So yeah. Auction ladies, this one's for you.

Edward

Nothing prepares you for this.

"They're perfect." The Good Doctor would know. I bet he was using some sort of generalized anthropomorphic guide to gauge the likelihood of their growth based off of Bella's imperfect measurements. At least that was the excuse he always gave me whenever he checked out her tits and ass.

"I can't wait to take them shopping." Mommy Number 7 had dropped out of FIDM the moment Carlisle proposed. She spent as much on one Fendi bag as I did on a week's supply of Macallan's.

"Dudes," Emmett said, waltzing in and draping a veiny arm around my neck. "You're fucked."

"Eighteen years until they're legal, Emmett," Rosalie crisply reminded him. She primly set a vase of blood-red roses (Bella was allergic and Rose knew it) on the wide windowsill of the room.

It had been the most harrowing seven months of my life. I looked like hell, but I knew I still had it since every nurse on the floor kept giving me sidelong glances.

Too bad for them. I had my hot piece of ass wife. Even if she had a lot of baby weight to shed.

Squealing and clacking alerted us to Alice's presence in the hallway.

"I'm here!" She was all tissue paper and South Beach Revisited procedurals and the new Miley Fragrance as she bustled in, chirping and cooing. Seven years had calmed her, but shit like this turned every woman into an unreasonable ball of baby fever.

Then the smell of Chanel and cigars settled over us as Mother and Renee floated in, arms linked with matching Dior sunglasses in place. They elbowed past Carlisle, and Mommy Number 7 had mysteriously vanished.

"Where're my babies?" Renee demanded. She smacked Emmett's ass and put her arm around his waist, bumping hips with him so he'd move over. Rosalie scowled at the two of them, but I was the only one who picked up on it.

I got a quick glimpse of the three clear, plastic cribs before my girls were again hidden from my view.

"Where'd they go? Make them come back! Are they gonna be okay?" Renee demanded. She was shaking Bella's arm and Emmett chuckled before whisking her off to the side. He looked over his shoulder and mouthed fucked at me one more time, so I gave him the finger before turning down to make sure Bella was okay.

She looked utterly exhausted and peaked in the non-sex way; she looked amazing. Dark circles, pale and wan. Glowing eyes that had a shiny fervor I usually only saw when she was about to cross verbal swords with Rosalie or when Jasper had a new/old record or I came home sweaty wearing only scrub bottoms and a black 'beater. She sighed and held her hand up; I grabbed it before Alice or Jasper could call dibs.

"They'll be fine, Renee. They're tiny, but Carlisle and I will be on the NICU doc's ass night and day. They shouldn't've been down here, but well. No one says no to me. Not to my face, anyway," I explained, kissing Bell's sweaty forehead and feeling the salt of her sweat dry on my lips as I pulled back. She smiled weakly and I squeezed her hand. My girls were going to be fine. They'd damned well better be, with all the new Cullen money flowing through the new machines in the L&D unit here at the Forks Medical Center, fuck. The Good Doctor's first of many gifts to his heirs.

"You're naming one of them after me, right?" Alice looked up expectantly. So did Renee, Esme, and Colleen, who had just walked in, dragging Tal behind her. All of Fork's Finest were here to witness a miracle-

-Edward Cullen was going to raise female triplets.

Girls.

Fuck me. Gently. With the entire Snap-On catalog's arsenal of power tools.

Seventeen Years Later

"No way." Absolutely not.

"Daddy. You overreact to everything."

"Yeah, Daddy. It's not like this is new for us."

"Come on, Edward. You and Mom probably pulled way worse shit when you were even younger than we are."

"Edward." I felt cool arms and the scent of Noxzema float into my nostrils, irritating me because it was so fucking calming. Years and years of cheap cold cream use had made me associate the smell with the Love of my life.

"I think you should let them go." Bella used her Edward manipulation voice, half-whispering into my ear. Cheater.

"Do you think it's wise to send your three hot and personable under-aged daughters to a foreign country for spring break when they could just as easily have cheap, drunken encounters here in the great state of Washington?"

"Do you really think having the house to ourselves for an entire week is a bad thing?"

My wife has a way with words. Must be that PhD in English Lit.

"Daddy, please?" Fucking ridiculous. Four females ganging up on me before I'd even read The Journal or had my Italian Roast. They were like a Greek chorus, judging me for my myopic view of spring break while simultaneously looking like the sweet babies I'd been spoiling since the day each had leveled me with their mother's eyes.

I snapped my paper open to the front page and pretended to be interested in the cost of textiles in Indonesia. Taking a scalding sip of my imported coffee, I let the burn color my voice as I responded to their appealing little pleas.

"I'll think about it."

I pretended to ignore the four of them smirking at each other.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Dude. You're fucked." Later that day, I found myself in Emmett's basement. He had found it incredibly amusing when he and Rosalie had purchased one of the old Masen properties outside of town that there was an unfinished room underneath the house. He had decided to make it "his" and furnished it to look like some throwback to seventies key parties. There was even a fucking Barcalounger, which of course Jasper had claimed as his years ago. I had threatened Emmett with telling Rose about Atlantic City Freshman Year of College if he went through on his plans to put in a fucking velvet Elvis painting, though. Fuck, Emmett. I liked tacky kitsch as much as the next guy, but Edward Cullen has his damned limits.

"Fuck you, Ludacris. You and your adopted foreigner children."

"Hey, buddy. Just because my wife doesn't want to accommodate anything through her vadge except Biggie Smalls here, don't mean you gotta hate."

"Crimoney, Emm," Jasper called out from his chair. "Quit talking about Rosalie's parts. We have bigger, more important things to discuss."

"Such as?" I asked wearily. I leaned forward onto the Formica countertop, reaching out for the glass that Emmett was filling with three fingers full of Dewar's. I swigged the scotch and swiveled around on the cushy stool to face Jasper. He face looked exactly like his mother's did when she was thirty-five, minus the makeup and minimized laugh lines courtesy of La Mer and copious sunscreen applications. I shook my head to avoid studying Jasper's face for too long. The biggest fight Bell and I had back in College was when she got drunk and had rhapsodized about Jasper's luscious lips for an hour. Of course, the bastard had mocked me for getting jealous of his mouth for weeks after because Bella still, to this day, tells Jasper every fucking little thing.

I already knew what Jasper was going to say, anyway. Ever since the girls had turned twelve and started "developing", they had been the topic of every fucking conversation started in this here basement the moment I walked in the door. It had taken a pretty serious fist fight that had gotten Emmett a busted jaw and Jasper a chipped tooth before they realized that Edward Cullen was not fucking amused by people referring to the Cullen Triplets as "their ultimate fantasy".

"As long as you A-holes leave the girls out of it, I don't care what you talk about," I mumbled, draining my glass. Jasper chuckled into his gin & Seven-Up, rattling the ice cubes around before rubbing his gums with the tip of his finger, reminding me of those years when he decided coke would "take his guitar playing to a new level." Idiot.

"What are you bitching about now?" Emmett asked. I swiveled back around to face him, knowing he was looking for a reason to bring up the girls. They were turning eighteen soon, right around the time they graduated. Emmett thought it was fucking hilarious that the girls wanted to go on vacation to a tropical place in the heat, and I thought it was hilarious that he obviously wanted to be socked for thinking about my scantily clad daughters. The last thing I needed was for Emmett to start rehashing his "me and the three" pervy fetish dream while I punched him in his fat throat.

He was rolling the sleeves of his Brooks & Dunn shirt up around his elbows, the sinewed and steroidal arms flexing as he jostled the silver bartender shaker around. The ice was clanging and sounding like rhythmic maracas, and Emmett was practically bellydancing as he shook. Jasper was in "his" leathery chair as per usual, the only stipulation he had for hanging out in the ridiculous basement that we hung out in every night when we weren't in Vegas or making appearances for charity or on vacation.

"The girls, Ass. The girls. Spring break. Cancun. Bikinis, boys, and blue agave." Fuck. I have a headache.

"Dude, you're fucked. And seriously, brah, I think Bella's given you an STD. Can ovaries be sexually transmitted?" I stabbed an olive with a plastic cocktail sword and lobbed it at Emmett, hitting him square in the center of his smug fucking face.

"Nah. I agree with pretty boy," Jasper drawled, walking over to the record-spinning Wurlitzer he had bought Emmett for his thirtieth. Jasper stretched out and rested his palms on top of it, eyeing the selection with a wrinkle in his brow.

"Why'd you take out the Pretenders, E-Funk? Anyway, I've seen the new bikinis. Alice took the girls out to LA last week. Edward should be worried." Jasper let a small smile curl his lip before turning back and punching his selection. Bad Company filtered out from the juke.

At the same time I muttered "fuck" and rested my head on the bar, Emmett slammed his fist on the bartop. "I missed a show? Dammit. I hang out with my woman too much."

"Bella modeled her bikini, too." Jasper is so fucking hilarious. His eyes smirked as he said it, even if his mouth stayed neutral.

"That is it." Emmett pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket and punched a button.

"Call Bella." Shit. I made to grab it, so he turned around, his hulking back covering my field of vision. I started to lob more olives at him. They left wet spots and a splotch of pimiento on him, but he didn't seem to notice. Or care.

"Bell, Edward says spring break is a go if we can see the bikinis." Dick dick dick dick. I climbed over the countertop, but he reached behind himself and put a hand on my face. He had spoken so quickly that the phone call was over by the time I had one knee on the bar. He ended with "We'll be there in twenty," snapping his phone shut with a loud smack.

"Ass. Hole." I grabbed the first bottle of brown liquid I saw- Gentleman's Jack, fine by me. I hopped down neatly, screwing off the cap. I was nearly bowled over by Emmett's father as I took my first big swig. Blaine jogged in wearing a yellow sweater with Emmett's dimples lining his rugged face.

"Did I hear the magical words 'bikini', 'see', and 'we'?" he boomed.

"Pops, you do me proud," Emmett declared. Swig swig. Assholes. You'd think a guy's daughters would be safe, but nooooo. This was already in motion and I knew it; I also knew that I'd never win if I decided to fight it.

Didn't mean I couldn't be a complete ass about it.

Emmett grabbed a handful of cigars and hastily shoved them next to his cell phone while Jasper licked the tips of his pinkies and smoothed his sideburns down, using the chromed blender as a mirror. I just stood there, pouting and taking ever-increasing swigs from the filched Jack.

"Let's go, losers," Blaine said while walking out the door. I really had no choice but to follow them to the latest midlife-crisis-mobile (a "super tricked out" El Camino Jasper had overseen the purchase of) and supervise their outing. Calling out "hup", I tossed my bottle at Jasper and he caught it one-handed, settling in as I crawled into the bed.

"Give it up, bitch," I growled, snatching the bottle from his fingers. He had managed a big gulp before I got to it, but whatever.

Jasper knocked on the glass and like that, we were off- me guzzling, Jasper whistling despite the dust kicked up by Blaine's erratic driving, Emmett howling the lyrics of a rap song I didn't know.

We pulled into the graveled driveway of my incredibly expensive, non-inherited property just to be assaulted by the latest in soul-crushing synthetic hip hop beats that were pouring out of my custom-built, house-wide sound system. There were about fifteen cars up on my lawn; these assholes always assumed that the Cullen's gardener wouldn't mind. Jack offs.

I guzzled the last few mouthfuls of Jack and slowly crawled out of the convertible. Whoa. I either need to slow down the drinking or consume much more, much faster. Blaine and Emmett were jogging toward the side yard, their arms and legs pumping in tandem as they made the barely-controlled race to see who was the dirtier old man.

"You okay, hoss?" Jasper grinned. Oh, don't give me your sympathetic bullshit, you traitor. I knew Jasper was just as invested in my daughters' near-nakedness as the rest of the nasty bastards in this town.

I scowled at him and shook my empty bottle in his direction. Chuckling, he turned and led the way through the front door.

"Darling!" Out of nowhere, Alice came bounding toward us and leaped up into my arms.

"Petite," I replied, snarking an eyebrow in Jasper's general direction. He was never amused when Alice switched loyalties- mostly because it was his wife's passive-aggressive way to inform him that he done fucked up.

"Oh La Bella, your other lover is here," he called out, keeping eye contact with me the entire time. Oh, really? He wants to play that way? Gimme some more Jack, bitch. I'm going all in.

Alice crawled from my chest to my back. One thing I will say- I will always regret never tapping her ass back in high school. I might love the shit out of my wife, but that doesn't mean I won't stop appreciating the finer things in life. Alice's small body easily maneuvered around my frame, and Jasper responded by cracking his knuckles and flexing his neck from side to side.

"Oh, dear. Are you finally leaving me for my BFF, dear?" Both my and Jasper's head swiveled toward the staircase as the sound of Bella's clear voice rang out over the foyer. And fuck.

She most definitely went bikini shopping.

It's a sign of love everfuckinglasting that after all this time, the woman still makes my heart beat a little bit faster. She was wearing a simple white bikini. Her skin hadn't acquired that vacation-in-the-Virgin-Islands glow yet, and she never did lose that small handful of baby belly. In all the years we'd been together, she had never looked more delicious. I started to think of seriously dirty things while she bounced nimbly down the stairs, her freshly washed hair still wet and clinging to the sides of her neck.

"Lovely, as ever," Jasper said, taking her hand and pissing my shit off as he kissed the back of it.

"Oh boy. Are we playing 'whose dick is bigger' today?" Bella grinned as she willingly stepped into Jasper's arms. He swung her up and tossed her over his shoulder, where she lifted her head and waved at me and Alice.

"Hey, babe."

"Hmmph."

"Oh, Edward. Don't be mad. I just really think the girls should get out of the house."

"And the only way to accomplish this is by parading them in front of our friends and neighbors? Blaine is here, Bella. Blaine. Just do me a favor and don't bend over near him. I don't want to be explaining myself to your father for once again assaulting a McCarty."

"The Chief told you last time that he was giving you a medal."

I didn't answer. She was grinning too much, and I saw the swagger escalate in Jasper's gait, meaning he was seriously amused.

"All of you can just… fuck off," I said lamely. We had reached the kitchen and therefore some of my booze.

There were about ten high school boys leaning on the fucking island. Disgusting.

"What the fuck is Prescott Newton doing in my house? I thought I made it quite clear to Michael Newton the Third that summer Bella and I got engaged that if he or any of his blood set so much as a surly glare directed at my property that I would end him. Why is his spawn here?" I demanded. I sailed over to the counter and there she was… beautiful and green and glowing. My Glenfiddith. I grabbed a low ball out of the cupboard and poured, taking a swig right from the bottle and washing it down with a swig from the glass.

"Edward, we talked about this." Jasper backed up so that Bella could put her hand on my arm in comfort. I shook it off.

"No. I do not want, nor will I ever accept, my daughter dating a Newton. "

Bella sighed in frustration, shaking her wet hair out. "Babe-"

"Nope." I took my glass and my bottle and decided to face the world.

I was going toward the pool. Toward the bikinis, and toward my bastard friends and neighbors. The Oglers. The Low-Lives.

As I opened the French doors leading to the lower porch, I used my forearm to shade my face. The colors were blinding.

It was like a beach blanket bonanza movie exploded in my backyard, only the bikinis were sluttier. And on my daughters. And my fucking wife.

"There he is. Man of the hour." I heard Blaine's asshole bass booming across the backyard. There he was, showing off his "golf swing" to a group of younger guys. You'd think he'd sport some sort of shame after the passage of the years and the wives, but nah. Still a douche. Still the hero to many a young man, as evidenced by the boys surrounding him as he pretended to instruct on golf… when in fact, he was probably making either lewd jokes, lewd suggestions, or a combination of all three.

Resisting the urge to run him over with one of my golf carts, I instead approached the group, putting my scotch-holding arm around Newton the Kid and my free arm around some other equally pretentious LaCoste polo-wearing kid. "Hey, Old Man McCarty. You still owe me."

I had interrupted his swagger, but as always he recovered, giving me the shiny white McCarty grin that made panties drop all over the state of Washington.

"This Old Man can still fuck you up, Sullen Cullen. Owe you for what? You owe all of us for bogarting the hottest MILF in Forks," he returned, guzzling his Sidecar and waggling two fingers at the maid. She giggled and tottered off, wiggling her ass just for Blaine. His latest thing was "hittin' it" with all of the civil servants in town; our maid was to be his piece de resistance, the final holdout; unbeknownst to Blaine, Bella and I were paying her double to tease him without fucking him.

"I don't bogart Bella, Blaine. I fuck her raw, and I fuck her often. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. You owe me for fucking up my nine iron, old bitch."

"Well, your cheap-ass Tiger-sponsored Target piece of shit got a rust stain on my favorite white linen trousers, moody bitch."

"Not my fault your intensity's for shit, Old Man. I'll accept payment in the form of a Target gift card for my lady."

"Oh, I'll give your lady a gift."

"She doesn't like saggy old packages, Blaine."

"At least I know my balls have dropped, Edward-san. You sure them twins are yours? They're much too hot and-" I stopped listening. The retorts were automatic at this point; Blaine and I often had exchanges like this, but I wasn't in the mood. It was mildly amusing to watch the younger generation take us in, memorizing our one-liners and zingers like it was a Tarantino script. But I had better shit to do.

Like pick on Little Newton.

"So. Young Prescott. I hear you're trying to fuck my daughter." Bella says I'm too blunt sometimes. I always blame Blaine's influence. Blame Blaine. Ha. I sipped the rest of my scotch and reached my arm out behind me, knowing the help would have another ready. He/She didn't disappoint.

"S-s-sir?" he stammered. I could feel his shoulders trembling beneath my arm, and I enjoyed making him squirm. I caught Blaine's eye and decided to let him play, too, so with a near-imperceptible nod of my head, I gave Old McCarty the go-ahead.

"Yeah, Newton. Hasn't your father told you to stay away from the Cullen Girls? Don't you know about the Hotchkiss Curse?"

"Curse?" The poor kid looked confused, and the other preppy clones leaned in to hear yet another Tall Tale from Camp Counselor McCarty.

"Dude. You don't know the curse? Why do you think the Good Doc Cullen is on his umpteenth wife? And on his umpteenth wife. Hey-ohh!" He held his hand up, and the kid nearest him winced as he prepared for the high five that smacked so hard that I might have Carlisle check the kid's spine out later.

"You think that's bad? Edward here went the other way. He can only be with one woman for life. Life, gentlemen. It's a sick, sick thing, this curse. You might think it's bullshit, but lemme tell you a little story about Bella's Grandpappy Hotchkiss. See, when he married the beautiful Miss Maisie Fisk, little did he know-" and off he went. I chuckled as the boys all leaned in and Blaine took a knee. I took the opportunity to spill my drink on Newton's lap when Blaine slapped him on the shoulder for emphasis, then away I went, searching for… I didn't know, exactly. Another drink.

And another was put into my hand right away. They're wrong when they say you can't find good help these days. You really, really can; the lethal combination of my money and my wife's ability to surround herself with fiercely fucking loyal people saw to that.

I was just beginning to finally fucking relax when all of a sudden, my asshole clenched as I straightened, tossing back my glass and remembering why the hell the whole town was in my backyard.

My three girls were strutting out of the house, clad in their fucking non-existent fucking bikinis. Jesus fucking Christ.

My first urge was to run over and cover them up, which Bella must have seen coming because following the girls was my wife. Wearing yet another brand spankin' new, very simple, very teeny bikini.

I didn't know whether to be pissed or pleased. She certainly knew how to work her husband, because while I was quite aware of the buzzing going around the yard, I kept my eye trained on Bella.

In a bikini.

It's a great feeling, that smug satisfaction one gets. Knowing that every man in a fifty-mile radius wants to fuck your wife. It's even more amazing being a hundred percent certain that she only wants to fuck you.

I guess I'm just pretty fucking lucky.

"So. Are you really not going to let your daughters go to Cancun?" Bella came sashaying up to me, holding her arms up and locking her fingers behind my neck. I kissed her forehead and slid my hand down her back, fingering the ties and checking that she had double-knotted them. I wouldn't put it past Emmett or Blaine or even Rosalie to show the reigning non-salined tits of Forks to the all the young'uns.

Bella began curling the ends of my hair with the tips of her fingers, lightly brushing her cool skin on my overly heated neck. I could feel her nipples pressing into my chest, and I was beginning to consider the merits of a quickie in the pool house when I got distracted by the sounds of splashing and giggling.

Sadie and Lucy's squeals told me that they were being pushed into the pool. I saw Eleanor sailing gracefully through the air, her dignified splash as different from her sister's obnoxious waves as was her hair. She had inherited my arrogance and my untidy bronze; the twins were the identical spitting images of both Bella and Renee. Just my luck. Two of them gorgeous and flirty, the other gorgeous and a dick.

Really, I couldn't be any prouder.

"Come on, Edward," Bella said, clasping her hand in mine and leading me to the pool.

Someone had made red and blue Jell-o shooters and was passing them around; I ignored the tray and instead caught the eye of some high schooler checking out my daughter's asses. I gave him the universal finger across the throat "I'm going to kill you for eye-fucking my daughter" sign and he rolled his eyes at me. I was about to dive in and cut the fucker when Bella held her arm out.

"Now, now. We wouldn't wanna ruin a perfectly good fucking party, would we?" She squeezed both a red and a blue into her mouth, flicking her tongue along the folds of ruined paper cup to get every last drop of Jell-o.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?" She looked all innocent, as if she didn't know how easy I was to control after all these years.

"Stop seducing me. You already know I'm easy."

"What, this?" She began to get obscene with another Jell-o shot, and I would have let her if everyone weren't already staring. This jealousy shit was getting old, even to me. I knew I could trust her. I just… oh, fuck it.

"Gimme one of those things," I said, looking for the tray.

Alice padded over, her marvelous tits bouncing over in a bright pink bikini top thing. Jasper moseyed over, shirtless and in a pair of jeans I think he stole from me back in high school. He was also sporting a ridiculous belt buckle that he would proudly announce he won while playing gin rummy with an old cowpoke who taught him to rope steer.

"Wooderson," I said, tipping an imaginary hat in his direction. He grinned and put his arms around both Alice and Bella, fitting one hand on her hip and the other on Al's newly firm tit.

"Jealous bitch," he replied. "They do keep getting younger. The girls are out to play today, I see." As a unit, the four of us turned to the pool, watching the teenage set splash and carry on. Rosalie made her way over, a thin-stemmed champagne glass in each hand.

"I'm bored," she proclaimed, giving Bella the once-over behind her mirrored sunglasses and turning her shoulder slightly.

"Then fuck your husband. You know, change up your routine." Bella didn't even bat an eyelash, and I saw Jasper subtly shift his weight. It wouldn't be the first time he prevented the two of them from scratching each other's faces off over the years, nor would it be the last. I suddenly wished Emmett was there; I'd put good money down on my woman pushing Rose into the pool.

"Five hundred on Rose." He had appeared out of nowhere, resting his elbow on my shoulder and ruffling Alice's hair. She smacked his hand away and made to elbow him in the junk, but he scooted his ass out and laughed. "Either way, it's win-win. That Bella of yours, man. White bikini? Please and thanks. Let's see them raisins she be smugglin', nukka."

"You're an ass. You're also on. Get ready to pony up, bitch. No way Rose wins this one. I have it on good authority that the pharmacy mixed up her happy pills again."

"Shut the hell up, you fuck. I wouldn't want Bella's 14.99 two-piece to disintegrate in the water."

"Yeah, boys. Leave Rose alone. Just because I still have the breasts I had back in high school and she needs yearly tit tune-ups, doesn't mean you can pick on her."

Rosalie opened her mouth to speak when a wave of water hit her, soaking her pants.

"You look like a pissed-off cat about to strike," Jasper laughed, and Emmett picked his wife up in his arms.

"Yeah, thanks for getting my pussy all wet, ya jerkoffs!" he hollered, his smile making us laugh and Rose even more pissed. She started struggling, so Jasper reached into Emmett's back pocket for his wallet and I grabbed his cell phone.

"Thanks, boys. Daddy needs a new pair of shoes anyway," he said, then he jumped into the pool, Rosalie and all.

"Aaaaand that right there is why we keep that bitch around," I said, suddenly relaxed and glad for these assholes I kept company with.

"So I take it Spring Break is on?" Bella whispered up into my ear. I ducked my head and just fucking gave in.

Like I'd ever be able to refuse her anything.

She must have signaled to the girls because I heard nothing, but in an instant I was assaulted in a three-sided and wet hug.

Their exuberant thanks were all I needed, really. They were promising me good grades and no more wrecked cars, but hell. I looked over at Bella and smirked; she responded by mimicking a blow job and indicating that we should go inside.

"You're welcome, girls. Go do me proud and push Uncle Jasper into the pool, will ya?"

I jogged over to my wife, leaving the sounds of Jasper's feigned protests and other hollering behind us.

"Shall we?" Bella put an arm around my waist.

"We shall."