Finding Their Balance

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Finding Their Balance Page 6

by M. Q. Barber

“He is. An exquisite muse.” Intercepting her as she reached for Jay without conscious control, Henry rubbed his thumb in her palm. “One more toy tonight, but you’ll have to share.”

  A toy for her. Small suddenly sounded delightful.

  Jay uttered a light fuck-me-now whimper. “I love sharing.”

  Easing the steel free left Jay exposing a wider ring of deep pink, open and flexing. The final toy curved in a shallow arc with five glass spheres of increasing diameter above a looping handle. Henry shoved the pillows aside.

  Cock swinging like a compass seeking north, Jay accepted each globe with a low sigh and stretch.

  Henry pressed a condom into her palm. An extra two fingers alongside the toy would be more than a stretch. Cupping between her legs, he tugged her folds. “Open.”

  Fuck yes. The condom slipped. She clamped the packet at the last second. With shaking hands, she tore the foil.

  “Turn over.”

  Her?

  No—Jay flopped on his back, arms and legs spread, cock proud and straining over his stomach. The toy’s looping handle grazed his balls.

  “Wrap him up, sweet girl.” Kissing her throat, shrouding her in his hot breath, Henry thumbed her clit. “He comes with his own toy attached. One you have a fondness for, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Not mistaken.” She planted her hand alongside Jay. Wrapping his cock had one reason—putting him inside her. “I’d call fond an understatement.”

  Jay thumped his stomach. No hands. She’d primed him for maximum pleasure. Adorable wrinkles gone, he’d turned plum dark and ripe.

  “You’ve both accomplished a great deal.” Henry parted her with slow sweeps. “To help you retain your newfound knowledge, we’d best let the material”—he drove his finger into her—“sink in.”

  Aching need registered in a flash of heat. As she’d focused on Jay, on learning and comparing, hoping she’d unlock the secrets of fantastic anal sex, her body had grown restless. Rivers of lube had nothing on her readiness.

  Unrelenting, Henry pumped and rubbed, slicking her clit.

  She hung her head, hair dangling and flowing over Jay. He rippled his abs beneath her. Beyond Jay’s covered cock and lean thighs, Henry fucked her on his fingers.

  Fucking beautiful hands he had, swift and sure, attached to a brilliant, intuitive man who loved her. Tension compressed her into a ball, the collapsing star driving toward one energetic burst.

  Henry swept free and left her hugging the edge.

  “Please.” Grappling with hunger for Jay, she developed a rattling voice. “Please, Henry.”

  “Up on your knees. Straddle Jay. Face me.”

  The room spun as she scrambled. Jay’s earthy-eyed lust and worship burned like an afterimage in tandem with Henry’s stern, heavy stare.

  Squeezing Jay’s base, Henry tilted him upright. “Claim him, Alice.”

  She sank, shaking and sliding, taking ownership of Jay as she swallowed his hard flesh.

  Whimpering, he dug into the mattress. No wonder, if he’d gotten as close as she had. Strung tight with need, they waited on Henry’s permission.

  “Your patience and enthusiasm have been a delight, my boy. I’m so pleased with you.” Flattening one hand to her belly, Henry hovered at her clit. “You needn’t hold back. Touch our girl all you like.”

  In a jackrabbit leap, Jay launched them together. Fondling his way up her ribs, he cupped her breasts.

  Henry dropped pressure on her clit, his thumb an insistent demand. “Ride.”

  She rode hard and Jay matched her, his balls swaying across the glass handle. He defined perpetual motion, mapping her skin with his fidgety impulses. Cracks let starlight through where he touched her, where Henry touched her.

  “Need—” She gulped for air. No oxygen, not here in deep space. “Gonna—” Just elemental forces goading her to—

  “Come.”

  Her star exploded. One low demand shattered her and radiated shock waves.

  Henry grabbed her chin and tilted her head. “Watch.” He pulled the handle between Jay’s legs.

  Groaning, Jay bucked like a goddamn bronco as each bead emerged.

  She clung to him with bent legs, struggling for purchase, slapping her hands on his sides behind her.

  Jay thrust wild. Gluing his hands to her hips, he hauled her down to meet him.

  A command performance. The hard, fast fucking she sometimes begged Henry for. God, what a reward. The scattered debris field of her exploding star reassembled and shook loose again with Jay’s final thrusts. She sagged, panting and spent.

  Henry pushed her backward, and Jay caught her. Their labored breathing filled the room. Praising them with reassuring caresses, Henry existed everywhere at once, spreading the excited electrons of dominance. He rolled them on their sides, straightened her cramping legs, and cradled her as Jay pulled out. He stripped and discarded the condom. He peeled them apart, finally, as breathing came easier and her heart rate slowed. Sweat and silicone lube made them all damp and slick.

  “On your back.” Planting kisses, Henry drew a line down Jay’s throat. “Knees up.”

  As Jay followed directions, Henry rocked back on his heels. He stroked his cock in a loose-fingered grip. He’d hardened watching them. As solid as the toys, but longer. Thicker. The spreading lube brightened his erection.

  Jay hip-bumped her, eagerness writ in his broad smile despite his sleeping cock.

  Nodding toward the toy bench, Henry positioned himself at Jay’s entrance. “All of that beauty is in service to this beauty. Relaxation, stretching, and comfort to permit this pleasure.”

  He slid into Jay, slow but unceasing. Inevitable for Jay to sheathe him. Inevitable the green sea, dark and intense, deepening his stare. Inevitable the whimpering submission in return, Jay beautiful with his slack jaw and bared neck.

  Toys enhanced playtime, but neither metal nor glass nor leather matched their boundless love. For that, they needed only each other. Sated and content, she snuggled beside Jay.

  Henry took Jay with unhurried, serene strokes. “You remember this part, don’t you, my loves?”

  Valentine’s.

  Curling his arm around her, Jay kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you stayed. Glad you’re still staying.”

  “Me too.” Hypnotic, the slide of Henry into Jay and the tender, unguarded gaze he pinned on them both. The doubts of four months ago rang like echoes of another life. “I was so frightened of my own happiness. Now I can’t imagine being unhappy here.”

  She traced Jay along the sexy fucking vee cutting a line through his abdomen. She’d kept her distance that night. Believed these intimacies off-limits. Look but don’t touch.

  But fuck, the two of them in motion. Kneeling with his knees spread wide, Henry supported Jay in between, lifting his ass off the bed. He hugged Jay’s upthrust legs and stroked his thighs. He pumped with life, love, and the promise of forever.

  Even Jay’s cock, pulsing with definite interest but sluggish response, understood that truth. He’d come hard with her, but three times on a play night was his norm. Maybe he’d like help. On Valentine’s, she’d shoved the idle fantasy aside.

  Henry laid his hand on hers, the two of them covering Jay’s hip. “You sound as though you want something.”

  Breathy moans flowed beneath his deep calm. Her breathy moans. She snapped her mouth shut. Damn, now she’d denied him the pleasure of her enjoyment. Gathering courage, she licked her lips. “What I wanted in February but was too nervous to ask for.”

  “Oh?” Henry turned the full force of his expectant gaze on her.

  Ask, and it shall be given you. Whatever creed Henry lived by, that rule slotted near the top of the hierarchy.

  “I want Jay in my mouth while you’re making love to him.”

  As Jay gasped, Henry’s smooth rhythm stuttered. “Washcloth first.” He resumed thrusting at a slower pace. “A fresh palate deserves a fresh palett
e.”

  Her cotton massage carried away traces of latex and spermicide. Nothing but Jay-skin and Jay-musk for her. Extending her tongue, she descended.

  He arched his back, straining toward her. His intermittent whimpers fluttered in his abs beneath her cheek.

  Lying on his stomach, she lapped at his cock. Good God, the view.

  Jay twitched and grew, his cock filling out his soft skin. His balls swayed in time with Henry’s rhythm. Inches away, Henry sank and emerged, over and over, veins like fractal patterns squiggling under his surface. Beautiful.

  She slipped her mouth around Jay. He’d gotten too long for lapping, unless she intended to move back. Fuck no.

  Henry’s quickening thrusts pushed Jay into her. Not a blowjob—Henry making love to both of them. He lacked Jay’s muscle definition, but his abs showed now, rolling and flexing to drive him deeper. Rocking with Henry’s power, Jay became an unstable platform. Her hair tumbled into her eyes.

  Henry swept the strands back in his fist. “So lovely.” Strain deepened his baritone into growling bass. “The both of you.” He leaned over them, his thrusts rapid and abbreviated, a jolting rhythm. “Together. Exquisite. Mine.”

  His bellow vibrated in her bones. Three hard thrusts, and on the third Jay joined him. Almost nothing left to give, but he pulsed and jerked all the same, eager to deliver in the midst of Henry’s climax. She swallowed with primal satisfaction.

  Chapter 3

  When the three of them arrived at the club Saturday morning, Henry charmed Caitlyn into sending them back without an announcement. Knocking, he pushed the ornate paneled door from ajar to open. “Bedeviled by the torment of a thousand paper cuts, I see.”

  Tiny amid the dark, heavy furniture, Emma sat behind a wide desk stacked with papers.

  “What flurry of wood pulp has landed on your desk this morning?” Henry strode inside. His presence lightened the shadows collecting along the high ceiling and deep corners. “This is the glamorous work you would have had me take on?”

  Deferring with a teasing bow, Jay let Alice enter first. The oversized office cried out for a poker game at the round conference table, the sort that went all night with suit coats slung over seatbacks and women in tight-laced corsets serving whiskey, neat, from silver trays.

  “Hardly, Henry.” Emma carried on writing as she cast a swift glance at him. “Penning lines is my specialty.”

  Chuckling, Henry waved his partners into the seats before the glass-topped desk.

  The leather supported more than cushioned. Spine straight, Alice perched at the edge with her knees clamped together. The massive furniture, the broad desk, imbued Emma with the power to decide fates with a penstroke. Assessing her suitability for Henry, Emma could find her wanting.

  “Truly, I hoped for something similar to what you’re doing.” Emma signed her missive in an elegant hand. “I thought you might teach an ethics and safety class for dominants.”

  The heaped papers appeared all of a kind, possibly a form letter for the membership. The individual words stayed stubbornly indiscernible from this side of the desk.

  “And I thought we might teach submissives together—a mandatory class in their first thirty days on safe negotiation.” With swift grace, Emma folded the letter into thirds and slipped it into an envelope. “Recognizing abuse. Setting limits. Seeking help.” As she licked the flap, she raised her eyebrows at Henry. “Things worked out superbly from my perspective.”

  No kidding. They’d dragged their asses to the club on a Saturday morning for Henry’s first class for submissives. Next week, they’d take on dominants.

  “Victor always admired your cunning. He got more than he bargained for when he taught you to play.” Heavy-handed and welcome, Henry kneaded Alice’s shoulders. “I’ve been blessed to discover that joy twice over.”

  Not blessing but—“Skill.”

  “Talent,” Emma said, their words overlapping.

  As they traded a stare, her flicker of irritation disappeared in the other woman’s subtle smile.

  “Blessed is good. I’m blessed, too. And I’ll let Henry pick his own words.” Flashing his tongue at her, Jay drummed the arms of his chair. “We ready to rock this?”

  “Certainly.” Emma wrote a name across the envelope. Master something. “I’ll leave this with Caitlyn and walk up with you.”

  With the letter slotted into a numbered box behind the reception desk, they climbed the grand staircase. Emma, in her flowing white dress with its floral silhouettes in navy, led their troupe. Her low heels matched the blue, naturally. “I’ve put you on the third floor. The classroom setting seemed appropriate.”

  The green-ribboned staffer at the second-floor bag check nodded as they passed.

  “I appreciate your commitment, Henry.” Making the climb, Emma spoke without turning back. “I know you’ve other calls on your time and skills.”

  “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t find it valuable and rewarding, Em.” Henry rapped his knuckles on the banister. “My time is my own. I choose to spend it in this endeavor.”

  “Still. Your assistance is a godsend. Things have been sliding.” At the top, Emma waited with her back stiff and her face pinched. “Too many things, for too long.”

  Henry planted his feet beside her and dipped his head. “You might’ve asked for help earlier, sverchok.”

  The falling tone of Emma’s hum suggested otherwise. “Stress does strange things.” She pushed a tiny laugh through a strained smile. “You’ve seen nervous and confused novices strangling themselves in knots. Grateful for what’s given and afraid to be labeled a burden.”

  Like a woman so afraid of throwing a wrench in the gears she’d segregate herself from her lovers for months while they all silently wished for more togetherness. Alice banged her toes reaching for the next step.

  “You haven’t been a novice in a long while, Em.” Frowning, Henry touched her shoulder. “And you’ve never been a burden. Either I’ve been a poor friend, or you’ve been a skilled liar.”

  “Or I thought I might handle a few things myself.” Arms folded, Emma hugged her elbows. “And discovered a problem larger than I could manage.”

  “I did, too.” Shit, she came off the stairs and tumbled into their conversation with the subtlety of a rodeo clown. “Wanted to handle everything myself at first.” No way Emma needed a distraction or a rescue, and she sure as hell wasn’t the woman to offer one. And yet. “I got all turned around and panicked.”

  Rocking back a step, Henry pressed his hand to the middle button of his jacket. He glanced from her to Emma and back again. “I specifically told you—multiple times—to come to me, Alice.”

  “I didn’t realize then how tiny things mattered so much. How they piled up.” Did they ever. Festering wounds and unanswered questions were the worst. “I thought I’d only bother you for big stuff. But big-small is a slippery emotional slope. I couldn’t calculate the difference.”

  “You didn’t accept that those decisions belonged in my hands.” Cupping her cheek, Henry rolled his thumb across her lips. “You harbored a nascent, unformed concept of submission.”

  She did still. Her whole system came together patchwork quilt-style. Complex systems like sex and love deserved the certainty of Euclidean geometry or Newtonian mechanics, not all this quantum Heisenberg shit. What she wouldn’t give for a fucking manual.

  “I was nascenter than Alice.” Hands in his pockets, Jay teetered heel-toe. “I didn’t ask questions I should’ve or protect myself. Giving away all the decisions? Two words: thrill ride.”

  “You, my dear boy—” Henry tugged him forward by his shirt and slapped a kiss on his mouth. “You had been steered down the wrong road.”

  “I like your map better.” With his spreading grin, Jay proclaimed like an understatement. “Even if the trails are all named ‘Trust’ this and ‘Safety’ that. I memorized them so I can recite ’em in my sleep.”

  �
�I wanted you safe even if you chose another dominant.” Henry smoothed the wrinkles from Jay’s shirt.

  “That’s why this class will succeed.” Her steps brisk, Emma waved them past the first three doors. “You’re an exceptionally ethical man, and your pets come from either end of the trust spectrum. Look at their balance now.”

  Exposure rankled. Jay, sure, he’d been hard-wired with an inability to withhold trust. And, yeah, she’d gone into this unwilling to trust people with her emotions. Extending trust to Henry and Jay had been slow and scary. Adding Emma—knowledgeable, overly insightful Emma—she’d get there. When she had more data.

  Emma opened a door and flipped on the lights. Illuminating her face, they captured porcelain translucence. A thin surface of delicate perfection rested on a wistful hollow beneath. “They’ll make excellent assistants.”

  Not the same, though. Had Emma’s husband been alive, five’d getcha ten the two of them would take on prized pupils for further study. Handing the job to Henry smacked of passing the torch. So long as Emma refused to grapple with the problem, no one supplanted Victor. But once she’d gotten up the courage to ask, Henry’s initial rejection must’ve stung.

  What the hell. Some premenstrual surging hormonal solidarity shit had to be causing her uncomfortable sympathizing. Worse than cramps.

  “Well?” Emma ushered them into the space, her gaze on Henry. “Will this do?”

  The setup mimicked a high-school classroom, right down to the old-fashioned, one-armed desks. Jay swung into a front-row seat, slouched low, and raised his hand insistently.

  Unbuttoning his coat, Henry leaned his ass against the teacher’s desk. His crossed arms tightened his dress shirt. Gravity turned his pants into showpieces outlining his extended legs.

  Fucking delicious.

  “You have a question?” Henry smoldered, his gaze low and intense as coals waiting for the prod to stir him into flames. “Speak.”

  Arching his hips, Jay almost managed to pull off casual resettling. Gave himself away wetting his parted lips. “I wanna show how well I perform in this subject.” His impish undertone disappeared under Henry’s unbroken stare. “Do you allow oral presentations for extra credit, sir?”

 

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