Hushed Willows it hurts until it doesn't

There was something lovely about the number three — something that the number two just didn’t quite possess. Two was balanced and fine, but three was decadent and cushy. Two’s company but three’s a crowd, in the best way possible, because there was not one soul to love but two. Both held in equal esteem, both occupying a similar-but-different place in her heart. Two souls who loved her, not for what she represented but for who she was, and were determined to ride the waves of this earthly existence together. It was no surprise that the three wives held similar dispositions, and their coats were different variations of the same shades — that was how the universe worked, in signs and symbols and non-coincidences.

Delight pressed against her and Olive returned his presence, leaning her body into the warm of his own. Their crowns brushed against each others and she lingered there, enjoying the energetic connection that sparked from such a proximity. There were no more words that needed to be said; nothing that could explain the strange brew of excitement and trepidation that they all experienced in varying amounts. There was no where to go from here but up, and breech barriers they had never before breeched, and pushed limits that they previously believed to be immovable. Olive was certain they would surprise themselves with how well they would rise to the occasion. 


Olive nestled her nose into the velvet of Delight’s cheek, but then turned to regard Seabreeze, offering her a kiss of her own. The sea sprite was bright and eager to accept her advances, receiving the affections and then delivering them to Delight. Seabreeze sidled up close to her friend from long-ago, the one with whom Olive had always suspected Seabreeze wanted something more, and she tried to fan the fire that burned between them — her ivory plume hung low, sweeping from side to side, tickling the ankles and thighs of whomever she could reach while stirring the haze of pheromones that hung around them. To see Seabreeze so desirous, and Delight so willing, was one of the most beautiful sights she could behold. She wished she could paint it and hang it on a wall for all to see; but the actual experience of it was only hers. 

“Come,” Seabreeze suggested cheekily to the both of them, “to the rose garden.”