Ross held them close after each encounter, never rushing, never pulling away.
His arms became a sanctuary, his voice a balm as he whispered how much he loved them, how beautiful they were, how lucky he felt every single day.
They clung to those words, wrapping themselves in them like the soft blankets they draped over their bodies in between each shared moment.
And his wives loved him back with equal intensity.
They praised his strength, his tenderness, his unwavering care—not just as a lover, but as a man, a father, a partner.
They touched him not just to spark pleasure, but to remind him that he was theirs, body and soul.
By the time the week ended, they lay together in the master bedroom, limbs entwined, skin flushed, the scent of their love still lingering in the air like incense.
The windows were open, the wind soft, the world quiet. A moment of stillness finally arrived.
No one spoke for a long while. There was no need.
