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"I can and I do. I've knocked her up four times already, you think I can't tell?"
I'm distracted watching the ladies take off their robes. We're far enough away that I can't make out anything but vague shapes – the only reason we're even allowed to be out here without masks is we're far enough away that they wouldn't be able to see our faces if they turned around – but I can see enough.
Paula is in the sort of bikini Taylor wears when she's at my pool, all thick straps and the solid coverage of a boy-cut bottom. Lisa, Crystal, and Addison are in the sort of bikinis Taylor wears when she's not home and doesn't think I know about because she doesn't understand that I can, in fact, use Instagram. From this distance, I can't even see the strings. I have to assume they are wearing bottoms based on the side profile I see of their scant bra cups.
Baylee, meanwhile, wears something similar to the last bathing suit Sophie wore before she got really self-conscious about her body and we all decided it was better to let her have this phase in peace than pressure her.
That was when she was eleven.
Baylee is wearing a child's bathing suit. One piece, full coverage in the back. The legs are cut low like a full bodysuit. I swear I even see ruffles. I can't tell the print, but it's pastel.
I process this before Steve's words sink in, and then they hit me. "Wait, you already have four kids with Crystal?"
"Notwithher," he insists as he pulls out his phone to show off his herd of children, the oldest maybe eight or nine. He has brown hair a shade darker than mine, but every one of those kids have red mops on their heads. "They're mine. She just had them for me. She's the only one I've gotten pregnant here, but I've done it four times – five now," he corrects with a wink.
I'm shocked. I only found out that this was a thing last year after Luke told me he'd gotten a girl pregnant and then retracted that a week later and I pushed for details. And yeah, he'd described it as something of a sport for the men, with return players, but I assumed that it was men who hadn't gotten a kid the first time trying again. "How often do you do this?"
"Every year," he boasts proudly. "Didn't get any winners the first couple years, but Crystal's my lucky charm."
"The rest of you, do you all have kids from this already?"
Crenshaw nods, which explains how he has six kids. He's a weird bird, so I was surprised when he told me that yesterday. Will and Garrett nod as well.
I glance back down to the beach. Three of the girls have wandered out into the shallows and are splashing at each other; Addison and Baylee remain at the chairs. They seem to be facing each other. Are they actually chatting? Is Baylee being friendly for the first time this trip?
Is my child already in its earliest moments in her womb? I came in Crystal yesterday, but I'm thinking that was poorly-spent semen. The rest of it all went to Baylee.
"Do you think it's better to fuck the same woman over and over again or spread it equally amongst them?" I posit.
This strikes up a far more in-depth conversation than I was expecting. Crenshaw is a geneticist, it turns out. Mike is a gynecologist. Everyone else is an internet expert. Apparently I’m the one who messed up by not sifting through the darker parts of YouTube for this.
My attention drifts back to the beach. A casual glance, but I practically give myself whiplash when I see Baylee pulling the straps down off her shoulders. She was naked for me yesterday, but this is different. Nude sunbathing is a whole other beast from naked and filled with cocks. It's one of those intriguingly naughty but innocent acts.
I bet she's never done it before, but Addison's proposed it. Being the brat she is, she won't admit that she's uncomfortable with it. She bares her breasts with those deliciously puffed nipples and, sure enough, lays a not-so-subtle arm over her chest.
Did she forget that she's wearing that one-piece? She's going to have to fully strip. If she's not careful, her pussy's gonna end up as raw as her ass cheeks, and she's probably not thinking about it or willing to ask Addison. She doesn't even have a towel down.
I tighten my lips to hide my grin over the shame she must be feeling right now.
She stands. Brave little brat that she is, she stands and pulls her bathing suit down for all the tiny world that this is to see. She looks up and down the beach – is it really private, she must be wondering – but then, the unexpected.
She takes off in a sprint to the shore, jumping into the water. Not diving in, not going more than knee deep before she spins around and plants her fists to her hips, staring back at the house.
Back at me.
Fucking. Brat.
My blood pressure rises, my cock with it. She's teasing me. She knows I can't touch her for another three hours. She thinks she's safe.
She's not.
"Does it even matter?" Luke yells over the heated discussion behind me. I have no idea who took which side or if anyone is winning. "What fun is banging one pussy when there are five spread wide for us?"
He laughs loudly — unnaturally loudly for him. He’s been acting weird today. Then again, so have I. I chalk it up to the environment. Most of the men join him. Glasses are raised, a toast to this whole ridiculous weekend.
I raise my glass. There are a million things we could say here, cheers or salut or slainte, pick the language. Instead, I say, "Every single one of you will bang Baylee tonight, and you will spread her open like a Thanksgiving turkey."
A heartbeat of silence, a weird glare from Luke, and then Mike yells, "Mazel tov!"
