two daddies watch, Max holding Adam on his left hip, Zan holding Gracie on his right, both men full of pride for their offspring. They’re both thinking the same thing, but Zan’s the one who voices it.

“What a day.”


The warm days of fall give way to the chilly days of winter, which gradually slide into the blissful days of spring. Pink blossoms adorn the trees and the scent of flowers fills the air.

The house is quiet now, but Zan knows it won’t last long. The twins are down for their afternoon nap, so he has about an hour more of solitude. He savors these moments, but at the same time he wants to go into the bedroom and wake those sleepyheads up. He misses them when they’re not climbing all over him.

Liz walks into the kitchen leafing through a stack of mail. She stops next to the table where Zan’s studying and holds an envelope out to him. “This one’s for you.”

Liz watches a slow smile spread over Zan’s face as he takes it from her. He turns it over and slips his finger under the flap, breaking the seal. He takes the letter out and unfolds it.

The familiar logo for Eastern New Mexico University fills the upper left corner. Below are lines of text giving Commencement details, of where and when and what time. Zan will be attending this year, the proud recipient of a Bachelor’s Degree in English Literature.

“Wow,” Zan says, setting down the letter. He never thought his life would turn out like this. The kid from the streets, who grew up in the sewers, is graduating from college.

“I’m so proud of you,” Liz strokes her hand through his long silky hair. He pulls her close to him, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“I did it,” he beams. “I really did it.”

“Yes,” she kisses the top of his forehead. “You really did.”

The phone rings interrupting their intimate moment. Liz crosses the room, checking the caller ID before she answers it. Zan rises from the table and follows her, slipping his hands around her again. He lifts her shirt to touch her flat stomach, inching higher to cup a round breast. When the kids are asleep, you’ve gotta go for the gusto. After sixteen years together, he still can’t get enough of her.

“Hi,” Liz cradles the phone against one ear. Zan nuzzles the other. She hears Max’s excited voice on the other end of the line.

“We passed final inspection!”

Max stands on a green lawn in front of their newly built home, overseeing the contractors as they work on the final details. He grins into his cell phone, with his gaze sweeping over the large two story house.

“We can move in any time!”

It’s been a long six months from groundbreaking to completion, but worth every minute of it. The white colonial home, with black shutters and white pillars in the front, looks fit for a king. It has everything they need; 5 bedrooms, a formal livingroom big enough for entertaining if they decide to ever do that sort of thing, a cozy family room where they plan on spending most of their time together, a study, an office, and a kitchen with all the latest gadgets.

Liz looks around the kitchen of the little home they’ve shared for the last twelve years, thinking she’s going to miss it here. Just then the front door bursts open to the sound of stampeding elephants; Zack and Mizzy are home from school. The noise wakes up Adam and Gracie, who scramble out of bed and join the mêlée. Liz looks around at the chaos, thinking maybe she won’t miss this place after all.


Adam squirms in his chair, turning around to look at the funny looking lady sitting behind him. She has a silly hat on, and he thinks she’s really really old. Gracie turns around and looks too. It’s really hard to sit still when you’re a little kid.

“I’m fwee,” Gracie tells the old lady, holding up three fingers in the air.

“Adam,” Max says in a stern voice, warning his son to turn around and stop bothering the people behind them.

“Grace, hush now,” Liz scolds, trying to keep her voice low so they won’t spoil the ceremony. It’s a beautiful day, with bright sun and blue sky. They couldn’t have asked for a nicer day to celebrate Zan’s graduation. Liz turns Gracie around to face forward again.

Max and Liz sit with the younger twins between them, to try to keep them out of trouble. They’re too energetic for their own good. Zack sits quietly on the left side of Liz, Mizzy sits to Max’s right. The older twins watch respectfully while the pomp and circumstance continues up on the stage. A voice booms out of the loud speakers that flank the stage, drifting over the rows of chairs spread out over the manicured lawn.

“Susan Yeager . . .”

A young woman rises from her seat and heads up to the stage to accept her diploma.

“Bryan Young . . .”

From her vantage point, Liz can see the squared edges of Zan’s blue cap. His head turns and their eyes meet, as if he senses she’s watching him. He gives her an anxious smile, he doesn’t like being the center of attention, but she can see the excitement that he’s feeling, too. It’s taken a long time for Zan to get to this point in his life, and she couldn’t be more proud of him.

“Emanuel Zadora . . .”

The young man sitting next to Zan stands to make the walk up to the stage. Zan takes in a deep breath, knowing his name will be called next. He lets the air out slowly, counting the off the seconds, reminiscent of the old relaxation techniques he learned back when Liz was in labor.

“Zan . . .”

Zan feels a rush go through his body when his name is called. He rises to his feet, feeling an untold number of eyes staring at him. He hears the shutter whirl of cameras, reporters taking a picture of the Graduating Alien. He makes his way down the row of empty seats, the last one to ascend the stage.

“’at’s my daddy!” Adam announces, bouncing in his seat.

Gracie turns around to make sure the old lady behind them knows. “Dat’s our DADDY!”

“Grace!” Max uses his authoritative father voice.

“Dat’s my daddy, too,” Grace tells the woman, pointing her chubby little finger at Max. “I hab two daddies!”

While Max is trying to quiet Gracie and apologize to the old woman behind them, Adam scrambles down from his seat and takes off running. Liz grabs for him, but he’s just too fast. He races up the center aisle, barreling into his father’s legs.

“Daddy!” Adam grabs a handful of Zan’s blue graduation gown. “You awl dressed funny!”

Zan looks down at the three year old pinning his little body to his side, and can’t help but smile at his adorable little face. Adam has his mother’s eyes.

“Hey little man,” Zan scoops him up, planting Adam on his left hip. It’s not exactly normal to have your kid up on stage with you when you graduate, but when has Zan’s life ever been normal? “Do you want to help me get my diploma?”

“Depoma!” Adam echoes, grabbing for Zan’s hat. Zan sets it on his head, laughing at how it nearly swallows him whole.

Zan carries Adam up the stairs to the stage, no longer nervous about the eyes watching him. He knows the important people in his life love him dearly, and that’s all that matters.

Liz blinks at the moisture gathering in her eyes watching Zan take his diploma. His smile lights his face as he looks out over the crowd, immediately finding the family that he loves. Everyone’s here today. The Parkers sit next to the funny looking old lady just behind Gracie. Philip and Diane Evans sit beside them. Michael and Maria sit in the row in front of Max and Liz, Alex and Isabel sit nearby, too. Zan sweeps his gaze over them all, happy and content to be the center of their attention.


“Congratulations,” Philip Evans pumps Zan’s hand.

“Thanks,” Zan says. He can’t stop smiling. Diane pats him on the arm like a proud mother. It wasn’t easy in the beginning; Zan wasn’t very trustful and Philip and Diane went through quite an adjustment when they entered the I Know an Alien Club, but they’ve come a long way since then. The bonds of family have grown strong over the years.

Max stands a few feet away, deep in conversation with his father-in-law. Gracie sits in the circle of Grandpa Jeff’s arms, batting her big brown eyes at him. She has him wrapped around her little finger.

“Everything’s in the new place,” Max says, unable to hide his sigh of relief.

“Finally,” Jeff commiserates. He knows how long it’s taken to build the new house.

“We moved the last of the stuff in this morning,” Max continues. Tonight, for the first time, they’ll sleep in their new home.

Adam sits perched atop Michael’s shoulders, tugging at the big guy’s long hair. Michael takes it graciously, though. He knows Adam and Zack and the girls might be the closest he ever gets to having children of his own. Maria stands nearby, in animated conversation with Liz and Isabel, while Alex shows Zack and Mizzy his severed finger trick.

As the afternoon winds to an end, the members of this extended family move off in separate directions. Zack and Mizzy go home with Grandpa Philip and Grandma Diane. Adam and Gracie go with the Parkers for the night. Jeff better put on his running shoes.

After everyone’s gone, Liz stands between her two men, asking, “Now what?”

Max and Zan exchange a knowing look. They have big plans for tonight.


“Okay, close your eyes,” Max tells Liz.

Liz stands in front of the double doors leading into their new home, with Max and Zan flanking her, all three of them bathed in the golden lamplight that spills from the windows. It’s a special night for them, their first night here in their new home, and the men have made some special plans to mark the occasion.

“What’s going on?” Liz asks, smiling with her eyes closed. “What have you two been up to?”

“You’ll see,” both men answer at once.

Zan spent the last week supervising the moving of the household furniture and the stocking of the cupboards. Max’s job was atmosphere and mood lighting. Both men deserve A’s. Max and Zan each grasp a door knob and in unison pull the double doors open.

The first thing Liz senses is the scent of flowers on the air. Max has filled each room in the house with a bouquet or an arrangement; roses and wildflowers, daffodils and tulips, baby's breath and greenery to compliment the appearance. Max and Zan take Liz by the hand and lead her inside.

“Max . . .” Liz steps hesitantly. The last time she was in the house it was empty, but now she feels the soft cushion of a carpet beneath her feet.

“Keep ‘em closed,” Max warns. He doesn’t want to ruin the effect. They lead her into the center of the foyer, then Max tells her, “Open your eyes!”

She pops them open and gasps in delight. On the right, through an archway into the livingroom, Liz can see a polished grand piano gleaming in the lamplight. An overstuffed cream colored couch looks perfectly at home, with lots of brightly colored accent pillows to make the room come to life. A pale carpet attests to the only room in the house not meant for kids.

To the left, a cozy study is lined with volumes of books. An easy chair sits waiting with an afghan draped across the arm. A Tiffany lamp in a multitude of hues stands behind it, casting a warm light throughout the room.

Liz can’t see into the family room or the kitchen at the back of the house, though she knows they’ll look just as wonderful as this, but the truly spectacular vision is the one right in front of her, the grand staircase leading to the second floor. Garland made of flowers wind through the railing, up the stairway to the landing above. Rose petals lay sprinkled on the steps, in red and pink and white, all the colors of their love. Candles light the second floor, inviting her with their flickering glow.

“Max . . . Zan . . .” she sighs, nearly crying from the beauty. She knows they did this together, and she knows they did it just for her.

“Come on,” her men say, leading her up the wide staircase. Tonight’s the first night in their new home and they have to christen it, each and every room.

They hold hands as they cross the landing to the Master Suite, the entire right wing of the upper floor just for them. A sturdy king size bed takes center stage, the wooden headboard strong and solid. The men have used a little alien engineering to make sure this one won’t break. Rose colored sheets with turned back edges cover the candlelit bed.

“You guys!” Liz cries, blinking back the tears. Could they be any more romantic?

Zan and Max share a secret smile, they live to make her happy, and tonight they’ve outdone themselves. Zan leans close to kiss her cheek, and then disentangles his hand from hers, saying, “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

He quirks an eyebrow at Max and then disappears through a doorway into the master bath.

Liz wanders around the bedroom touching everything she sees. They’ve tied bows made of ribbon and lace to the bedposts, and the lamp shades, and the tiebacks on the curtains. Rose petals float in the air, held aloft by a little alien magic. Max watches her, smiling at her reaction, while he slowly undresses.

His shirt slips from his shoulders, down his arms, revealing the firm, strong muscles underneath. Max and Zan work out together to keep in shape and it shows. He drops his shirt in an out of the way corner and his pants soon follow, shoes and socks and shorts as well. They’ll be wrinkled in the morning but he doesn’t really care. Candlelight dances across his golden skin as he crosses the room to Liz.

“So, do you like it?” his arms surround her from behind, nuzzling his nose into her hair. His voice has almost a magical quality to it, a combination of sweet honey and pure sex.

“I love it,” she turns around to face him, pressing her lips against his. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he kisses her back, soft and tender, teasing her lower lip with his tongue. She tastes so sweet, an aphrodisiac of desire, making him swell with wanting. Her hands caress his back, gliding over his smooth skin, sliding around to the front to cup his heavy balls. He can’t help letting out an earthy groan of pleasure, but before they can get carried away, he releases her mouth and says, “Zan’s waiting.”

Liz reaches for the shoulder strap of her sundress but Max stops her. They’re going to be pampering her tonight. He turns her toward the bathroom fully clothed. They look up to see Zan leaning against the doorway, naked as the day he was hatched. He’s been watching Max make love to Liz’s mouth, and it’s aroused him.

Liz lifts her hand and curls her index finger at him in a ‘come here’ gesture. Zan arches his eyebrow, but he’s more than willing to comply. He pushes off from the bathroom doorway and saunters across the room. As he nears, Liz reaches for his erect manhood, using it to pull him close. She stands in the middle, the meat in a sexual sandwich, with Zan pressing into her front, and Max poking her from behind. She wants them now, both of them.

Instead of using his alien powers to dispense with all the little buttons down the front of her dress, Zan chooses to unfasten each and every one, slowly, savoring each inch of her newly exposed skin. He only gets the top buttons undone before he’s distracted by her naked breasts, she’s not wearing a bra tonight, and those hard, dark circles in the center of her pale flesh light his fire.

His mouth covers one of those circles, tonguing the bud, feeling it grow, reacting to his stimulation. Her fingers thread through his long hair, encouraging him to continue.

With Zan’s attention distracted by her breasts, Max takes over the task of removing that sundress. His fingers slip between Liz and Zan, unfastening each tiny button one by one. He peels the thin little spaghetti straps from her shoulders and drops the dress on the floor behind them. Now that she’s nearly nude, Max slides his hands over her delicate skin, touching her shoulders, her ribs, cupping the breast Zan isn’t sucking. He lowers his hand down her flat stomach, pausing at that special place where their lives first came together, feeling the hum inside her, the connection that links them all.

“Max . . . Zan . . .”

She arches her chest toward Zan and presses her butt back toward Max, loving what they’re doing to her. Zan’s attention to her nipples makes her core throb, which transfers into Max through that special alien connection that lets him know just what she needs. His hand slides underneath her lace panties making her moan again when his middle finger parts her lower lips, furrowing through the warm wetness. He slips his finger inside her, coating it with her wet silk, then drags it out to lubricate her clit.

His stroking finger makes Liz quiver in delight, bringing her just to the verge of explosion, and then he stops.

“Max,” Liz begs, but he’ll have none of it. He drags his wet finger up her stomach, coming to a stop when he reaches the soft swell of her breast.

“Patience,” Max smiles with his lips against her shoulder. He trails the tip of his tongue along her skin, up the column of her throat, up to nuzzle the sensitive skin behind her ear. Goose bumps rise on her skin telling him how much she likes it.

Zan’s lips release her breast leaving her nipple hard and wet. Seconds later his mouth is covering hers, kissing her feverishly, in rough contrast to Max’s gentle caress. His hands touch her hips, feeling the soft lace that still covers her, but not for long. He peels them from her body.

Zan’s erection presses into her belly, hot skin to hot skin, driving Liz nearly crazy. She squirms against him, demanding that he give her more. She moves her hips until she works his tip between her lips. He glides along the wet silk, enjoying it just as much as she is.

The men have a game plan, one that includes teasing Liz to the brink and then denying her, to work her into a sexual frenzy, but that’s easier to plan than to actually do. Zan feels her sex coat him with her desire, feels his cockhead dip into the heat at her center, feels the need within him to take it all the way. Max scoops his arms under her legs, feeling it too, the need to be together. He holds her legs up, spreading them wide, so Zan can slip inside her.

She’s the filing inside the cookie now, Max’s chest against her back and Zan’s chest against her front. Zan rocks his hips, inching into her passage, wanting to go slow but he can’t. He pushes in all the way. He strokes her deep, savoring the sensation of her tight walls surrounding him and her juices dripping down his length.

Max holds her legs in his muscular arms; she’s so light it doesn’t take much effort on his part. His cock rubs against her ass, not an active participant now, but that’s okay. He’ll get his turn later. Zan’s movements are deep and fast, a quick start to a long night of passion. His forceful kisses smother her increasing moans as Zan drives her to the brink, and then he takes her over. Her climax spreads out from her core, traveling to Max and Zan through their connection, satisfying them all.

“That was a good one,” Zan smiles, waiting until she calms before pulling his hard length from inside her. The night is still young, and there’re still many rooms to christen, it wouldn’t be good to wear himself out yet. His cock glistens with her wetness and a sheen of sweat covers Liz’s chest. Zan trails his finger between her breasts and says, “Looks like you need a bath.”

Max lowers her legs to the floor, and they lead her to the bathroom. Liz looks around the room noticing more candlelight and flowers. A marble soaking tub is the focal point, filled with steaming water and bubble bath. While she takes all this in, Max lifts her long hair and secures it in a butterfly clip, while Zan pours them all a glass of sparkling cider. They’ll stick with the non-alcoholic type for now; Max has the good stuff on ice for later. He and Zan have developed a slight tolerance over the years and now they can actually drink a whole glass without getting toasted.

“Here,” Zan offers Liz a crystal goblet filled with the foaming drink. He hands a second one to Max, and takes one for himself, holding it out for them all to clink together. “Here’s to the bathroom, may it always keep us clean.”

“To the bathroom!” Max and Liz join in, the three of them laughing together.

Zan takes Liz’s hand and leads her to the tub, testing the water first to make sure it isn’t too hot. Satisfied with the temperature, he holds her hand while she lifts her leg and steps inside. She sinks beneath the luxurious suds, looking like a water nymph with wispy strands of dark hair falling around her face. Max joins her, and then Zan, noticeably raising the water level in the oversized tub. Max had it custom built for them, made especially for three.

They treat Liz with sweet smelling bath salts and soft wash cloths, pampering her skin. Zan drags a sponge across her shoulders, Max works another between her toes, while Liz sips contentedly from her crystal glass. She almost protests when Max takes it from her, until she sees the mischief dancing in his eyes. Time to take their water play up a notch.

The water laps around them as they form a new position; Zan leaning back against the tub wall, Liz settling between his legs, leaning back against him, and Max facing them both. Max fans his hand over the water, parting the bubbles that block his view. Liz spreads her legs wide, showing him what he wants to see. Zan lifts her hips giving Max a better angle as he slides inside her.

“Ohhh,” Liz lets out an involuntary moan. All the attention they’ve lavishing on her has gotten her highly aroused again.

Max tries to limit his movements but the water still splashes out of the tub. That’s okay though, he had special drains installed in the bathroom floor, just to catch the overflow. Max holds her hips with his large hands, giving him just the right angle to penetrate her deeply. His strong thrusts cause displacement of the water, creating a ripple effect over her clit, increasing Liz’s arousal. Zan’s hand joins the dance, his fingertips circling her mecca, raising her pleasure.

“Come on, Baby,” Zan nibbles at her earlobe, his voice husky and deep. “Come for us.”

Max hits just the right spot inside her, Zan touches her just the right way on the outside, and together they drive her to a scorching climax. Max keeps up his deep penetration until her sensual cries weaken and her shuddering body begins to relax.

“Another good one,” Zan grins at Max.

“A very good one,” Liz grins too, sighing deeply. “Where next?”

“It’s a good thing you’re insatiable,” Max grins right back at her. He climbs to his feet, water cascading down his body and dripping from his erection. He isn’t satisfied yet, but for the first time in months, maybe years, they have the whole night to themselves, with no little voices interrupting asking for “another glass of water,” or saying, “I have to go potty,” or hungry cries for late night feedings. Tonight it’s only them.

Back in a minute with the rest.
Last edited by Breathless on Sun Apr 11, 2004 3:53 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Post by Breathless » Sun Apr 11, 2004 12:41 am

School Daze con’t

Max pulls Liz to her feet, and then gives a hand to Zan. He passes out the towels, saying, “Let’s go downstairs.”

Max leads the way as they methodically move through the first floor of the house, christening every room.

Zan raises a toast to, “The study, may these book lined walls expand and enrich our minds.”

Max later raises his glass in the office, with a toast to “Prosperity.”

The three christen the livingroom with a wish for, “Long life and good health,” and then the family room, asking for the, “Laughter of children and the joy of family.”

They save Zan’s favorite room for last, though, the clean and sparkling kitchen. His bare feet pad across the room to the far counter and the feast he’s set out for them to share. He knew by the time they reached this room they’d be ready for an energy boost. He lifts a bottle of Dom Perignon from a tub of ice and pops the cork, smiling at the loud noise it makes. He quickly pours three glasses before it can foam over and hands one first to Max, then Liz.

Zan holds his glass aloft and says, “May the food always taste sweet and satisfying, the drink always plentiful and refreshing, may the bounty and love in this home never wane.”

“To the kitchen,” they all say in unison, clinking their glasses together.

After they drink, Zan sets his glass aside and turns to the tray of assorted fruits and sweets. He lifts up a grape and pops it in his mouth, then grabs a strawberry and dips it in a bowl of chocolate syrup. He holds it out, offering it to Liz, who leans forward to take it.

A drop of chocolate falls from the tip of the strawberry and lands on Liz’s breast. Zan watches it as it slowly drips down toward her nipple.

“Well,” Zan clicks his tongue, “look at that. I made a mess. I better clean it up.”

While Zan’s occupied licking Liz’s breast, Max looks around at the gleaming surfaces in the kitchen. When his gaze lands on the table, he knows just what he wants to do. He scoops Liz off her feet, much to Zan’s displeasure.

“Hey!” Zan objects when Liz’s breast pops out of his mouth.

“Close you eyes,” Max orders.

“Who, me?” Zan questions. He’s wondering what’s gotten in to Max. The kitchen is supposed to be his fantasy. They both agreed.

“Yes, you,” Max turns to look at Zan, with naked Liz draped over his arms.

The objection in Zan’s throat dies when he sees the twinkle in Max’s eyes. Max is planning something special.

“Okay,” Zan closes his eyes. He hears a creak, and then the rustling of movement around the kitchen. He hears Liz giggle, then she lets out a gasp, then she giggles again. Dying of curiosity, he asks, “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Keep ‘em closed,” Max warns.

Zan hears the familiar whoosh sound of the refrigerator door opening, followed shortly after by a stifled squeal from Liz, like she’s sucking in a breath. He hears her whisper, “That’s cold!”

Zan’s just about to object to being left in the dark when he feels Max’s hand close around his.

“Keep ‘em closed,” Max insists while leading Zan across the kitchen. When they get to their destination, Max stands behind Zan and takes him by the shoulders, positioning him exactly where he wants him.

“Okay. You can open your eyes now.”

Zan pops his eyes open and draws in a startled breath. He’s standing at the foot of the table, gaping at the sight before him. Max has set a table for a king, a feast, a cornucopia of succulent delights, atop the most delicious sight he’s ever seen. Liz lies on her back on the table, covered with fruits and sweets and other delectable morsels. Strawberries dot her chest, drizzled with chocolate. A layer of whip cream hides each breast, with two large fat raspberries serving as succulent rosy nipples. A scoop of vanilla ice cream zigzagged with chocolate syrup melts into her navel, sending out little rivulets to her sides. Whip cream hides the lips at the center of her spread legs, dotted with a rich red cherry.

“For me?” Zan asks, grinning up a storm. He’s never seen a more mouthwatering sight. He moves closer to the table, leaning into it with his bare thighs, touching Liz on the ankles, and then sliding his hands up her legs to her knees. He eyes the cherry at the apex of her legs, saying, “You look good enough to eat.”

“Hurry!” Liz tells him, trying not to squirm. “Eat the ice cream first. It’s COLD!”

Zan circles his hands around her legs and gives her a tug, shifting her bottom from the middle to his end of the table. Her legs hang over the edge now, knees bent, flanking his powerful thighs. His movements are a little rough, which excites Liz, and Max, too. They all can feel it through their connection. Zan looks down at the ice cream melting on her belly, right in the indentation of her navel. Around it is a circle of sliced bananas. A crescent of whip cream makes her belly look like it’s smiling, she’s their own living, breathing banana split. Zan scoops up a dollop of whip cream with his fingertip and puts it in his mouth.

“Yum,” he grins.

“Ice cream!” Liz reminds him. “Eat it! Quick!”

“Oh, I’m gonna eat you alright,” Zan grins. He leans over her and laps at the melting ice cream, tickling her skin with his tongue. He nibbles on the bananas and the whip cream; making his way down her body. He has a cherry to claim.

Max did this for Zan’s enjoyment, but watching the way Zan feasts on Liz arouses him, too. The strawberries on her chest look too tasty to ignore. He leans over and sucks one into his mouth, licking all the sweet juice from her skin.

Zan reaches her cherry and scoops it into his mouth. He eats it quickly and then goes back for some whip cream. He makes a deep pass with his tongue, slurping up the sweet stuff until he finds her hidden prize. His talented tongue circles her swollen clit, plays with it, teases it to the brink and then he backs off, leaving her wanting more.


Smiling mischievously, he shifts directions, nibbling his way back up to her navel, then beyond, inching higher up her ribs. Still hungry, he’s eyeing one of her raspberry topped breasts. He’s almost there when Max comes out of nowhere and snatches it up in his mouth.

“Hey! That was mine!”

“Sorry,” Max sheepishly wipes dripping berry juice from his chin. He points at the raspberry on Liz’s other breast and says, “Do you want mine?”

Zan eyes the red morsel, licking his lips, eagerly anticipating the taste. Leaning so far over Liz, his engorged cock comes into contact with her whip cream covered core. The sweet foam coats his cockhead and his shaft as it furrows between her savory lower lips.

Max grabs the bottle of chocolate syrup and dribbles it over the berry topped nipple. Caught up in the moment, he expands it in an ever widening circle around her breast, creating the visual impression of a target. Zan zeros in on it; priming his tongue like a loaded weapon.

“Oh!” Liz reacts, giggling in pleasure when Zan plucks the berry from her with his teeth. Her giggles turn to moans when his tongue swirls around her nipple, licking off the whip cream and chocolate, stimulating her with his tongue piercing. He used to have more, through his eyebrow and his nose and his lip, but he cleaned up his image years ago. Only his tongue piercing and nipple ring remain. Liz likes the way his piercings look, and how they make her feel, and how they give Zan his own individuality, a visual reminder that he’s not just a carbon copy of Max.

Zan puts his uniqueness to work now, using his tongue to do all the things Liz loves him to do, stimulating her into a heightened sexual awareness. He swirls the tip around her areola, teasing her nipple until it stands firmly erect from her breast. When he’s finished there, he makes the slow trek down her body again, where more sweet things are waiting for him to eat.

Max watches Zan work his way down Liz’s body, growing more and more aroused by their sex play. His cock stands proudly at attention, weeping with beads of excitement. Their bond links them together, physically and emotionally, allowing Zan’s rising passion to bleed into all of them. It grows into a firestorm as Zan reaches Liz’s core.

Much of the whip cream has transferred onto Zan’s thighs and his balls and his cock, but there’s still plenty for him to taste. He laps at her lips, sucking whip cream and essence of Liz into him mouth, almost drooling from the sensual taste.

Liz feels Zan’s tongue lick her from perineum to clitoris, doing wonderful things with that marvelous piercing of his. She turns her head, seeing Max standing close to her, with little beads of fluid bubbling up from the slit on the head of his cock. Zan’s tongue action on her clit is making them all highly aroused.

Liz reaches for the bottle of chocolate syrup nearby and squirts it on Max’s cock. He sucks in a gasp, surprised by the sudden sensation, then feels a surge of increased sexual desire when he sees the look on Liz’s face. He knows what she wants, and he’s more than willing to give it to her. Her hand pumps the chocolate up and down his shaft while she pulls him closer to her waiting mouth.

Max almost rolls his eyes heavenward when her mouth closes around his straining cock. She licks the chocolate from him while Zan stimulates her core, alternating between tonguing her clit and dipping his tongue deep inside her tunnel.

“Come here,” Liz says while pulling on Max’s cock. No more words are necessary; her face tells both men exactly what she wants. Max climbs onto the table, facing her, straddling her shoulders with his muscular thighs. He leans forward as she brings his cock closer to her mouth.

Zan feels the burgeoning desire flooding Liz and sweeping into him. He senses how she wants Max in her mouth and him in her core. He tongues her until he feels her thighs start to tremble and then he takes his cock in his hand lines it up, slamming it home, heedless of the residual whip cream coating them both.

Zan sinks into her deeply, then again and again, caught up in the sensual frenzy. His hands hold her hips while his heavy balls bounce against her ass, excited by the sight of his cock disappearing inside her. Max feels the same, seeing his own sex slide past her hungry lips. It isn’t long before the two men start a natural synchronized rhythm, Max pumping his cock in and out of Liz’s mouth, Zan in and out of her core. Liz moans with rising pleasure; she likes having both of them at once.

“Oh fuck,” Max hisses under his breath, feeling his balls tighten with each thrust into her mouth. He and Zan wanted to “save” their climaxes for their final destination, but her body’s too hot and the sex too intense. She gets as turned on as they do when they let themselves get carried away like this. She moans deep in her throat, the vibration of it nearly making Max unload.

Zan groans as well, almost whimpering with the need to come inside her, but waiting for that telltale sign that she’s going first. His hands tighten on her hips, holding her in place so she doesn’t slide on the table. His thrusts go deep, stimulating her internal and exterior erogenous zones, grinding the base of his cock against her clit to maximize the sensation. The whip cream gushes between their bodies, adding to the effect.

Liz cups the sacs housing Max’s balls, the taut skin pulled tight in the final stages of his arousal. Her fingers curl into the sensitive tissue there, stimulating his nerve endings while her tongue flicks and fondles the band of skin just beneath his swelling cockhead. With an unintelligible shout, Max gushes into her mouth, shuddering from the pleasure of it. His semen hits the back of her throat in a stream, and then more and more as she coaxes it from him, her mouth and hands pumping him dry. Her deep moans join Max’s guttural cry as his orgasm sweeps through her, and from her into Zan.

Zan feels her inner walls constrict around him, feels her undulating hips lift from the table to slam against him, feels her orgasmic vibrations rippling through her body and into him. Zan’s cry of ecstasy joins the others as he climaxes, filling her inner chamber with his seed. He slams into her quivering core, plowing through those tight pulsating walls, each convulsing thrust spurting another stream of semen deep inside her. Their orgasms merge and blend together through their connection, sweeping from one into the other until they all share in the overwhelming sensations.

“God,” Max breathes heavily, finally coming back down to earth. He removes his softening cock from Liz’s mouth, then climbs off her, nearly falling off the table. His body feels so satisfied his bones feel like they’ve turned to rubber.

Zan grunts as his wet cock slides out of Liz’s heat and the cooler air hits it. His entire body hums with pleasurable sensation. He snorts a laugh, looking at all the fruit and whip cream and chocolate smeared across their bodies. He’s never had a more satisfying snack in all his life.

Liz lifts up on her elbows, feeling the orgasmic afterglow tingling inside her. She sees Max drop into one of the chairs, grinning from one gorgeous ear to the other, with a sheen of chocolate and sweat on his skin. Zan captures a dollop of whip cream from her side and slowly licks it from his finger. Both of them look completely satisfied, until she says, “Who’s ‘up’ for a shower?”

Max darts a look at Zan at the same time Zan’s darting a look at Max. Their woman can be so insatiable sometimes. Max clambers to his feet while Zan pulls Liz from the table. When her feet hit the floor she takes off running, with two re-energized men hot on her heels. Liz races up the carpeted stairway and down the hall, hearing Zan’s and Max’s heavy footsteps right behind her.

Liz reaches the shower first and opens the glass door, turning on the duel spouts. Warm water and steam fills the enclosure as she steps inside, with Max and Zan crowding in behind her. The space inside is huge for one, roomy for two, and more than comfortable for three; Max made it that way on purpose. The water spray covers them all, washing away the chocolate and residual whip cream from their skin.

Max moves in close to Liz, cupping her face between his hands, satisfied to just kiss her now. A benefit of their alien physiology is a fast recovery time, allowing Max and Zan multiple orgasmic events in a quick succession, but sometimes just kissing Liz’s sweet lips is all Max needs. Her taste fills his soul and never leaves him wanting.

Zan moves in behind Liz, giving Max this intimate moment with her. They never make him feel left out, but there are occasions when Zan witnesses a moment of such deep intimacy between Max and Liz that he dampens his connection to them, giving them the privacy he thinks they deserve. They were together first, deeply committed to each other before he ever came on the scene. Their lives might have been normal if it hadn’t been for him.

Max disentangles his lips from Liz and shifts his attention to Zan. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Zan asks, knowing he’s busted.

Max’s hand cups the back of Zan’s neck, pulling him so close their noses are almost touching. Their amber eyes lock together as Max says, “Normal? What’s so great about normal?”

After a moment, the beginning of a smile breaks over Zan’s face. “Nothing,” he says, grinning wider. “Nothing at all.”

“Damn straight,” Max squeezes the back of Zan’s neck. He pulls Zan closer and lays one on him, the type of intimate kiss usually reserved just for Liz. It’s not often that it happens, but the bottle of champagne they shared in the kitchen has loosened their inhibitions. They’re two strongly heterosexual men, but they also love each other, though not usually in the physical sense. Tonight, though, Max’s sensual kiss does wonders for Zan’s latent self-doubts. Liz’s pulse quickens, watching the intimacy between her two men. She feels the love that exists between them; something beyond just the physical, a spiritual connection that is felt more than seen. Their relationship will never be normal, but for the three of them it will always be right.

When their kiss ends, both men share a look of understanding, then turn their attention back to Liz, the center of their crazy, mixed up world. They pamper her the way a Queen deserves to be pampered, washing her hair, bathing her skin, lathering her body until she’s gleaming. When their shower ends, they share the duty of drying her, Max toweling off her front, Zan getting the luxury of drying her hair, both men happy and content just to please her.

When they finish in the bathroom, Liz leads her men into their bedroom, the last room in the house left to christen.

“Wait,” Zan says, and hurries out of the room. Max and Liz hear his footsteps racing down the stairs, and then moments later he races back up again. He arrives in the bedroom doorway carrying three glasses and the half empty bottle of champagne they opened earlier in the kitchen.

“We have to toast this room properly!” Zan grins. He moves across the plush carpet and hands Max and Liz a glass, then fills each one with the last of the wine.

When the last drop is drained from the bottle, Liz holds her glass up in the air and declares, “May the love in our hearts always fill this room.”

Max lifts his glass adding a toast of his own. “May our lives in this home always be as satisfying as tonight.”

Zan shoots his hand out, clinking all their glasses together. “May the bed in this room be strong enough not to break!” The bubbles in the wine make Zan silly. Or maybe he’s just giddy with happiness. Whatever the case, he loves his life, and these two people he shares it with.

“To our new home!” they all declare together.

When they drain their wine glasses, Zan takes them and sets them on the dresser. He flips a switch on the nearby stereo, smiling at the soft melody that fills the room.

“Dance,” Zan says to Max and Liz as he takes a seat on an overstuffed chair across from the bed. “I want to watch you two dance.”

The candlelight gives the bedroom a warm, romantic feel. The rose petals floating in the air enhance the atmosphere. Zan settles in the chair, watching Max lead Liz into the center of the room, twirling her once before wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close. Zan doesn’t mind being the observer. He thinks the way they move together, the way their naked bodies melt into each other, is one of the most beautiful sights he’s ever seen. His manhood stirs between his legs, watching the intimacy of the dance.

“Do you remember this song?” Max asks, gazing down into Liz’s beautiful dark eyes.

“Every note,” Liz smiles up at him. She remembers everything about the night they shared their first kiss. How nervous he was. How excited she felt. How perfect their lips fit together.

Even without touching, their bond is so strong Zan can feel what they’re feeling; the nostalgia of their youth, when everything was new, and frightening, and thrilling. Zan wasn’t there for their first date, or their first kiss, or the first time they held hands, but he’s relived it with them, through the bond they share. When they’re connected, there are no secrets between them.

Zan relaxes back into the soft cushions of the chair, voyeuristic by nature, watching the way Max kisses Liz, as if she’s a delicate rose to be cherished. Their lips touch, mate, passionate, yet tender, a testament to the kind of love that lasts forever. Zan watches it, mesmerized by it, but he’s a part of it, too. Their bond transcends the space between them.

Max threads his hand into the silk of Liz’s hair, removing the clip to let the long strands fall around her shoulders. He drops it onto the nightstand, then presses his palm against the small of her back, holding her so close there’s no air between them. As the music plays, he slips his hand lower, following the contours of her feminine body. It’s one of the most amazing sensations in the world, touching her soft skin.

One song ends and another begins. The name of it isn’t important, only the sound of the music matters, and the way it makes them feel. Like they’re floating on air, warm and secure, with no worries or fears. Max and Liz dance, eyes locked together, communicating without ever moving their lips.

Zan feels the tightening in his groin, the quickening in his body as he watches Max lead Liz over to the bed. He sits on the edge, directly across from Zan, staring silently up at Liz. She caresses his cheek, kisses his lips lightly, knowing exactly what he wants. When she pulls her lips away, it’s to turn around, her back to his front, both of them facing Zan now. They know he likes to watch.

Liz straddles Max’s muscular thighs, feeling his large hands on her hips, helping to guide her into position. She reaches between her legs, grasps Max’s oversized erection and draws him to her passage. Max helps her lower her body onto his, breathing harder as she sheaths him in her warmth. When he’s all the way inside he pauses, eyes closed, lips against her shoulder, glorifying in how she makes him feel.

Unable to contain himself, Max lets out a husky sigh. “Liz . . .”

Zan whispers her name too, on a shaky breath, watching as they make sweet love together. He sees it all; how her breasts bounce slightly, how Max’s cock glistens as he slides in and out of her. Max slips a finger between her lower lips, parting them so Zan can clearly see the pink, swollen nub that drives her crazy. Max flicks it once, twice, smiling at the mewing sounds escaping from Liz’s throat.

“Yes,” she moans. “Yes.”

Zan moans, too, low in his throat. Her desire floods him; his body is in tune to everything they’re doing. His hand strokes up and down his erect length, tightening around the base of it when he thinks he might come too soon.

Max kisses his way up the column of Liz’s throat, asking the obvious. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” she moans, turning her head back to him, nuzzling his cheek, searching for his mouth, kissing his sensual lips.

His thrusts grow deeper, his breathing heavier. “Do you want more?”

“Yes,” her voice rises. His hand glides over her skin, up her flat stomach, up her ribs to capture a breast, squeezing, teasing her nipple, making her cry out again.

Max feels a gush of her desire flow over him, dripping down his balls. “Do you want me?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Yes,” she rides him hard. She wants his finger on her clit, to take her to that special place. He touches her everywhere but there, where she wants him to touch her the most.

“Do you want Zan?” Max asks, sucking on her throat to leave his brand.

“Yes!” Liz cries, close to orgasm but Max is intentionally teasing her, taking her to the brink and backing off.

“Who do you want?”


“Who do you want?” Max asks again.


“Who do you really want?”

“Both of you!” she cries out.

Zan bolts out of the chair, unable just to watch anymore. He crosses the room and falls to his knees in front of them. He does what he does best, what he knows she loves, what he knows is going to please Max, too. Zan’s head lowers as his tongue seeks out her swollen nub of nerves.

“Yes!” Liz nearly shouts when she feels Zan’s tongue sweep over her clit. Max has worked her into a sexual frenzy, and Zan is here now to finish her off. He flicks his pierced tongue against her clit, hearing her whimpering moans rising in volume. His tongue wanders lower until he reaches the place where they’re joined, where Max’s cock slides deeply into Liz’s slick body.

“Ahhh,” Max lets out a gasp, feeling Zan’s tongue stroke down his length. His balls tighten, that tingling sensation taking over as he rushes toward climax. Zan circles his hand around the base of Max’s cock to keep him from coming while his tongue returns to Liz, flicking over her clit until she shatters.

Her body shakes violently as Max’s cock and Zan’s tongue send her to heaven. Her moans fill the room, sweet music to her men’s ears. Her hands pull at Zan’s hair, but he doesn’t mind, he laps at her until she calms down, but it’s only a temporary lull in their sexual storm.

“That was a good one,” Zan smiles, kissing his way up her body. When they’re connected, they share everything. Max flops back against the bed, content in the afterglow of her orgasm, but still sexually charged, needing his own release. His cock, still buried deep inside her, feels the post orgasmic contractions of her inner walls.

Liz lies on Max’s chest, her back to his front, feeling his heavy breathing near her ear. Zan works his way up her body, kissing her stomach, her ribs, lingering on her breasts, urging her into arousal again. His thick erection rubs her inner thigh, leaving a wet trail on her skin.

“Come here,” Liz cups Zan’s cheeks and pulls him up to her face. His kiss is rougher than Max’s, more sexually charged after watching the two of them making love. His need bleeds into them, inflaming their own desires. Max rocks his hips, pumping his length into Liz’s passage to coat him with her wetness, then pulls out with another destination in mind. Liz gasps into Zan’s mouth as Max guides his wet cock to her back door and slowly pushes inside.

Zan waits until she’s ready, then he joins their union. His legs straddle their hips, his thighs hold his weight as his cock slides into her weeping passage. She moans in pleasure as her men fill her, synchronizing their rhythm, moving slowly at first, and then with rising speed as they’re swept into a sexual frenzy.

Her tight walls grip Max, quickly pushing him to the point of no return. He holds back, though, waiting for Zan and Liz to get there. When they climax together it’s like no other feeling in the world. Three souls all linked together; sharing a moment so intimate nothing else exists but them. Their night of sexual adventure culminates in an explosion of sensation, three voices crying out together, riding a wave of pleasure that sweeps through them all. In the aftermath they’re left bone weak and happy, a mass of arms, legs, and bodies, too tired to move. They cuddle in their mighty bed, Liz surrounded by her two strong men, drifting pleasantly toward sleep in the warmth of each other’s arms.

Just before he drifts off, Zan remembers the big news he hasn’t told them yet. The letter came amid all the excitement of graduation, but he didn’t want to just blurt it out. He wanted to wait for a special time, when it was just the three of them, and what better time than now, after spending an incredible night together? Zan extricates himself from Liz’s arms and reaches into the drawer of the nightstand on his side of the bed.

“What?” Liz sleepily protests the sudden loss of Zan’s warmth. She reaches out a hand to him, urging him to come back.

Max stirs, opening one eye, then both, curious as to what Zan’s doing.

“I have something to show you,” Zan faces them, sitting cross-legged on the bed now. He holds a legal sized envelope in one hand, tapping it on the other.

“What is it?” Liz asks, rolling onto her back. Her hand brushes her tousled hair out of her face.

Max sits up too, just enough to lean back on his elbows. He sees a special sparkle in Zan’s eyes, a secret that he’s dying to share. Curious, he waits for Zan to tell them.

“This came in the mail yesterday,” Zan begins.

Max and Liz share a look. Zan’s clearly excited by whatever it is, but they can’t help wondering why he waited so long to tell them. As Zan turns the front of the letter around, Liz sees the return address in the upper left corner. Her eyes go wide and her mouth falls open in a silent O. The words Viking Press stand out boldly on the white paper.

“You sold it?” Max blurts out, bolting up in bed.

“Yep,” Zan grins from ear to ear. Liz throws her arms around Zan’s shoulders, hugging him tightly, while Max tears the letter out of the envelope.

With the encouragement of his English Professor/advisor, Zan’s spent the last year writing a novel. It’s a tale about a boy from another world, who saves the life of the human girl he loves, and how that act brings them together. It’s not quite autobiographical, it only has two central characters instead of three, but ‘Star Crossed’ is the story of their lives.

“I knew you could do it!” Liz peppers Zan’s face with kisses. Max reads the letter quickly, then goes back to read it again.

“This is huge!” Max enthuses. “The initial press run is way more than usual for a first novel – and the commission – and the percentages – and they’re already asking about a follow up!” Max throws the letter aside and smothers Zan in a giant bear hug. “You need an agent! And a manager! You’re gonna be famous!”

Zan doesn’t have to remind anyone that they’re already ‘famous’. Max is the King of another planet, Zan helped save Earth from invading aliens. Their names are known far and wide, which probably helped in selling the book. But Zan knows the story is good, no matter whose name is on the jacket cover. It’s an ageless tale of love, and sacrifice, and ultimate victory against the odds.

With the support and encouragement of those he loves, Zan has finally found his calling. Through his words, his voice will be heard, and the world will be richer for it.

TBC . . .

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Tres Amantes - Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Post by Breathless » Mon Apr 19, 2004 2:26 am

Author: Debbi aka Breathless
Categoy: Max/Liz/Zan
Rating: NC 17

Author note: I’m back with the final vignette in this tale of three lovers. What started out as nothing more than a smutty idea turned into an actual story, with plot and everything! I hope you’ve enjoyed these glimpses into the lives of Max, Liz, and Zan, and their family. As this story comes to a close, I want to once again recognize BelevnDreamsToo as the inspiration behind it, because I never would have written it without her unrelenting pleading. I hope you’ve enjoyed it. I know I certainly have had a good time writing it!

Posted in 2 parts due to length.

Tres Amantes

Something Borrowed, Something Blue

Max lifts his eyes from the contract he’s reading, distracted by what Liz is doing at the other end of the couch. If he didn’t know better, he might be tempted to think she’s knitting another baby blanket, but those days are behind them. Adam and Grace are in their first year of college. Mizzy and Zack will be graduating in the spring.

For a moment he wonders if the women might have a secret they’re not sharing; could Isabel or Maria be pregnant again? But the thought passes quickly. Michael and Maria with their five daughters, and Isabel and Alex with their two sons, haven’t changed diapers in years. Melody, Michael’s youngest, just turned six. Max smiles, thinking about how whipped Michael is these days, living in a house full of girls.

Max turns a loving eye on Liz again, knowing that the very existence of his nieces and nephews is due to her. After the war, and the discovery of the Gandarium, her research led the way to synthesizing the bio-chemicals needed to bridge Antarian and human cells. It took years, but she finally developed a way to treat Alex’s sperm and Maria’s eggs in a gandarium based nutrient solution, which altered the human cells enough to bridge the barrier that prevented reproduction between the two species, allowing for successful fertilization. There’d been immense joy in the ‘I Know an Alien Club’ when first Isabel, and then weeks later, Maria announced their pregnancies. Then they made up for lost time, popping ‘em out like rabbits.

“What?” Liz asks, looking at Max over her knitting needles.

“Nothing,” Max shakes his head. When she quirks an eyebrow, he asks, “Who’s the blanket for?”

“Gracie,” Liz says. “The winters in New York are cold.”

“Oh,” Max sniffs a little. Gracie’s transferring to Columbia in the fall. He doesn’t like to think about his little girl going off to the big bad city all on her own, but she has her heart set on it, and Zan’s already given her a tour of the city. She owns such a big part of Max’s heart, he’s not sure how he’ll ever be able to say goodbye to her.

“How’s the contract look?” Liz asks. She stretches her foot across the couch, touching the papers he’s holding with her toes, then she drops her foot into his lap, giving him a frisky grin.

“Good,” he says, trying to retain some sense of decorum, but that’s easier said than done, especially when she’s trying to seduce him. “It’s pretty standard stuff, except this one includes a nicer percentage of the gross. If the film does well at the box office, he stands to make a mint.”

“Good for him,” Liz beams, happy with the news. “Did he say when he’s coming home?”

“In a few days,” Max tells her, knowing how much she misses Zan. So does he.

Zan’s in California right now, Hollywood to be exact. His first book, ‘Star Crossed’, flew off store shelves like crazy when it came out sixteen years ago, landing him on the top of the New York Times Bestseller list for 52 straight weeks. It might have stayed there even longer, if it hadn’t been for his second book, ‘Destiny Found’, knocking it off the top spot. Ten books and three movie deals later, Zan’s a hot commodity in the entertainment industry. It hasn’t changed him though. He’s still the same Zan.

“He’ll call soon,” she says, glancing at the phone as if she’s willing it to ring. Minutes later when it does, Max can only smile at that sixth sense of hers. She drops her knitting in her lap and grabs the phone.

“Hello?” she rushes the word out before the phone has even reached her ear.

“Hi, Baby,” Zan’s voice comes through the line loud and clear.

“Zan,” her smile lights her face. “How’s California?”

“Smoggy,” Zan tells her, the tone of it saying more than the words. He misses them, as much as they miss him.

She wants to ask how much longer he’ll be away, or if any beautiful Hollywood types are throwing themselves at him, but she’s not the jealous type. She knows him too well for that. He’s devoted to her.

“Where are you now?” she asks. She hopes he’s having a good time, not stuck alone in a lonely hotel room.

“I’m at some party,” Zan says, looking around at all the ‘beautiful people’. An up and coming actress brushes past him, intentionally pressing her surgically enhanced breasts against his arm. He’s a self-admitted breast man, but his desires are only flamed by one specific pair of breasts, on one very special lady, completely natural in every way. He moves out of the actress’s way, drawing a disgruntled pout from her. Most of the women here would sell their soul for a chance at the sexy, mysterious alien, but Zan’s never been tempted. His body might be in LA, but his heart is still in Roswell.

“Party, huh?”

“The usual,” Zan tells her. His eyes scan the room, unimpressed for the most part, but there is one young actor he’s taken a liking to. His dark, brooding looks on screen hide a wicked sense of humor and a fresh, unjaded outlook on the world. When their eyes meet, Zan gives him a nod of acknowledgement, then turns back to the phone. “Tell Max to pick up.”

Liz moves the phone away from her mouth and says, “He wants to talk to you.”

Max picks up the portable phone from the coffee table, the one that belongs in the kitchen but always seems to be in every room but there, and says, “How’s California?”

“Too far from home,” Zan says, his way of telling Max how much he misses him. Changing the subject, he says, “The pilot’s been given the go ahead.”

“Great!” Max shares the excitement he hears in Zan’s voice. The network started negotiations a few months ago to bring ‘Star Crossed’ to the small screen. Max still isn’t sure how he feels about his life playing out on TV every week, but this is Zan’s story, too. He has the right to tell it. Max wrote the contract to ensure that Zan retains full creative control, so no one can subvert their story.

“Our part’s being played by Jason somebody, I’m blanking on his last name right now, but you’ll like him,” Zan says, wandering outside with his cell phone pressed against his ear. “From the audition tapes I saw, he’ll be great. Now they just have to find the right Liz. I’m going to stay for the rest of the auditions, and then I’ll be flying home. I should be back by the weekend.”

“Good,” Liz says with relief. Their bed has been too empty without him.

The door opens at the front of the house followed by hurried footsteps. An excited female voice calls out, “Mom! Dad!”

“What’s going on?” Zan asks, hearing a commotion on the other end of the line.

“Mizzy came home for spring break,” Max tells him. The house is always full of noise when the kids are home.

Mizzy bursts into the family room, smiling from ear to ear, obviously overjoyed about something. She rushes over to the couch where her parents are sitting, thrusting out her hand for them to see. “Look! Look! Ryan proposed!”

Max drops the phone on his lap. His mouth falls open at the sight of the sparkling diamond on Mizzy’s finger. He feels a tightening in his chest and a fluttering in his stomach, reacting to what that ring means. His little girl is getting married? To that Ryan guy? No. This isn’t good. No. His little girl can’t be getting married. She’s only a baby. A sweet innocent little baby. Oh god!

“Max?” Zan says into the phone, but Max isn’t listening. He’s watching Liz jump from the couch to hug their daughter. What the hell does she think she’s doing? This is a bad thing. Max feels the need to hunt Ryan down, the dirty dog.

“Look at that,” Liz holds Mizzy’s hand, gushing over the gorgeous ring. Ryan and Mizzy met in grade school, and they’ve been inseparable ever since. Even college couldn’t keep them apart. Now in their senior year, they are ready to take the next step together. The engagement isn’t a surprise to Liz, she helped Ryan pick out the ring.

“Mom, you should have seen him,” Mizzy sighs. She’s the perfect blend of her parents; hazel eyes like her fathers’, long silky brown hair like her mother’s. She’s taller than her mother at 5’6”, but just as slim, with a straight regal nose and a soft feminine chin.

Max thinks she’s too young to get married. She should wait until she’s, oh, 50. That’s it. 50. Then she can stay his little girl for another 28 years.

Mizzy takes a seat on the edge of the coffee table while Liz sits back down on the couch next to Max.

“We went for a walk in the park,” Mizzy tells them, “and when we came to the gazebo, Ryan had it all decorated with flowers and candles and after we walked up the stairs he got down on one knee and pulled the ring out of his pocket and proposed! Isn’t he just the sweetest most romantic guy you’ve ever known?”

Liz’s face is radiant, happy for her daughter. Max is shocked speechless. When did his little girl grow up to become a woman?

“Liz?” Zan is still on the phone, wondering what the hell is going on. “Max? Somebody answer me!”

While Mizzy fills Liz in on all the details of a June wedding, Max picks the phone up from his lap. He lifts it to his ear and cuts off Zan’s babbling.

“Mizzy’s getting married.”

The two men share a stunned silence. When Zan finds his voice again, it’s to say, “I’m coming home tonight.”

* * * * *

Ryan sits stiffly on the seat of a high backed chair in the formal living room, trying to keep his foot from nervously tapping on the floor. The way his future fathers-in-law are staring at him, it’s a wonder he hasn’t crapped his pants. He’s certain he’s never going to survive their interrogation.

“So,” Max straightens the already neatly stacked documents on the coffee table in front of him. His eyes lift up to meet Ryan’s, trapping him with his penetrating gaze. “You want to marry our daughter.”

Ryan swallows hard, hoping he doesn’t choke on his own spit. He resists the urge to run his finger between his throat and his collar; his tie is strangling him. The two men on the couch across from him sit side by side, different but incredibly alike. One has short hair, the other’s is long. One is clean shaven, the other is not. One wears a dress shirt and slacks with a razor sharp crease, the other is dressed in old and faded jeans, with a form fitting black t-shirt that doesn’t quite hide the tattoos on his muscular arms. But both of them pierce Ryan with the same fear inducing gaze. When it comes to matters concerning their daughter, Max and Zan are exactly alike.

“Yes Sir,” Ryan manages to squeak out an answer to Max’s question. He darts a look from Max to Zan, adding another “Sir.”

“Why?” Zan asks.

“Because I love her,” Ryan blurts out.

He’s always loved Mizzy, for as far back as he can remember. Even back in grade school, when he used to pull her pigtails and run away. It was the only way he could get away with touching her silky hair. It’s never mattered to him that part of her isn’t human. She’s his Mizzy, that is, if her fathers will give her up.

Ryan asked her once, a long long time ago, who her real father was – Max or Zan – and her answer had been simple. She merely smiled at him and said, “Both.” That fact had never been more evident than now, staring into their identical overprotective faces. Was any man good enough for their little girl?

“Why?” Zan asks. His question is short and to the point. When it comes to vocalizing, he’s a man of few words.

“Why?” Ryan feels like a deer in the middle of the road with duel semis barreling right at him. There’s nowhere for him to run.

“Why do you love her?” Zan restates his question.

“Because . . . because she’s smart, and . . . and she’s funny . . . and . . . when I’m with her, everything feels right in my life.” Ryan slips into his Mizzy haze, thinking about all the things he loves about her. He doesn’t notice the look that passes between Max and Zan, a look of total understanding.

“She has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen,” Ryan continues. “And the softest hands I’ve ever touched, and the richest laugh I’ve ever heard. I love her because she doesn’t mind getting caught in a rainstorm without an umbrella, or sand between her toes, or her hands dirty helping me work on my car. I love the way she likes to spend her free time reading to little kids at the library, or helping at the local animal shelter. I love how generous she is, and how confident she is, and how good she is, and how being with her makes me feel like a better man.”

Ryan stops to take a breath and realizes he’s been rambling. Heat creeps up his neck to his cheeks, staining them a rosy pink. The older men are judging him by what he says. He hopes they find him worthy.

Max fingers the papers in front of him; his only visual reaction to Ryan’s little speech. But inside, the young man’s words have impacted Max deeply. He knows what it’s like to feel that kind of love. He clears his throat, determined to resume their line of questioning.

“You graduate in a few months,” Max measures his words. “Is this marriage going to impact Mizzy’s plans for medical school?”

Before Ryan can answer that, Zan interjects a question of his own. “Where are you going to live?”

“How do you plan on supporting her?” Max adds.

“What are your long term goals?” Zan fires off another question.

Ryan’s eyes dart from one man to the other as their interrogation continues. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but he loves Mizzy enough to endure anything to be with her. He’s known her family for years, first as Zack’s best friend since childhood, before he became Mizzy’s boyfriend. Thinking back on it, the interrogation he’s going through right now isn’t all that different from what he’d been subjected to the night of his and Mizzy’s first date.

“Is anyone hungry?” Liz asks, entering the living room with a tray of cookies and three tall glasses of lemonade.

Max shoots a look at Zan. They both know she’s trying to lighten the air, so Ryan doesn’t feel like he’s being eaten alive. She’s always liked the boy.

“Thank you,” Ryan lifts a cookie from the tray after Liz sets it down. He takes a bite and smiles at Liz, saying, “Oh, the good kind!”

Max and Zan both grab for a cookie. They know what ‘the good kind’ means. Liz has baked them with a generous helping of Tabasco sauce. Just before they bite into their cookies, they see how much Ryan is enjoying his. Max and Zan are both impressed by Ryan’s adventurous taste buds, until the probable reason why sinks in. Either the boy has unusual tastes for a human . . . or Ryan and Mizzy have already bonded. Max chokes at the thought. What father is happy to eat cookies with the man who deflowered his little girl?

“Are you okay, honey?” Liz pats Max on his back while he sputters on cookie crumbs.

Zan’s already finished one cookie and is reaching for a second. He’s not as disturbed by Ryan’s and Mizzy’s evident bonding. He’s the one who gave the boys their first condoms, who talked to the kids about safe sex, who made sure they acted responsibly. Max still likes to think that the extent of the sex his girls are involved in is playing dolls with Barbie and Ken.

Liz picks up Max’s papers from the coffee table and turns to take them into the study. When Max gets over his coughing fit he follows her.

“Liz, I need those.”

“No you don’t,” she sets the stack down next to the paper shredder. She picks up the first few sheets and begins feeding them into the machine.

“Liz!” Max is appalled. It took him days to prepare that prenuptial agreement.

“Honey,” Liz lets out a sigh. She turns around to face him, saying, “They don’t need a prenuptial agreement. He’s the one for Mizzy.”

“He is?” Max says, softening his tone.

She rarely talks about her visions, but Max senses that’s what she’s telling him now. That she’s seen the future for Mizzy and Ryan, and they’re meant to be together. His suspicion is confirmed when she cups his cheek gently with her hand and says, “He’s going to make her very happy.”

Max’s dour expression slowly evolves into a reluctant smile. It’s what he wants, for their children to be happy. What more could a father ask for?

* * * * *

Zan stands in front of Max, straightening his tie while Max brushes lint from the front of Zan’s tuxedo. Both men are a bit nervous, but trying hard not to show it. They don’t want to do anything that might ruin Mizzy’s special day. The door into their closet/dressing room opens and Zack walks in, a near spitting image of his fathers. His chin has that same distinctive strong curve, his throat is nearly as long and elegant, his build is sleek and powerful. His eyes are like his mother’s, though. Big, and brown, and expressive.

“Mom sent me in with these,” Zack holds out two small white rose boutonnieres. “She says it’s almost time.”

Zan pins one boutonniere to Max’s lapel while Max pins the other one on Zan’s. When they’re finished, Zack hustles them out to the vestibule where Liz is waiting. She straightens each of her men’s ties, combs her fingertips through Zan’s long hair to tame it, cups Max’s smooth cheek with her palm. When she’s done fussing, she looks at each of them and asks, “Are we ready?”

A door closes softly behind them, drawing Liz’s attention. Max and Zan turn to see the Eighth Wonder of the World, their beautiful daughter dressed in a gown of white satin, holding a bouquet of pink tipped white roses. A familiar white veil partially covers her long dark hair, the same veil her mother wore on her wedding day all those years ago. Her fathers are struck mute staring at her.

“Well?” Mizzy says with a nervous smile. “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

Zan’s the first to react. He crosses the vestibule and wraps her in his arms. His voice is thick with emotion as he whispers in her ear, “You look beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she says, leaning into him as he kisses her on the cheek. When he moves to stand on her right side, she notices that Max hasn’t moved a muscle. In a tentative voice, she says, “Daddy?”

Max lets the trapped air out of his lungs. She looks so much like her mother, for a moment he felt like he’d been transported back in time, to his own wedding day. The sound of her voice snaps him back to the present, though, and the reality of what’s about to happen. His little girl is getting married.

“Mizzy, you’re . . .”

His voice trails off, unable to express how beautiful she looks, or how special she is, or what she means to him. The words just won’t come out. But his eyes say it all, and Mizzy’s never had any problem reading her father’s face. She holds out her hand to him.

Max moves across the vestibule taking Mizzy’s outstretched hand. He brings it up to his lips and kisses it before wrapping his arms around her in a father’s hug. With his lips close to her ear, Max whispers, “I love you, honey. Be happy.”

Liz blinks back tears watching the love that exists between Mizzy and her fathers. She’s not the only one. Max clears his throat to try to remove the lump, and steps to Mizzy’s left, saying, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Mizzy links her left arm through Max’s and her right arm through Zan’s. Both men are going to walk her down the aisle. She wouldn’t have it any other way. It would have been impossible to choose between them.

Jeff Parker appears to escort his daughter into the church. Liz takes one last look at Mizzy and her fathers, feeling the tug of her heart strings as Jeff leads her away. She takes her position in front row, turning around to watch the wedding begin.

Maria lines up her 8 year old daughter Megan in front of the chapel doors, handing her a flower basket full of multi-colored rose petals. As the music changes, Maria gives her a little push to start the wedding procession. Megan steps into the church in her pink satin dress with her pink patent leather shoes, dropping a handful of flower petals on the floor every few feet. Next comes little 6 year old Melody, holding matching rings on a pillow in front of her. She follows her sister up the aisle, feeling a little nervous until she sees her father sitting in one of the front rows. She starts to wave at him and almost drops the rings. Michael beams at his girls as they walk toward him.

The bridesmaids and bridegrooms enter next; 12 year old Mackenzie Guerin on 13 year old Ian Whitman’s arm, followed by 15 year old Alex Jr. escorting 15 year old Marisa. Maria stands by the doors watching Adam, 19, leading 16 year old Michelle into the church. Maria thinks she’s seen a spark between the two teens, but Liz won’t tell. Liz knows Adam is waiting until Michelle turns 18 before he tells her how he feels. In a few years, the 3 year age difference between them won’t seem like very much. The last of the group to enter are Zack and his sister Gracie, taking their positions as best man and maid of honor when they reach the front of the church. Zack squeezes the shoulder of his nervous best friend as Ryan watches for his bride-to-be to come into view.

The music changes into the traditional wedding march, bringing the guests in attendance to their feet. Maria slips through a side door, hurrying to join Michael so she doesn’t miss anything.

Max feels a hundred pairs of eyes swing his way when he steps through the double doors into the church, but he knows he’s not the focus of their attention. He shoots a look at Zan, silently asking if he’s ready, and then in unison they step forward with their daughter between them.

The rest of the wedding is a blur; floating up the aisle to give Mizzy away, watching the exchange of vows and rings, listening to the minister announce the new bride and groom. Liz cries just as expected. Zan freshens her hankie when it gets soaked. Max tries to swallow past the persistent lump in his throat. A cheer rises up from the crowd as Ryan and Mizzy race up the center aisle of the church, starting their new life as husband and wife.

* * * * *

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Adam and Alex Jr. whip around to see Zack standing a few feet away, looking formal but relaxed with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of his tuxedo pants. Ian comes into view, poking his head up over the trunk of the car they’re decorating. His coloring is blond like Isabel’s and he’s just going into that awkward teenager stage, where he’s all arms and legs. His mouth is just like Alex’s, always turned up in a grin. Alex Jr. takes after his father too, almost 6 foot tall already, and he’s only 15.

“Silly string,” Adam holds out the can he’s just finished emptying all over Ryan’s car. Shaving cream and silly string covers every square inch of it, as well as streamers made of toilet paper. The words ‘Just Married’ are painted on the back window and Ian’s just finished tying empty cans to the back license plate.

“Do you want to do the door handle?” Alex Jr. asks, holding out the can of shaving cream to Zack.

Zack tends to be thoughtful and reserved like Max, but he has a bit of a wild side too, just like Zan. A grin breaks over his face as he reaches for the can.

Inside the reception hall, music fills the air and dancers crowd the dance floor. Max moves slowly with his arm around Mizzy’s waist and his hand curled around her fingers. Liz dances nearby with Ryan. Up on the stage, Maria sings a famous love ballad, with Zan singing right beside her. It’s evident by his silly grin that he’s had one too many glasses of champagne.

On the dance floor Liz maneuvers Ryan over to his new bride. Max will hog her if he can get away with it, but Liz isn’t about to let him. She deftly spins Mizzy away from Max and right into her new husband’s arms. Ryan is eternally grateful. Max is more than satisfied to finish the dance with his own wife. Mizzy will always be his little girl, but he thinks he’s ready to let her go now, and he’s decided Ryan isn’t such a bad guy after all. Max gets a little sappy on champagne, too.

“I will always love you,” Zan croons an old Cure song into the microphone. Maria smiles down from the stage at her husband Michael, dancing with their 6 year old daughter Melody. She stands on his toes, which is a good thing since Michael has two left feet.

Zan looks out over the crowd as he sings, drunk enough to be uninhibited, but not too drunk not to take in what he sees. The Parkers sit at a table with Philip and Diane Evans, laughing and enjoying themselves on this festive occasion. They’re probably sharing stories about their children, or maybe their grandchildren. It warms Zan’s soul, knowing that though he came into their lives late, and his initial presence was shocking to say the least, over the years they learned to embrace him in their hearts. He’s as much a member of this extended family as those who were born into it.

The world might still be curious about an alien King and his Consort, and the human girl who won their hearts, but for Max and Liz and Zan, there’s nothing unusual about it. They love each other, and that’s all there is to it.

Back with the rest in a minute . . .

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Post by Breathless » Mon Apr 19, 2004 2:27 am

Some Borrowed, Something Blue (con’t)

Max and Liz enter their home walking hand in hand, Max with his tuxedo jacket slung over one shoulder, Liz carrying her high heels to give her aching feet a break. A melodic tune drifts in from the open front door; Zan is on the front lawn singing at the moon.

“Do you think you should go get him?” Liz quirks a smile at Max. She drops her shoes on the floor; she’ll worry about putting them away tomorrow.

“He knows the way,” Max says, tossing his jacket over a chair.

The sound of singing grows closer; Zan can’t get that Cure tune out of his head. He stumbles in through the front doors with a silly grin on his face. He must have left his tuxedo jacket out on the grass; he’s not wearing it anymore. His shirt drags on the floor behind him hanging from one wrist, and his tie hangs loosely around his neck and down his bare chest. His muscles flex as he stumbles into the foyer, singing his new favorite song.

“Whenever I’m alone wiiiitttth you
You make me feel like I am home again
Whenever I’m alone wiiiitttth you
You make me feel like I am whole again”

Zan sidles up to Liz, wrapping his arm around her waist, nuzzling his lips close to her ear.

“However faaaaaaar away
I will always love you”

“You’re drunk,” Liz laughs, feeling the roughness of his cheek against hers.

“Whatever worrrrds I say
I will always love you”

Liz pulls the shirt off his hand and lets it fall to the floor. His nose burrows into her throat, tickling her, making her giggle. She turns her head to look at Max, signaling him to come over. “Let's get him upstairs.”

Max loops his arm around Zan and together they lead him up the stairs. Zan turns his head to nuzzle against Max now.

“However far away
I will always love you”

“I love you, too,” Max smiles. When they get Zan in the bedroom, Max and Liz deposit him on the bed. He lays there with his arms flopped out to the sides, grinning like a loon.

“Get his shoes,” Liz tells Max. Together they strip Zan down to his shorts. When they’re done, Liz folds Zan’s pants over the back of a chair while Max goes down stairs and out into the front yard to retrieve Zan’s jacket.

While he’s outside, Max breathes in the fresh night air, clearing the slight buzz he’s been feeling. Two glasses of champagne is his absolute limit. Zan must have had at least three. It’s a good thing they don’t have any close neighbors to watch Zan’s striptease under the stars. The security gate around the perimeter of their property assures them of the privacy they need.

Max makes his way back inside the house and closes the door behind him. The kids are staying with their cousins tonight. Max, Liz, and a drunken Zan have the house all to themselves. When he gets up to the bedroom, he sees Zan curled around his pillow, humming into it. Noises come from the direction of the master bathroom where Liz is evidently brushing her teeth. He heads that way. When he steps into the doorway, he sees Liz leaning over the sink, dressed in nothing but a towel. He watches her rinse her toothbrush and put it away, then washes the toothpaste from her mouth.

“Hey,” Liz smiles when she sees him.

“That was a fast shower,” Max says, noticing the damp strands of hair at the nape of her neck. He’d been hoping she’d wait for him, so he could help her out of her dress. He loosens his tie as he approaches her. She looks him up and down as he nears, liking what she sees. Max pulls off his tie while Liz unfastens the buttons on his shirt.

“She was beautiful today, wasn’t she?” Max says. He feels the warmth of Liz’s fingers touching his skin, warming his heart.

“Yes, she was,” Liz answers, brushing her fingertips through the gray hairs that are beginning to show at his temples. “Her father was looking pretty handsome, too.” He’s almost 50 now, but age hasn’t slowed him down. He works hard to keep his muscles toned and his libido is as strong as ever. Liz’s only concessions to age are the slight crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. Max calls them her smile lines, and god knows he’s given her a lot to smile about over the years.

When her hands push his shirt off his shoulders, Max leans down, capturing her soft lips. His hand lifts up to cup her cheek, to thread into her hair, to hold her closer. Their kisses have always been deeply intimate, a blending of their spirits, a bonding of their love. Even after all these years together, a kiss is all it takes to spark their unquenchable desire.

Max peels the towel away from her body while Liz goes for the zipper of his pants. Her fingers brush against the growing hardness inside his shorts. She feels him twitch at her touch, aroused by her gentle stroking.

Her thumbs hook around the elastic of his shorts, easing them down his hips. His pants fall to the bathroom floor, followed moments later by his boxers. Naked now, except for the pile of clothing at their feet, Max and Liz move together, her soft skin against his heated flesh. His rigid erection presses into her stomach, leaving a trail of moisture on her skin.

Liz’s hand slips between their bodies, circling around his cock, dragging her thumb over the weeping slit at the top, coating his glans with his growing desire. She smiles against Max’s lips, saying, “A little eager, are we?”

Max leans his forehead against hers, with his eyes taking on that special sparkle she always brings out in him. His hand glides along the curve of her butt, his long fingers slip between her legs, coming into contact with her wet core. Her wetness proves she’s just as eager as he is. “I could say the same for you.”

“I will always love you!”

Zan’s crooning from the bedroom makes Max and Liz laugh, but it doesn’t stop the burgeoning desire between them. Max tightens his arms around Liz and walks her backwards into the bedroom. When they reach the bed, Max pulls the covers aside and lays Liz on the sheets. He joins her there, hovering above her, knees between her thighs, moved by the love shinning in her eyes, the love he can feel flowing from her heart.

“I love you,” Max says in a voice thick with emotion. He never lets a day go by without telling her how much she means to him.

“And I love you,” Liz cups his chin, dragging her thumb along his lower lip.

“Me, too,” Zan says in a happy sappy voice, hugging his pillow.

Max lowers his head, bringing his lips into contact with Liz’s. She tastes so sweet, it’s no wonder he can never get enough. While Zan snuggles with his pillow, Max showers Liz with kisses, on her face, on her throat, on the sensitive spot behind her ear. She arches her back when he makes his way down her chest, feeling his hand sensually squeeze her left breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple to make it hard before his mouth covers it. The moan of pleasure he hears makes him want her all the more. She’s always been very vocal when they make love, letting her men know each and every spot that drives her wild. It’s one of the things Max’s loves the most, listening to her scream when they make her come. Hearing her, and feeling her hands on his back, her fingers scraping on his skin, he knows he can’t wait. He has to have her now.

His hips settle between her legs, his erect manhood probing at her core, sliding along her wet cleft, finding the opening that will take him inside her. He rocks forward into her wetness, feeling her walls stretch around his thick length, opening up to let him in. A few measured strokes later he’s embedded deep inside her, the place where he always wants to be, inside her body and her mind and her soul.

“Max . . .” Liz sighs.

He pulls back and surges forward again, building a slow pace, savoring each stroke into her body. Their stomachs press together, their navels, their ribs, her breasts soft mounds under the hard muscles of his chest. Their lips mate, their tongues duel, their breathing grows more labored.

Zan’s hand stretches out across the bed. Sensing it, Max covers Zan’s hand with his own, lacing their fingers together, linking Zan to their lovemaking. Liz reaches for him too, strengthening their three-way bond. The connection helps to sober Zan, sparking his interest in what they’re doing.

Max feels his pulse racing, his body trembling, knowing his impending release is coming fast. His thrusts take on that frantic pace, he’s almost there, he’s almost there, he feels the tightening in his balls, the nerve endings firing in the small of his back, up his spine, all building to that incredible moment, only seconds away now before he explodes inside her, his cockhead swelling with eminent release –

“You know,” Liz looks up into Max’s rapturous face. “Your daughter’s probably doing this right now.”

“LIZ!” Max cries out in shock. The image of Mizzy and Ryan together brings a screeching halt to his approaching climax. Liz’s laughter isn’t helping. He backs away from her, pulling out his softening cock.

“Max!” her eyes are sparkling and she can’t help laughing, especially when he folds his arms over his chest in a pout. He really is sensitive about his daughter’s sex life.

“Don’t ‘Max’ me,” he scolds. “That was mean.”

“I’m sorry!” she tries to sound contrite, but the look on his face is just too funny. She can’t stop the giggles.

“You don’t sound very sorry,” Max shifts over to sit on the side of the bed.

The smell of sex in the air has aroused Zan. He pushes his pillow away and crawls across the bed to kneel beside Liz, with his erection jutting out stiffly behind the fabric of his shorts. He’s still a little woozy from the champagne, but his head is clearing rapidly. He’s not sure what Max’s problem is, but if he’s done, it must be Zan’s turn.

“Max, honey,” Liz scoots across the bed, kneeling behind Max’s stiff back. Her naked breasts press into his shoulder blades, her hand caresses the toned skin of his bulging bicep, her lips lightly kiss his throat, apologizing to him. “I’m sorry. That was very mean of me. Forgive me?”

He feels her hand circle around his waist, touching him with tenderness, but he isn’t ready to forgive her yet. She knows how he is about the kids, wanting them to stay young and innocent forever. Her skilled hand drops lower, trailing her fingertips down his taut abdomen, down through the kinky strands of his pubic hair, down to the limp meat hanging between his legs. Her fingers brush over his length, cup the loose sacs of his balls, trying to make it up to him. He feels the stir of arousal, but he’s not going to admit it.

“No,” he says in answer to her question. It’s going to take more than that to get him to forgive her. Well, maybe not, Max looks down, seeing how his cock betrays him. It’s already rising to half-mast. He never can stay mad at her for long.

“You know what you need?” Zan joins in, directing his question to Max. He kneels right behind Liz, one hand on her hip, the other hand on Max’s arm. “You need to lighten up.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Max looks over his shoulder at Zan. He’s light. He’s easy. He’s wild and crazy. Okay, maybe not wild and crazy. Or light and easy. Oh Christ, is he really an old stick in the mud?

“Close your eyes,” Zan tells him.

“What?” Max arches an eyebrow. It’s unusual for Zan to order him around.

“You heard me. Close your eyes.”

Max isn’t sure what Zan is up to, but he closes his eyes anyway. Beyond the love that exists between them, there’s also immense trust. Zan and Liz share a look, she’s not sure what he’s planning, but she follows his lead. Together, they each take one of Max’s arms and pull him into the middle of the bed. Max doesn’t protest what they’re doing, but his curiosity is piqued.

When the bed dips and then springs back, Max senses that Zan isn’t on it anymore, but somewhere else in the room. He hears the dresser drawer slide open, and then moments later it slides closed again.

“What are you doing?” Max can’t help asking. He’s lying on the bed, arms out from his sides, legs spread eagle. His cock lies across his stomach, relaxed and soft again, but it won’t stay that way long.

“No peeking,” Zan warns him.

Max hears movement around the room, the rustling of the sheets as Liz moves away from him, the whispers as Liz and Zan plan some strategy. He startles when a firm grip grabs his left hand and a softer one grabs his right. He tries to open his eyes but he can’t. Zan’s put the whammy on him.

“Hey! What are you doing!?”

Max tries to pull his arms back in but there’s some kind of silky material around his wrists now. He feels the tug as the material stretches tight, pulling his arms out and above his head. He thinks he knows what they’re doing, and even as he protests, his cock swells with arousal, standing out firm and proud.

“Liz? Zan? What –”

The words are cut off when he feels the same silky fabric tighten around his ankles. A quick tug confirms his suspicions; they’re tying him to the bed. He’s spread eagle, and helpless, and thoroughly aroused. He feels the bed shift again, sensing Zan’s feet flanking his hips. With his eyes sealed closed, he can’t tell where Liz is.

“Okay, open them,” Zan says, taking off the whammy. Max’s eyes pop open and so does his mouth, taking in the incredible sight.

Zan stands above Max, one large foot on each side of his hips. He’s holding Liz in the air, her back to Zan’s front, both of them facing Max. Zan’s arms are scooped under her legs, holding them wide, exposing everything. Max lays trapped on the bed, watching Zan’s rigid cock pump in and out of Liz’s weeping passage, glistening with her wetness.

“God,” Max groans. It’s an incredible turn on, watching Zan disappear inside her.

“I don’t understand . . .” Zan tries to talk between deep thrusts. “How . . . can someone . . . who lives like us . . . be hung up . . . on sex?”

“I’m not hung up on sex,” Max denies. He has no problem sharing Liz with Zan. It feels completely natural. He just hates the thought of any man touching his little girls, though he has to admit, Mizzy isn’t a little girl anymore. It’s so much easier for Zan to see her as a woman, than for Max. It’s another one of those glaring differences between them.

“Sure you’re not,” Zan says, with his thighs beginning to quiver. He drops down to his knees, his legs flanking Max’s shoulders now, holding Liz just inches above Max’s face. Max can smell the scent of their sexes, see up close as Zan’s slick cock pumps inside her, hear the wet sounds of their bodies sliding together. Max stains forward, wanting to taste what he sees, wanting to touch his tongue to the place their bodies are joined, wanting to suckle the pink bud that gives Liz so much pleasure, or tongue Zan’s balls until he comes. How can Zan think he’s hung up on sex?

Zan lowers Liz until her knees touch the bed. She kneels on all fours over Max’s face now, while Zan nails her doggie style. The scent of their sexes fills Max’s lungs, driving his desire, driving him insane. He wants – he needs to be a part of it. His cock throbs, aching to join them, but no one will touch him. He can’t even touch himself, not with his hands and feet tied to the bed.

“Does that feel good, Baby?” Zan asks Liz. With each stroke, Zan presses Liz’s hips a little lower, spreads his legs a little wider, slowly inching closer to Max’s face. Max stretches out his throat, reaching up with his tongue, almost there, almost touching Liz, Zan, almost . . . almost . . . and then he does. Zan and Liz both react with an audible groan when Max’s tongue sweeps up Zan’s shaft to the place where he enters Liz, then finishes the arc, lavishing attention on her clit. Zan tries to maintain a steady pace, but Max’s tongue, his lips, his mouth are exhilarating. Even the roughness of Max’s five o’clock shadow is exciting. The whiskers scratch Zan’s inner thighs, his balls, the long shaft of his cock. Max’s wet tongue teases Liz, making her whimper, and then moves back down to where Zan and Liz are joined, lapping at each of Zan’s long strokes. Max opens his mouth wider, waiting for the upswing, then sucks Zan’s right nut into his mouth.

“Fuck!” Zan hisses at the sensation. His movements become jerky, only partially in control of what he’s doing. His orgasm rushes at him like a train barreling out of control. When Max switches, catching the other ball in his mouth, Zan can’t stop what’s happening. His hands tightening on Liz’s hips, slamming deeply inside her as his body unloads. His hips jerk uncontrollably as his semen fills her in pulsing streams. Alien sex is more intense in every sense of the word. Minutes later, after Zan is spent, he pulls his softening cock out of Liz’s drenched core, dribbling semen onto Max’s throat and upper chest.

“Wow,” Zan collapses onto the bed beside Max, trying to catch his breath. “That was amazing.”

Liz, on the other hand, isn’t quite done yet, and neither is Max. She lowers her hips, getting close enough so Max can easily reach her. His tongue swipes up her cleft, tasting Zan on her, alternating between probing inside her and flicking his tongue over her clit. It isn’t long before he feels her body start to shudder, and her moans fill the air.

“Max!” she explodes, grinding her crotch into his face. Her entire body shakes from the enormity of her climax. When her quivering subsides, Liz falls over to the other side of Max, sighing contentedly, sharing a contented look with Zan. They’re both deeply satisfied, humming in the afterglow of good sex and hot lovin’.

“Hey!” Max protests. “What about me?” He tugs at the restraints that hold his arms, but they’re too tight. He can’t move. His cock is in desperate need of attention. They’re not going to leave him like this . . . are they?

Zan and Liz lean over Max’s midsection, coming together to share a lingering kiss. Their loving has cleared Zan’s head completely. They’re not sure why, it’s another one of those quirky alien things, but kissing her always has a way of sobering her men up, even when they’ve had too much.

“You’re not gonna leave me like this, are you?”

Zan and Liz part lips to look down at their captive on the bed. Max’s face is flushed, his eyes wide, his pulse and respirations are racing. He’s practically begging one of them to touch him.

“Did you like that, Max?” Zan asks, looking at the mess he’s made on Max’s chest. He grins widely, adding, “I sure did.

Max feels the wetness of Zan’s semen, and then the warmth of Zan’s hand as it glows above his chest, removing the sticky substance. Liz’s hand touches Max’s inner thigh, caressing him just a hair’s breadth from his balls, causing renewed desire to surge through him. Her finger slides deeper, toward the back of his thigh and upward, probing between the cleft of his ass, touching his most intimate places.

“Liz!” Max cries out, arching his hips up off the bed.

“Is that a yes, Max?” she asks, teasing him with just the brush of her fingertips, leaving him begging for more. “Do you like me doing that?”

“Yes!” Max pants with increasing excitement. Another sensation is added to the mix, Zan with a feather in his hand, trailing it down Max’s throat, along his shoulder, tickling his underarms. Max squirms from the sensation, unable to get away from it, but not really wanting to. Zan moves the feather down Max’s stomach, all the way down to his thighs, then back up over his balls, up the rock hard shaft of his cock, circling around the swollen head, wetting the feather with the droplets of moisture bubbling up from the slit.

“Please,” Max begs, thrusting his hips upward again. The silk scarves keep him restrained to the bed, leaving him completely at their mercy. It’s exhilarating and exasperating at the same time.

“Please what?” Zan strokes Max’s cock with the feather.

“Touch me! TOUCH ME!”

Zan shoots a wicked grin at Liz, sharing a knowing look with her. When Max loses control it’s explosive. Zan rests his hand flat against Max’s stomach and asks him, “You mean here?”

“No,” Max growls. “LOWER!”

“You mean . . . here?” Zan inches his hand downward, burrowing his fingers through Max’s pubic hair.

“Yes,” Max pants. “Lower!”

“You mean . . . here?” Zan circles his hand around the base of Max’s cock, cupping his tight balls with his palm. “You like to be touched here?”

“YES!” Max involuntarily thrusts upwards again. “YES!”

“And here?” Liz circles her hand right hand around the midsection of Max’s thick sex. She leans forward, swirling her tongue around his swollen cockhead, smiling when Max lets out a gasp.

“God YES!”

Liz pumps her hand slowly while covering the head of Max’s cock with her mouth. He thrusts harder, trying to get her to take more of him in. Liz obliges by taking him deeper, all the way to the back of her throat, working him into a frenzy of sexual need. He pulls at the silk scarves, wanting to hold her head between his hands, but he can’t get free. It only serves to excite him more, building him to a rapid climax. Liz slips a finger between his butt cheeks, finding the tight circle, pushing her finger inside him to add to the fire.

“LIZ!” Max arches off the bed, driving his cock deep into her mouth. He’s going to explode any moment. He knows it. He feels it coming. Her finger pressing against his prostrate is doing him in, but just when he’s ready to come Zan tightens his hand around the base of Max’s cock, cutting off the flow.

“Fuck!” Max shouts. “FUCK!” How can they tease him like this, taking him right to the brink and then denying him? His body screams, needing release.

“Patience,” Zan takes a nip at Max’s inner thigh, smiling when it makes Max gasp again. When they finally let him come, it will be shattering.

“Take these off!” Max demands, tugging on his restraints, but he falls into incoherent moaning when Liz begins to lick his balls. Moments later a second tongue is there, double the pleasure, double the fun. Max looks down to see both Zan and Liz sucking on his balls. He gasps at the sensation, hissing through his teeth. “Jesus! Fuck me. . . fuck me . . . fuck me now!”

It’s not often that Max uses gutter language, but when he does they know they’ve made him loose complete control. Zan and Liz share another look, ready to take things to the next level. They shift position, Liz kissing her way up Max’s stomach, straddling his hips, with Zan right behind her. He strokes his thickening cock between her legs, coating himself with her wetness.

“God,” Max moans, feeling Liz nipping at his chest. They’re driving him crazy.

Zan pulls Liz back against his chest, sliding his hands around her waist, down between her legs, parting her lower lips with his fingers, showing Max the pink nub of her swollen clitoris. He flicks it with his finger making Liz gasp this time. Max can’t take his eyes off what they’re doing.

“Are you hot, Baby?” Zan breathes into Liz’s ear. “Do you wanna ride him?”

“Yes,” she moans, feeling Zan’s finger glide along her folds and then slide inside her. When he pulls it out he reaches for Max’s rock hard cock, wiping her silken moisture down the length of his sex.

“Do you feel that, Max?” Zan asks.

“Yes,” Max groans. “Yes! Do it! DO IT!”

“This?” Zan circles his hand around Max’s cock, bending it back to drag along the tip along her wet folds. He teases Max at her entrance, letting him think he can have her.

“DO IT!”

“Patience!” Zan teases again. He’s not ready to give Max what he wants yet. He releases Max’s cock and slips his finger inside of Liz again, making sure Max can see everything he’s doing.

“She likes this,” Zan says, watching how riveted Max is to what he’s doing. “She likes it even better when I do this,” Zan tells him, massaging her clit until she’s quivering.

“Zan!” Liz cries out, nearly overcome by what he’s doing to her. It’s not just Max in a sexual frenzy anymore.

“She wants you,” Zan tells Max, grasping her hips between his hands. “She wants me, too. Do we both get to have her?”

“Yes!” Max and Liz shout at the same time. All three of them want the same thing.

Zan leans Liz forward and drills his hard length into her weeping core. After a few deep strokes to coat him with her essence, Zan pulls his cock free to let Liz give Max what he’s begging for. Max feels her hand on him now, sees her guide his straining cock to the center of her body, gasps when he feels her wet heat surrounding him. She slides down the length of him, taking him inside her treasure.

“Liz!” Max shouts out again, bucking his hips upward, driving as deep as he can go. His hips jerk wildly, entering her over and over, almost frantic in his need to come. His desperation bleeds into Liz making her ride him hard. She grinds her clit against his pubic bone, feeling the sexual tension soar. She leans forward pressing her hands against Max’s chest, opening herself up for Zan. He eagerly accepts her offer, parting the cheeks of her ass, using Liz’s own wetness to ease his way inside her. He tries to go slowly so it won’t hurt her, but Max is too out of control. Zan thrusts into her deeply as their passion floods him.

“God! GOD!” Zan calls out. He rides Liz as hard as Liz rides Max. Together they reach unimaginable heights of pleasure, their bodies soaring on a sexual plane of existence unlike anything else in the world. When they come together it’s beyond description, bodies and souls joined as one, forever together.

Their cries fill the house, a beautiful noise unlike any other. When they’re spent they collapse on each other, sighing deeply, satisfied beyond words. Liz breathes heavily against Max’s throat, curling into his side. She reaches across Max’s chest to grip Zan’s hand, entwining their fingers above Max’s heart, feeling how rapid his heart is beating beneath his skin.

“Did you like that Max?” Liz kisses his throat, his chin, warmed by the heat emanating from his body.

“Yeah,” Max says with a lazy grin. He kisses her forehead, then turns to Zan on his left side. “That was amazing.”

“We aim to please,” Zan grins with his head resting on Max’s bicep. He yawns, sliding blissfully into a contented sleep. A wedding, champagne, and a night of good lovin’ have finally caught up to him.

Liz isn’t far behind. Her eyelids droop, unable to fight off sleep any longer. She floats in that blissful place, somewhere between awake and asleep, hearing the things around her but too far gone to respond.

“Liz?” Max says, but she doesn’t move. “Zan?”

He looks from one to the other, but they’re dead to the world.

“Liz?” his voice gets a little louder. “Zan? Can one of you untie me?”

Eventually, Liz and Zan will release Max, Liz kissing the red marks caused when he pulled too hard on the silk scarves, Zan healing his wrists with his gentle touch. But the bond that ties them together will always remain, their hearts and souls are inseparably linked. The three of them will remain united, long life and good health a benefit of alien genes and healing ability, until in the due course of time, they pass from this world into the next. But Liz knows even death won’t part them; their connection will live on, moving from this plane of existence into another, three lovers who will never be apart.

And years from now when they leave this world together, they’ll leave a legacy behind them. Their children will flourish, and their children’s children, a new species emerging, a human evolution combining the best of two worlds, all of it possible because . . .

Once upon a time, two boys loved a girl, and the whole world changed because of it.

The End
Last edited by Breathless on Tue Apr 20, 2004 9:25 pm, edited 1 time in total.