Welcome to

The return of the girls’ consciousnesses was a joyous, chaotic symphony in my mind, but it came with a shared, throbbing accompaniment of cramps and a collective craving for dark chocolate that was near-deafening. We spent the first day in a heap of blankets, a five-story tall entity groaning in unison while Elise, our saint, administered tea, heating pads the size of throw rugs, and an entire tray of gourmet brownies.

By the second day, the sharp edge of the discomfort had softened into a dull, persistent ache, and a different kind of need began to hum through our shared body. It was a need for reconnection, for intimacy that wasn’t defined by shared suffering, but by shared pleasure. The focus of that need was squarely on me, Josh, and on Elise.

“You held the fort,” Stacey’s voice murmured in our mind, her tone thick with gratitude and a sly, loving intent. “Now it’s your turn to take the lead. All of it. We’ll just… watch.”

A flutter of agreement came from the others—curious, supportive, and deeply aroused at the prospect.

That evening, the atmosphere in our bedroom was charged with a new kind of electricity. Elise looked up at our colossal form, her eyes soft and understanding. She knew what was coming. She could feel the shift in our shared presence, the singular focus of my consciousness taking the driver’s seat, with five eager, loving backseat drivers.

“Okay, Josh,” Hannah’s voice piped up, eager and coaching. “First rule: confidence! You’re a god in a goddess’s body. Own it!”

I took a breath, feeling the immense power of the form as my own. I stepped forward, the movement more confident now, and knelt before Elise. My hands—my hands—reached for her, and they were steady.

“Start slow,” Zoe advised, her mental voice a smooth, rhythmic flow. “Remember the dance. It’s all in the hips. A gentle ginga, feel the rhythm of her.”

I did. I pulled Elise close, our bodies aligning. I began to move, a slow, rocking motion that was all gentle friction and building heat. Elise gasped, her hands coming to rest on the vast curve of my hips, her head tilting back.

“See? She loves it,” Chloe’s supportive thought chimed in. “Now kiss her, Josh. Make her feel safe. Make her feel yours.”

I bent my head—a movement that still felt awe-inspiring—and captured her lips with mine. The kiss was deep, slow, and utterly controlled by me. I could feel the girls’ collective sigh of pleasure at the sensation, a wave of vicarious enjoyment.

“Okay, time to step it up!” Hannah urged. “Lay her back. Let her see all of you.”

I guided Elise onto the bed, following her down. The sight of her, small and willing beneath our immense form, sent a jolt of pure power through me.

“Your hands, Josh,” Maya instructed, her voice calm and precise. “Don’t forget your tools. Use your fingers. Trace her. Find the pressure points of pleasure. The inner thigh, just there. Yes.”

I followed her guidance, my touch becoming more deliberate, more knowing. I used my fingers to trace circles on Elise’s stomach, her hips, dipping down to tease the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Her breath hitched, her back arching.

“Now, the main event,” Stacey’s voice was a low, hungry thrum in my mind. “Slowly. Make her beg for it.”

I positioned myself. The anticipation from the girls was a palpable force, a shared, held breath. I entered her, a slow, inexorable slide that was all my doing. The feeling was breathtakingly intense, a feedback loop of my own pleasure and the five-fold ecstasy of the girls experiencing it through me.

“Oh yeah, that’s the stuff,” Hannah cheered.
“The rhythm, Josh, find the rhythm she likes,” Zoe coached.
“Deeper,” Stacey commanded, her own desire sharp and clear. “She can take all of you.”

I obeyed, my thrusts growing deeper, more powerful. Elise was moaning freely now, her nails scraping against the skin of my arms. The room filled with the sound of our joining, of her pleasured cries and my ragged breaths.

“She’s close,” Brianna whispered, her empathy giving her a perfect read on Elise’s state. “Don’t stop. Tell her. Tell her who’s making her feel this way.”

I leaned down, my voice a guttural, possessive growl that was entirely my own, yet amplified by the chorus in my head. “Come for me, Elise. Come for your husband.”

It was the catalyst. She shattered, her climax a violent, trembling wave that crashed over her. Her internal muscles clenched around me, and that, combined with the psychic shout of joy from the five women in my head, pushed me over the edge instantly. My own release was a roaring, blinding thing, a tidal wave of pleasure that I rode for what felt like an eternity.

I collapsed beside her, spent, the massive form shuddering with the aftershocks. The silence in my head was no longer hollow, but satiated, filled with a warm, post-coital glow from five very satisfied spectators.

Elise curled into my side, her head on my chest. “My Josh,” she whispered mentally, her love a gentle wave aimed solely at me.

“Whoo! Yeah! Go Josh!” Hannah’s thought was a joyful explosion.
“That was beautifully done,” Maya approved.
“We knew you had it in you,” Chloe added lovingly.
“Welcome to the club, officially,” Stacey finished, her voice thick with pride and shared exhaustion.

For a long time, we just lay there. I was Josh. I was myself. But I was also never alone. I was the nucleus of a beautiful, bizarre, and incredibly loving family. And as the gentle, rhythmic cramps of five synchronized periods began to make themselves known again, I could only laugh, a rich, deep sound that vibrated through our entire, incredible, shared body.