Finding Their Balance

by M. Q. Barber

  “He has beautiful skin.” The intimate lighting and low chatter in the salon crafted a newness, as if she hadn’t run her hands over Jay a thousand times. Focusing her awareness on him fine-tuned the crowd to a low-level buzz vibrating in her blood. Henry had warned her about the fishbowl effect, but the reserved sign seemed to dissuade interruptions as much as encourage observers.

  “Sun-kissed.” Stroking Jay from shoulders to ass, Henry got a cat-stretch and wiggle for his subtle pride. “My boy shifts with the season, constant in his affections and ever-changing in his palette.”

  “It’d be a shame not to pet him.” She extended her arm, palm up. “May I?”

  Henry bent and kissed Jay’s forehead. “Go and let Mistress Alice examine your charms, my boy.”

  Ribs swaying, cock swinging, Jay crossed the three feet separating them on his knees and resettled himself in his waiting pose directly in front of her. Hot breath washed over her calves as he bowed his head. “Command me if it pleases you, Mistress.”

  Jay’s trust. Henry’s trust. They balanced on a yoke across her shoulders, and yet the weight never bogged her down but lifted her up.

  “Up on your knees, then.” She cupped his chin, pulling him with her lightest touch, and he rose with trembling joy. “Let me look at the frame of this fascinating machine.”

  Desire pounded her fingertips with the constancy of the tide, tingling need flowing in and demanding she trace Jay like an unfamiliar blueprint. She couldn’t grant him permission to come, not in the salon, though the need already made itself plain in his straining cock. God, so much trust in him as he watched her every move. She ached to topple him back and drop her pantyless self on top.

  Not here.

  Henry must contend with the same urges. But the war for control almost never showed on his face.

  Mapping the ridges and hollows of Jay’s throat set his cock jumping. His balls tightened.

  “Jay.” Her responsibility to see his cues and deescalate. “I have a task for you.” As soon as she thought of one. God, don’t let her look as desperate as she felt. Her heart thudded double time.

  Coasters. Empty.

  “I want you to fetch me a drink. Something sweet from the kitchen.” Releasing Jay, she leaned sideways. “Anything for you, Master Henry?”

  “Yes, thank you, that’s a lovely thought.” The intensity in his green gaze gentled, and he inclined his head. Confident in her abilities, he hadn’t even unfolded his hands. “Water with lemon, my boy. A tall, slender glass. A fresh wedge, cut from a new lemon if one is available.”

  “Yes, Master Henry.” As Jay bowed his head, his cheek brushed her arm. Almost her breast. “Thank you, Mistress Alice.”

  “Go on. I’d like a peek at your sexy behind.” She gestured toward the kitchen, the entrance obscured by the steadily growing crowd. “Bring me back something nice—aside from yourself, stud.”

  With a broad grin and a grace balanced on the fine edge of humble and cocky, Jay sauntered off.

  As he disappeared, she let out the last of her breath. “Jesus. How do you stop yourself?”

  Henry perched on the front of his seat and steepled his hands below his lips. “From grabbing your waist and flipping you around on that chair? From tossing your dress over your ass, clamping my hands atop yours against that high cherry back, and taking what’s mine?”

  Her throat went dry. She’d need that drink now. “Uh-huh.”

  Eyes flashing, he returned to a neutral posture. “Because I enjoy the anticipation—and the denial. And I believe in the value of the rules in place here.”

  “He needed a breather.” She had, too. The tight knots dotting the room bulged with players in the same game, a free-flowing mesh of glances and caresses and departures. They’d better make theirs before she missed a cue and caused Jay embarrassment. “The praise and attention had him on the edge.”

  “Mm-hmm. We’ll sip our drinks enough to make his service worthwhile. You do seem parched, dearest.” With his smirk, Henry offered a rare glimpse into his amusement. “And then we’ll take him upstairs, where we might find a relief valve for his excitement.”

  Without questioning her assessment, he accepted her read of Jay’s needs. Bringing their game outside the second bedroom, into a public-ish space like the club, challenged her skills—but she’d never shied from a challenge.

  “You’re doing well, Alice.” Henry soothed in his rumbling baritone. “You found a method to give him space to calm himself, and you presented it as a command he desired, to allow him to fulfill his need to serve. I would have done the same. Have done, in fact.” With no more than a green-eyed stare, he pinned her to the seat. “I’m finding it exceptionally difficult to refrain from rewarding your brilliance with an orgasm or three.”

  She clenched her thighs against the rush. Her readiness would seal her lips until one of her men parted them and unleashed an unstoppable flood.

  Tilting his head, Henry lifted one eyebrow.

  She followed his cue to a flash of bare flesh heading their way. Back in character. Jay’s mistress. Not a fake role, but one with specific priorities.

  “Of course—” Henry raised his voice, not truly overloud, but pitched for ears a dozen steps away and buried beneath black hair. “I would never send my boy off for an unsupervised play date.”

  “No, I understand.” She matched his aloof tone, as if Jay’s approach passed unnoticed. The salon’s growing flock of players, too, she ignored, even as some strayed closer. Faces familiar from classes. Watching Henry work a negotiation, they’d paused their own extracurriculars. “He’s a wonderful find. I’d be protective, too, if he were mine.”

  “If. Two tiny letters with a wealth of meaning. For the right woman, Alice—may I call you Alice?” He caressed her name, a long, licking ‘L’ and a melting “ice.” She must’ve nodded, because he carried on with a flicker of a smile. “I’d consider a shared custody arrangement. Assuming the initial games are mutually satisfying.”

  A glass secure in each hand, Jay stepped between them and knelt.

  “Shuttling your poor pet back and forth would promote instability. All that friction wearing him down.” She plucked her glass free and drank deep. Sweet, wet, and cooling. “Excellent choice, Jay, thank you.”

  “I’m happy to serve you, Mistress.” Relaxed and smiling, he preened under their attention. Despite his safely soft cock, his eyes shone. The club gave him something impossible at home—a quasi-public audience for his submission. Everywhere else, he buttoned up his need for Henry’s dominance. “However you and my master see fit.”

  In a sensual slide, Henry trailed his hand down Jay’s arm and claimed his drink. “I suspect we’ll manage to find a frictionless fit, with suitable incentives.” Tipping the glass and sipping became performance art closely watched by their adoring server. “The proper care of one’s submissive is a tremendous responsibility. Thankfully, the joys in return are tenfold.”

  Henry took so much care balancing Jay’s needs. His more blatant domination at home helped Jay power through the hours when he wouldn’t let himself accept what he needed. The things he’d be ashamed to ask for.

  “I can see you must take excellent care of him.” The protected space here gave both of her men something they needed—the ability to show their true relationship without being judged. Without being shoved into boxes of masculinity that could never contain all they were to each other and to her.

  “It’s lovely when one has the leisure to study a potential partner, to learn their behaviors and quirks before extending an invitation.” As he ruffled Jay’s hair, his gaze never left her. “Yet still they surprise and delight us.”

  He’d catalogued her from the day they met. Assessing the purpose of each piece in her design, he’d determined the best shape for their three-sided relationship. The one he’d deem aesthetically pleasing, she’d call functionally efficient, and Jay’d name the smoothest ride.

 
“I took the liberty of reserving a room upstairs.” Henry lifted the reserved tag from the table, creased the heavy paper at the fold, and tucked it in his breast pocket.

  A courtesy, to let others claim the space once they’d left, but a memento, too. The sole question was whether the card would end up in her contract folder or Jay’s—or if Henry had created a joint one for them as well.

  Rising to his feet, Henry buttoned his suit coat. Command clung to him tighter than tailored fabric as he extended his arm. “Shall we adjourn to ascertain the exactness of our fit?”

  She slipped her arm around his. “I’m honored, Master Henry.” Pouring her impish joy into the title, she laid her head against his shoulder. “I have an idea or two for sampling your boy’s charms.”

  “I thought you might.”

  * * * *

  At a red-carded door, a nook tucked in a quiet corner of the third floor, Henry stopped. Blinds covered the viewing window. Releasing her arm, he turned to Jay, who’d trailed them with silent steps, up the stairs and through the halls, past countless others enjoying their service. The threshold of new adventure waited.

  Henry clasped Jay’s shoulders. “This room belongs to Mistress Alice tonight. Tell her your safeword, please.”

  “Tilt-A-Whirl. I promise to use it”—he shot her a sly eyebrow waggle over Henry’s shoulder—“if Mistress Alice is too much for me.”

  She circled him and grabbed a handful of ass cheek, prompting an indrawn breath and a bobbing thrust. “I plan to be just exactly enough for you, stud.”

  “Will you obey Mistress Alice tonight, my boy?” Sweeping down Jay’s arms, Henry coached him loose and easy, prepping his prizefighter for the improvisational thrill of the ring. Santa Will had claimed to be a boxer as a kid. Surely Henry had been his stalwart ringside support. “Will you treat her commands as if they were my own?”

  “I will, Master Henry.” As Jay craned around and peered down at her, he poured love and respect into his gaze. “Thank you for accepting my service, Mistress Alice.”

  “I couldn’t ask for better.” She kissed his cheek. Once the door opened, they’d be different people. The private people they always were and yet weren’t. More fully the people they were all the time. Just—freer.

  Henry’s assessing stare slid into a crinkle-eyed smile, a match for her pounding heart.

  She nodded to him. “Let’s play.”

  Knob in hand, Henry gave the door a push. “Ladies first.”

  Once she flicked the light switch, her quick scan showed about what she’d expected—their classroom on a small scale, two rows of three desks. Henry’s bag sat beside the teacher’s desk. He must’ve sent a runner after Jay had changed.

  “Everything appears in order, I trust?” Henry held Jay in the hall.

  Her pet shuffled his feet. Shaping the scene with Henry for his approval, she’d been equally bouncy and impatient. Thinking on her feet. Wanting to start right away.

  “You and Jay both,” he’d murmured as he kissed her nose. “So eager to be teacher’s pets.”

  “All good,” she called. Deep breath. Spin. Smile. “Thank you so much for coming.” She tugged Jay inside, his hand warm and comforting as he absorbed her jitters. “I’m kinda nervous about passing my practical. Having you as my practice student will crush those worries.”

  Henry entered last, shutting the door behind him.

  “I’ll need you to follow my directions through a few assignments while my adviser”—she gestured to Henry—“evaluates my performance.” Enough detail to lay out a scenario for Jay, but vagueness, too, to leave room for the excitement of the unknown. “You’ll help me look good in front of my teacher, won’t you, Jay?”

  “Yes, Mistress.” He took the front-row seat she directed, folding his long limbs beneath the attached desk. Either aiming to impress her with his posture or bowing to Henry-ingrained habits, he sat straight and clasped his hands in front of him. “I have lots of experience with homework.” He flashed his sweetest smirk. “If your in-class assignments are anything like those, you should get an ‘A’ out of me.”

  “Mm-hmm. We’ll discover what I can get out of you.” Tipping her head, she peeked under the desk and passed him by. Space would calm her racing heart. She paced a count of ten behind him, clicking her heels on the hardwood.

  Henry leaned along the side wall, far enough to fade from Jay’s awareness. This was her show. He’d unbuttoned his coat and pocketed his hands, a casual bystander, enjoying a performance he hadn’t scripted. Unless she invited him in, he’d hang back and watch her work.

  “Attendance first.” She clicked to a stop at the back of the aisle to Jay’s left. “Stand when I call your name, please.”

  A coiled spring of readiness, he vibrated in his seat as she rattled off three fakes.

  “Jay.”

  He shot up. “Present, Mistress.”

  “You are, aren’t you?” Crooning, she sauntered up and crossed rows. “Not like those tardy students who can’t be bothered. You actually”—standing before him, she dragged a finger from his navel to his neck—“show up.”

  He breathed into her touch, pressing forward without demand.

  “My star pupil.” She tapped the desk. “Sit, please. Geography lesson first.” An easy subject for Jay. A gamble for her, the chance for a pop quiz in case he stumbled and she needed to correct without punishing. “Who can name a state that borders Massachusetts?”

  Jay thrust his hand in the air. He didn’t wave for attention, but his arm trembled nonetheless. His taut body shouted a silent pick me.

  “We’ll hear from the front row on this question. Jay?”

  “New Hampshire, Mistress.” The pride filling out his tenor might have been for his home state or his pleasure in giving a correct answer. Maybe just for being her first choice.

  “Excellent.” Unable to stay away from him, from the strength in his shoulders and the misaligned strands of dark hair brushing his neck, she crept closer. “Stand when you give your next answer, please.” She finger-combed his wayward hair and drifted down his sloping back until she hit curving wood. The seat confounded her need for him, blocked her ability to run her hands and her eyes to the last margin of her territory. Smart in theory, lousy in practice. “Beside your desk will be fine.”

  Murmuring assent, he chased her touch. The desk squeaked in a rubber-footed backslide with his shifting weight.

  She drummed the honey maple under her fingernails. “Can you also name a state many people think borders Massachusetts but doesn’t?”

  With a jackrabbit leap, Jay launched to his feet. The desk rocked. “Maine, Mistress.”

  “Much better.” The view, too. Ever-playful Jay flexed his gorgeous tight ass for her. “And still with the correct answer.”

  His squirming excitement deserved to be shared. Despite her in-charge declaration and the thrill of playing the lead role, Henry’s silence registered as an absence. “He’s a quick learner, isn’t he, sir?”

  Coat discarded, he watched them in his shirtsleeves, his pants rippling across a familiar thick outline. “I’ve always found him so. Particularly when he’s in competent hands.”

  Jay, sighing, echoed her bliss.

  “Such powerful legs he has.” She crouched, near enough the heat of his arousal warmed her face, and squeezed her thighs against the urge to open for him. “Fluid movements.” Tickling the backs of his knees, she set him prancing in a minuscule dance. “Are you a runner, Jay?”

  “No, Mistress, but I’ll run if you want me to.” He had the energy. Running a 5K wouldn’t soften the steel in his cock when he’d set his mind on a reward.

  “Running’s so hard on the knees.” She palmed the insides of his, working upward along trembling muscles and taut tendons. Sturdy, studly Jay could go the distance. “A swimmer, then?”

  “No, Mistress.” He spread his feet by millimeters, a graceful slide pushing his stance wider and presentin
g his cock as if she hadn’t noticed the beautifully plump head inches from her lips. “I ride my bike a lot.”

  The backs of his thighs earned a final stroke as she stood.

  He whimpered, high-pitched and needy, but held his position.

  “Speed and endurance.” With tender affection for her well-behaved puppy, she scratched his stomach. He’d proved he had the stamina to wait and the faith to let her decide when and how he would be touched. When and how he’d receive his release. “What a perfect package you are.”

  His cock bounced. Did he think he could will himself into her palm? His urgent desire put him right on target for her plans.

  “Let’s see if you’re as excellent at spelling as you are at geography.” Stepping aside, she waved him forward. “At the board, please.”

  He took his at-ease pose, legs spread and hands tucked behind his back, wrists clasped above his ass.

  Chalk pinched between her thumb and middle finger, she pressed the short stick into his right hand. “Writing implements up.”

  In unquestioning obedience, he gripped the chalk and raised his arm to the board. “Ready, Mistress.”

  “Good boy.” Her arm fit snug around his hip as she closed her hand around his shaft.

  Gasping, he jerked his hips and won a free stroke.

  “I need a solid, reliable pen for grading.” Soft and squirmy, all of him, except the rigid cock she teased with an almost-there massage. The short-trimmed, fuzzy hair surrounding him tickled her palm. “One that won’t spill any ink until I’m ready to judge your work. This is just the one I want.”

  As if steeling himself for a marathon ride, he blew out a breath. “Thank you, Mistress.”

  “First word.” Channeling his energy into mental work would distract him from coming too soon, but if he got out in front of her, she’d shorten the quiz. “Breathe.” She matched action to speech, emptying her lungs beside his ear. “Breathe.”