Switchy

by Tymber Dalton

  “What else?” she asked.

  She watched Garrison and Jarred exchange a glance. “I know that at first things might feel overwhelming. We want you to tell us if you feel that way. We don’t want to just dump everything on you, say, ‘Hey, you’re in charge,’ and wait for you to do whatever. We want this to be a partnership. Janis came into our relationship knowing who she was and what she wanted. What we’d like the eventual, future goal to be is for you to feel comfortable being our Domme or our Owner or whatever label you choose for yourself. But that’s secondary to our relationship, the three of us.”

  “We can’t have any kind of D/s dynamic without a friendship and a relationship in place,” Jarred added.

  “D/s?”

  “Dominant/submissive,” Garrison said. “So please don’t go researching on the Internet or on FetLife and watch Dominatrix porn and get freaked out. This is as much about you and what you want and what makes you happy as it is us.”

  Hell, even when she and Ronnie were together, she usually took charge. She had to, because he was busy with school and studying. That had been one source of fights between them, that he felt like she was bossing him around, because he was a take-charge kind of guy and his ideas usually conflicted with hers.

  But it was a trait Mitchell and Brent had both praised her for at work. That she could get stuff done. If there was an impossible deadline to meet, they knew she’d meet it, one way or another, usually exceeding expectations along the way.

  “Like you were saying, I’m not into micromanaging. I don’t have time to do that with you guys.”

  “And we’re fine with that,” Jarred said.

  “Give me some suggestions, then.”

  Garrison spoke up. “Janis used to have us greet her when we got home. If we were home first, we met her at the door and knelt and she used to stroke our heads and talk to us for a moment. If she got home first, we went straight to her, knelt, and she did the same thing.”

  “That wasn’t demeaning?”

  “Not at all,” Jarred said. “It…” He looked like he choked up for a moment. “It was grounding. Soothing, for me. I can’t speak for Garrison. But it was like my brain had permission to downshift and let go of the day. Work was behind me, and now I was home and the center of my world was her.”

  Garrison nodded. “Yeah. That.”

  “So if you guys weren’t gay when you got together, how did you get together as a couple?”

  Jarred’s smile made her panties damp. Sexy and playful, he rested his elbow on the table, his chin in his palm. “You should handle that question, Gare.”

  Garrison smirked at him. “Gee, thanks.” He turned to her. “He was bi, so it wasn’t as big a leap for him. Janis played with us. It wasn’t overnight, it was over several weeks, but it was a little bit of operant-conditioning, a little bit of Dominance on her part, and a lot of trust on my part. Jarred and I were friends, and I liked serving her with him. With both of us, it meant that one of us could take up the slack for Janis if the other couldn’t.”

  He reached out and realigned his silverware around his plate. “She mixed things like training me to wear a butt plug with sensual play. I knew that she was working me up to pegging—”

  “Pegging?”

  “Strap-on play.” He smiled. “In preparation for eventually doing the real thing. That was a negotiated limit between us from the start. I knew she would be working me up to a point where he and I would be completely sexual with each other. I had the option of safewording, of course, but she was honest that the thought of having both of us was sexy, and she couldn’t choose between us.”

  “You weren’t jealous of each other?”

  Garrison looked over at Jarred. “A little, at first. I think it was more friendly competition than jealousy. Somewhere in the first couple of months, I realized I thought of him as more than just a friend and realized I loved him. I don’t think of myself as gay, or even bi. I’m heteroflexible with a definite slant toward bi.”

  “You’d never been with another guy before?”

  “Nope.”

  “Can I ask a personal question?”

  Both men looked at her. “Em,” Jarred said, “no question is off the table. That’s how this works.”

  “How exactly did she start that process?”

  The men both chuckled. Jarred took this one. “She had us bound and with butt plugs up us. Laying next to each other in bed, naked. She started teasing us with a hand job, and told us if we wanted blow jobs, and to come, we had to start kissing.”

  “And not just little kisses,” Garrison said. “She wanted to see us making out, full tongue, everything.” He slowly shook his head, his smile warming Em’s heart…and between her legs. “I’d never kissed a guy before, but the more I got into it, the more she got into what she was doing between our legs. Rewarding us. By the time she got me off, I was leaning over, my tongue as deep down his throat as I could get it.”

  “She did stuff like that for a couple of weeks,” Jarred said. “Taking it slow with us. Once we got past that hurdle and were comfortable with it, she started building us up to the next level.”

  Em wouldn’t deny the discussion had her wet and squirming. “Like what?”

  “Pegging us while we did oral on each other,” Jarred said, “which was mentally easier for me than him. Once she got us used to that, she had us pop our cherries with each other, so to speak. She put me in the middle. I was fucking her while Garrison got to fuck me. And then she reversed it, with him in the center.”

  “And fun was had by all?”

  “Exactly,” Garrison said. “Reward-based training. Once she’d gotten me all the way through it, I’d worked through any mental reservations I had with it and was all in. No pun intended. I realized it felt good, I trusted Jare, I trusted her, and that’s all that mattered. Again, this wasn’t overnight. It was probably a good six months before we reached that ‘free-for-all’ point.”

  “You have to go as slow as the slowest partner,” Jarred said, “Gare was our slowest partner. Once she firmly had us enjoying that aspect, she started working on our tolerance for impact play. And so on.”

  “I’m guessing that makes me the slowest partner now? Sorry, that came out wrong.”

  “But you’re absolutely right,” Garrison said. “You are. And that’s okay.”

  “So what do we do tonight?”

  “Well, first,” Garrison said, “are you okay with our terms?”

  “Yeah. That seems fair.”

  “What are your terms?”

  “I don’t know. You covered them, I guess.”

  “Do you have expectations for us?”

  “I…” She studied their gazes. “I’d like to learn. I agree starting out slow is smart. I want to at least try stuff before I decide I can’t do it.”

  “And if you can’t,” Jarred said, “that’s okay. Some things, he and I can do for each other.”

  “I’m willing to try. Just go slow with me.”

  “Absolutely,” both men said.

  They sent her to the living room while they cleaned up dinner and then joined her there.

  “So what was the sexytime without sex you talked about?”

  Jarred smiled. “I give killer massages.”

  “And my footrubs are nearly orgasmic, or so I’ve been told,” Garrison said with a smile. “Is there anything you don’t want us to do?”

  “Well, if sex-sex is off the table, I guess there’s not much else we can do.”

  The men laughed. “You are sooo wrong,” Jarred said. “We can’t do oral on you tonight, but we can do other stuff. If you’d like to move to the bedroom, Ma’am, we’ll be happy to show you.”

  She offered him her hand. “That sounds like a great idea.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Em’s heart hammered in her chest as Jarred took her hand and led her to the bedroom, Garrison following close behind.

  Please don’t let this be a mistake.

  G
arrison put on some music, soft, mellow jazz that helped relax her. Then he switched on a couple of LED candles on their dresser while Jarred turned off the lights.

  Standing here, with these two guys, Em realized just how long it’d been since she’d been intimate with anyone. And it made her more than a little sad to realize that some of her encounters with past sexual partners had actually lacked true intimacy.

  Hell, she’d had more and emotionally deeper conversations with these two men in the past week than she’d had in years.

  “Are you okay?” Jarred said.

  “Yeah.” She tried to smile and hoped she didn’t look goofy. “Just nervous.”

  Garrison stepped in close behind her and lightly trailed his fingers down her arms from shoulders to wrists. “If at any time you want us to stop, just tell us. Or say ‘red.’”

  Note to self, call my damn doctor. She’d meant to do that today, but with everything that had happened, it’d totally slipped her mind.

  “Massage, huh?”

  Jarred smiled. “And a footrub.”

  Before she could lose her nerve, she reached down and pulled the sundress up and off over her head, dropping it to the floor next to her. She’d forgone a bra but had enough forethought to pack a reasonably cute pair of panties. Which she proceeded to shove down her legs and kick to the side, where they landed on her sundress.

  A jolt of power raced through her as both men sucked in sharp breaths.

  “Like what you see?” Jeez, when did I start reciting porn dialogue?

  Jarred nodded. “Yes, Ma’am,” he whispered.

  She looked over her shoulder at Garrison, who also nodded. “Yes, Ma’am.”

  “Why am I the only one naked?”

  The men exchanged a glance and started ripping their clothes off. Since Jarred was only wearing shorts, and had gone commando, he was naked about a split second before Garrison.

  Holy…sheeit.

  They were both good-looking men. Jarred’s body had slightly leaner, harder lines than Garrison, but Garrison was no slouch. She guessed Jarred’s physique was due in no small part to eight years of Army PT, in addition to his job where he was on his feet all day long.

  Garrison was a few inches taller than Jarred, and not as broad-shouldered, built lanky and sort of like a runner.

  Both men were hung—thank you, universe—with Jarred’s stiff cock a little longer than Garrison’s, but Garrison had some girth on Jarred.

  Considering both men’s cocks were stiff and standing straight out, she had a perfect view, too.

  Pulling her eyes away from them, she turned and lay facedown on the bed. “Any time, gentlemen.”

  She closed her eyes and listened as it sounded like one of them opened a drawer. She heard the snick of a plastic bottle being opened, then Jarred said, “This is massage oil. Oh, are you allergic to anything? It’s an almond oil base.”

  “Nope,” she said. “No allergies.”

  He drizzled oil in his hands and she heard him rub them together before his thumbs began slowly tracing up either side of her spine.

  “Oh—oooohh!”

  She felt the mattress dip near her feet. “He’s really good,” Garrison said. She felt his hands take her right foot and he slowly started kneading the sole with his fingers, exploring, working, and she let out another moan.

  At this rate, she wouldn’t be able to orgasm, because she’d pass out from sheer relaxation.

  The men took their time, Jarred working on her back, arms, and legs, and Garrison going back and forth between her feet.

  “That feels sooo good,” she mumbled against the covers. It struck her that in the whole time they’d been working on her—over thirty minutes, by the time on the cable box under their TV—they hadn’t once tried to touch her…intimately.

  “It’s supposed to feel good,” Jarred said.

  “Is your leg okay?” she belatedly asked, feeling badly she hadn’t checked before. He’d had a different color bandage around it when he’d emerged from the shower earlier.

  “I’m fine. I won’t hurt it, don’t worry.”

  After a few more minutes, she realized they weren’t going to do more unless she told them to. “You can do more, if you want.”

  If they turned her down, she suspected she’d burst into tears of disappointment.

  “We were waiting on you to set the pace,” Garrison said.

  “I’ve got to be honest. I haven’t been with a guy in a couple of years, and it’s probably been over a month since I’ve masturbated. No, wait, longer than that. Holy crap, I’m pitiful.”

  Jarred stretched out next to her, propped up on his elbow. “Tell us what you want us to do, Ma’am.”

  She turned her head enough so she could look at him. “Someone said something about being able to take care of sexy time without having to actually have sex. That. Whatever you had in mind by that, that’s what I want.”

  “Okay.” He smiled. “Kind of helps if you roll over, though.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  She did. Then she felt Garrison suck her left big toe into his mouth and swirl his tongue around it and she thought her eyes would roll back in her head.

  That was an erogenous zone?

  Who fucking knew?

  A moan escaped her. Jarred smiled down at her as one hand started lightly drawing a trail from the base of her throat, down her chest, and around her left breast. Then around her right, back and forth in ever smaller infinity swirls, drawing closer to her nipples.

  Speaking of those babies, they’d tightly peaked, aching, anticipating, practically standing up and begging for one or both men to use those talented tongues there, on them.

  Garrison was licking and sucking on her other toes. She couldn’t pull her gaze away from Jarred’s brown eyes, though. In the flicker of the fake candlelight, which actually did look fairly realistic, she spotted passion and desire that melted her insides and made her clit throb even more than it had during their kiss that morning.

  Yowza.

  Garrison kissed his way up her legs, skipping over her pussy, where she’d helpfully spread her thighs to give them better access, and traced kisses up her stomach until he was on her other side.

  As one, the men lowered their mouths to her breasts and started flicking their tongues against her nipples, sucking, teasing.

  Her eyes fell closed. Probably a good thing, because they also rolled so far and hard back in her head they might have sailed right out of her dang skull. Nothing had felt this good in…well, ever.

  Two hands skimmed down her tummy, one set of fingers lighting tracing her clit, the other gently probing the entrance to her pussy.

  Oh, thank christ I shaved down there!

  One finger, then a second, slowly pumped into her slick passage. Her hands grabbed their heads, almost afraid they’d move and leave and stop what they were doing.

  The harder she held on, the more satisfied the moans she earned from each of them, so she fisted handfuls of hair and held on for dear life like a dizzy drunk on a mechanical bull.

  The fingers on her clit seemed to need a few minutes to get the lay of the land, feel her out. But once whichever owner deciphered the increasingly slippery topography down there, he got his game going and started moving his digits back and forth, up and down, quickly working her close to an orgasm.

  While she felt hard cocks brushing against her on either side, neither man had made a move to have her take things in hand. Frankly, she was afraid to let go of their hair. She needed something solid to hold on to for fear of flying off the bed and launching into orbit.

  When the first orgasm slammed into her, her back arched and she had to stifle her cry of pleasure lest she end up earning them a 911 call from the neighbors. It felt sooo fucking good, three fingers driving hard and fast into her pussy while the man working her clit had steered her right into the orgasm zone. Just when it was getting too intense, too strong, they backed off and she slipped down the slope, still there, close
, catching her breath.

  And she realized they weren’t done.

  Not by a long shot.

  It was somewhere around the fourth climax she finally lost count and nearly lost consciousness. When the men’s hands stilled, and they released her breasts and looked up at her, she finally peeled open her eyes to see what was going on.

  They wore beaming, glorious smiles. They looked like they’d just won the damn Super Bowl.

  “Wow,” she whispered.

  Garrison arched an eyebrow at her. “Good?”

  She nodded. Only then she realized she still had tight grips on their heads. She let go, stroking their hair, playing with it. Garrison’s had a slightly coarser feel, his short, wavy hair almost curly. Probably would be curly if he let it get longer. Jarred’s was short and straight, but super soft.

  “Come here,” she said, coaxing them a little farther up. She wanted them snuggled there against her, their heads tucked against her shoulders. She kissed Garrison, then Jarred, while stroking their heads. “That…was…fantastic. But what about you?”

  “What about us?” they parroted.

  She giggled. “Yeeeaah. I feel those things poking against me. I want to take care of you guys.”

  “That’s your call,” Garrison said.

  “Up on the bed,” she said. “Lay next to each other.”

  They did. She sat up on her knees between them with their legs on either side of her. Then she reached down and took their cocks in hand, slowly stroking them, pumping their shafts, slicking their juices over them.

  Both men moaned, sounding nearly identical.

  Damn, that’s cute!

  “I want you two to make out while I do this. I want to watch you kissing.”

  The men did, quickly getting into it, losing themselves in what they were feeling. It was hot. Really damn hot. So hot that she almost forgot what she was doing.

  * * * *

  One of Garrison’s worries had been that she might say she was okay with them being together, but then the sight of them actually being together would change her mind.

  But as she stroked their cocks, he found himself caught up in the sensation of a new hand, a still relatively unfamiliar hand—a woman’s hand—stroking his cock. Not his own hand, not Jarred’s hand, not a hand that knew exactly where to press and where to glide. A hand exploring and teasing, learning.