Knowing the Ropes

by Teresa Noelle Roberts

  Even if it wasn’t what Alison meant—people as in love as Alison and Garth tended to want their friends just as happily paired off—it was what Selene would do.

  She took one last look in the mirror and went to join the party.

  The day had passed swiftly…and, to Selene’s profound disappointment, surprisingly normally. Sure, Nick kept pulling her aside and caressing her, and a couple of times had her fetch drinks for him or perform some other small service. Sure, Alison kept grinning wickedly and flirtatiously at her.

  Alison in a bikini was an erotic force of nature. She had a surprisingly tight, lovely little body. And who’d have guessed about the tattoo starting somewhere below her teeny turquoise bottom and working up onto her gently curved belly? A chained rose. A lot of the other guests also sported suggestive tattoos or piercings, but Alison wore it better than say, Joe-Bear and his boyfriend. They were obviously hot for each other’s stocky, hairy, tattooed bodies, but the view didn’t do much for Selene.

  But then a couple showed up with kids in tow, and the older couple from next door dropped by, as did some of Garth’s and Alison’s coworkers, and while the edgy undercurrent remained, nothing happened.

  Not until much, much later. Not until after dusk, when most of the guests were gone and mosquitoes and black flies drove the remaining ones inside.

  Finally, it was down to Garth and Alison and Selene and Nick. Alison was settled at Garth’s feet, not kneeling, Selene had noted, but leaning back comfortably against her master in a way that seemed as sweet and loving as it was dominant/submissive. Selene was curled up next to Nick on the love seat. It was funny that it seemed so natural. Just because they’d had wild monkey sex, even wild kinky monkey sex, didn’t necessarily mean they’d be one hundred percent comfortable with each other, but already, they seemed to prefer to be in easy touching distance if not actually touching.

  It all felt very cozy and relaxed and pleasant.

  And then the bomb dropped.

  “So,” Nick said, “I hear you were kissing Alison.”

  Selene felt her eyes widening, her cheeks burning. She nodded, suddenly unable to speak.

  She wasn’t sure why she was so embarrassed. Kissing another woman wasn’t something she did every day, but other people did it on a regular basis. Maybe it was Nick’s tone, both richly amused and scolding. Maybe it was that both Garth and Alison were in the room.

  Or maybe it was that the heat of embarrassment blurred with another kind of heat that flared from her lips to her nipples down to her groin as she remembered that kiss.

  “Not very generous of you two not to share, was it?” Garth looked rather sternly at Alison as he said that. “You know the rules.”

  Was Alison going to be punished for what they’d done? Imagining dark and terrifying possibilities based on erotic novels and kinky websites, Selene sprang to her defense. “It was just a little smooch. You didn’t miss anything.”

  Only when the words escaped her mouth did she admit to herself that some of the dark possibilities rushing through her head sounded more intriguing than alarming, and that if there were any interesting punishments being handed out, she wanted her share.

  Nick and Garth exchanged significant looks. She remembered how Alison had said they were like brothers, but brother wasn’t the right word. Best friends, two sides of a coin and definitely coconspirators, but the situation that was rapidly unfolding just wasn’t a brotherly one.

  “We’d like to be the judge of whether we missed anything or not,” Garth said.

  Nick nodded. “So we want a recap.”

  Time for that deer-in-the-headlights feeling again. She should be getting used to it by now, but apparently it wasn’t one of those things she got used to easily. “But…” Wasn’t it a little tacky to perform like that, like two women kissing was something that only happened for men to enjoy? Ms. Manners probably didn’t cover it, but she’d bet Betsy or some of the women she’d volunteered with at the Rochester domestic violence hotline might have a pretty strong opinion.

  Alison hopped up off the floor and closed in for the kill—or rather the kiss—without hesitation.

  Selene froze.

  “Selene,” Nick said in that deep, menacing voice. “Virtual collar. Remember what we talked about?”

  She tried to think through her panic. Was this something to protest, to safe-word?

  Her brain was sorting through it all, weighing modesty and embarrassment and political correctness and where this fairly innocuous order might lead, and whether she really enjoyed this kind of being told what to do in the first place.

  Her body had its own views, which were much less complicated and much less concerned with social niceties, political correctness or even common sense.

  Her body informed her, with a surge of lust, that she wanted to kiss Alison again. In fact, her body thought doing more than kissing Alison sounded pretty exciting. Those ghosted rings were terribly sexy, and that complex tattoo had drawn Selene’s eye and her heated imagination more than once during the party. Did it extend all the way down to her mound, like it appeared to? She’d certainly wondered before—she’d be willing to bet most women, no matter how straight, had—how another woman would taste, how her soft skin would feel under her hands. This might be her chance to find out.

  And her body informed her even more strongly that she wanted to kiss Alison because Nick wanted her to. It was a damn fine idea on its own merits but made irresistible by Nick’s wish, Nick’s desire.

  She rose, met Alison halfway.

  Alison smelled vaguely of chlorine and sunscreen, and her kiss tasted of Pinot Grigio, which she’d been sipping instead of margaritas or beer, and she twined around Selene like an affectionate cat.

  The men watched quietly, but Selene was acutely conscious of Nick’s fierce blue gaze and Garth’s dark one. What had felt natural when she and Alison were alone together now felt awkward, like a performance—and the part of Selene that had reveled in being made to come in front of South Station found it all the hotter for that, hot enough that her nipples ached almost immediately. Blood pooled in her pelvis, making her feel drowsy and grounded and very sexy. Alison’s skin blazed under her hands and Alison’s hands ran over her back and ass and upper thighs, leaving trails of pleasure in their wake, and she made little wild noises into Alison’s mouth.

  “Would you like my slave to make you come?” Garth asked politely, as if he were offering her another drink or perhaps some ice cream.

  Chapter Nine

  “I…uh…” Selene’s body ached to say yes—her juices were dripping down her thighs, her breasts strained to be touched, and every vague fantasy or idle thought she’d ever had about being with a woman or being put on display was pulsating through her cunt—but her brain locked down, unable to let her say yes or no.

  “I’d really like to, sweetie,” Alison said, looking up at her with soft eyes. “Master is very fussy about which girls I’m allowed to play with, and I came home from our coffee date talking about how hot you were.”

  “Let’s be honest,” Garth interjected. “We’ve spent a few happy evenings imagining you and her together, and that was before I even saw you.”

  If Selene hadn’t already been blushing, that would have made her cheeks flame, the idea that she’d been a matter of bedroom banter between this sexually dynamic couple.

  That made her even hotter.

  But still she couldn’t speak.

  Nick got up, slipped his arms around her from behind so she was sandwiched between his tall, hard body and Alison’s tiny, soft one. “You’re allowed to say no, Selene. But I want you to do it. Want you to let Alison use you for my pleasure and Garth’s.” One big hand cupped her sex through her dress. She moaned, arched, felt Alison’s breasts press against hers as she ground her ass against Nick’s impossibly hard cock. “And yours too. I can feel how wet you are,” he whispered. “You soaked right through your dress as soon as I touched you. Will you do this for us, Selen
e? For all of us?”

  To feel Alison’s hands and tongue on her while Nick and Garth watched…

  “God, yes,” she finally admitted, pure lust getting the better of anything else.

  “Undress her,” Garth commanded Alison.

  As if in a dream, Selene let Alison unzip her dress and let it fall to pool at her feet. As if in a dream, she helped Alison out of her clothes.

  Alison was beautiful, Selene’s stunned brain registered.

  Selene had already guessed Alison had a genital piercing—but not that she had a neat triad of rings, two in her labia and one in her clit hood, or that her nipples were pierced as well.

  The rose-and-chain tattoo extended down to her bare pubic mound, with chains going down her outer lips. Selene didn’t want to imagine how much that must have hurt, but the effect was lovely.

  Then Alison knelt with practiced grace in front of Selene.

  Nick ran his hands up Selene’s body to cup her breasts, then stepped back and sat next to Garth.

  Selene felt like she should look at the redhead in front of her, but her eyes followed Nick. She met his blue gaze, smiled nervously. “Good girl,” she heard him say, and the words burned in her veins like a drug. “After Alison’s had you, I’m going to use your mouth.” Selene clenched.

  Alison slid one arm around her hips, pulling her closer.

  Warm breath teased her aching clit.

  Alison’s fingers brushed against her opening. “You’re drenched,” she said, and Selene felt the words reverberate through her pussy.

  “Please,” she whimpered, all nervousness drowning in waves of desire.

  Alison’s hot mouth closed on her clit at the same time first one, then two, fingers penetrated her.

  Alison’s tongue was soft and sweet, but she let Selene feel the gentle pressure of her teeth as well, notching her arousal up yet another level.

  Nick stroked his cock through his clothes and smiled at her in a way that caressed her almost as much as Alison was. She couldn’t look at Garth, didn’t dare to see if he too was touching himself.

  Instead, she looked down at Alison—at the sweep of her red hair, at her small, neat breasts, the rings in them not visible from this angle, the line of her pale, freckled back. At her delicate beauty.

  At the beautiful woman pouring wave after wave of pleasure through her with lips and tongue and fingers.

  Delicious.

  The redhead pulled her fingers out, reinserted them at a different angle, beckoned at Selene’s G-spot as she licked and suckled her clit.

  Selene’s nails dug into Alison’s shoulders as she came, clenching around the fingers inside her, grinding against the sweet tongue. She felt her knees buckling, took a deep breath, tried to steady herself.

  Alison flicked her tongue, and Selene realized there was no hope. None at all. One orgasm segued into another, or maybe it was one giant one, and there was no way she’d be able to stand much longer.

  Strong arms surrounded her from behind, held her up for Alison’s final ministrations. Kept holding her, stroking her, murmuring how beautiful and hot she was, as Alison stood, gave her a final kiss and retreated.

  “But,” Selene said weakly, “shouldn’t I… I mean I’d like…” Alison had made her come so wonderfully. Wouldn’t she get to return the pleasure?

  “Some other time,” Garth said, understanding her incoherent mutterings. “Right now, I’m going to be greedy and drag Alison away. Master’s prerogative.”

  The other couple wasn’t out of the room before Nick had Selene bent over a sturdy-looking table. “Was going to use your mouth, but I couldn’t let Alison’s fingers have all the fun here,” he said, his voice harsh and choked with lust as he ran his fingers over her dripping pussy, making her gasp and buck.

  Garth’s and Alison’s footsteps stopped. She didn’t dare look, but she knew they were frozen in the doorway, watching.

  Nick didn’t take the time to undress all the way, just unzipped, pulled a condom from his pocket. It was a matter of seconds before he was pounding into her, filling her completely, riding her hard. With each thrust, her breasts bobbed, and she was so hot and sensitive that the movement of air over her nipples felt like the touch of a hand. As Nick’s body crashed into hers, she felt the lingering tenderness in her bottom, sending more thrills through her.

  Hard but patient, not a quick, brutal fuck but an extended, brutal one, and she was loving it.

  She wasn’t sure she could come again, but she didn’t mind. She was on a wonderful plateau, riding the sensations, savoring his fat cock slamming into her, and it was all good.

  Then Nick slapped at her breast, and as the bright red shock of good pain layered with all the other sensations, she realized she was wrong. She could come again.

  Deep convulsions tried to suck Nick’s cock so deep inside her it would never come out.

  Nick froze, buried to the hilt in her, then roared something that might have been words. Although she knew it made no sense with the condom on, Selene swore she could feel his come burning into her.

  When her head cleared enough for curiosity, she glanced toward the door.

  Garth and Alison hadn’t made it out of the room. He’d picked up his tiny slave and was fucking her against the wall, her legs and arms wrapped around him, his hands under her ass, moving her up and down.

  Nick collapsed onto the couch, then patted his lap to indicate Selene should sit there. “Might as well enjoy the rest of the show.”

  Chapter Ten

  The next weekend, the heat continued unabated. It peaked on Sunday, prompting another barbecue/pool party at Garth and Alison’s. This one was smaller, just their closest friends from Kinksters United.

  “So, you ever hear anything from Nat?” Betsy asked Nick as she plopped some marinated tofu onto the grill at a safe distance from the burgers.

  Nick liked Betsy, but he suddenly wanted to dive into the pool fully clothed, drink and grill tongs in hand. “Not really,” he said, knowing that there was more to the question than idle curiosity. Always was with Betsy. He flipped a few burgers, hoping to dissuade the line of conversation. He was in a great mood after a wonderful, sex-drenched Saturday night with Selene. Why spoil it by thinking about his ex? Right now the most serious thing he wanted to ponder was whether his linen shirt was actually fusing to his skin thanks to sweat.

  “I was afraid of that.”

  He shrugged. “She dumped me. ‘Asked to be released’, but yeah, dumped me. We don’t have a lot to talk about anymore.” Especially now. A few months ago—hell, a few weeks ago—he’d have been thrilled to hear from her, especially if she was showing signs of wanting to come back. He’d have known it was a stupid idea, but he’d have still been flattered, and face it, hard as a rock at the thought of her slender, pliant body kneeling in front of him again or wrapped around him in bed. But Selene had changed that. She might be Ms. Right-Now, but Ms. Right-Now had done a number on any remaining illusions that Natalie was anything close to Ms. Right.

  Oh, Natalie was two hundred pounds of pure sex in a one-hundred-pound body. He still got turned on remembering some of their better times. But Selene had reminded him of something very important: sane chicks were just as fun and a lot less stressful.

  “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth,” Betsy said. “Last I heard, she’d met some new dom on the Internet and was going to North Nowhere New Hampshire to move in with him. Which scared me to start with because it seemed awfully fast, and you know Natalie’s not the type to make sure the guy’s not on America’s Most Wanted. And now her blog’s deleted, her e-mail bounces, her cell phone’s been turned off, and maybe that’s just because she’s practically in Canada and had to change services, but as far as I know, she hasn’t given anyone a new number or e-mail. Not me, not Janna and Steve, not Debbie, not Alison and Garth. No one. Hell, I even swallowed the urge to barf and asked Craig yesterday. He’s tried to track her down and couldn’t. It’s like she stopped existing.�
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  Craig might be the world’s biggest asshole, but he knew his way around the Internet, including, rumor had it, some creepy stalker’s tricks that could find people who didn’t have a listed phone number. If he couldn’t find her, it wasn’t a good sign.

  Nick tried and failed to shut out the ugly images that started flashing through his mind: Natalie in trouble. Natalie trapped in the home of some psychotic redneck. Natalie locked in a cage for real, not as part of a sex game, starved and abused.

  Natalie’s body stashed in the New Hampshire wilderness somewhere, never to be found.

  “You know Natalie gets one hundred percent focused on whoever she’s with,” he said, trying to convince himself. “When she first started seeing me, I had to remind her it was okay to get together with her friends, even to take the time from me to call you guys. If she’s found the dom of her dreams…”

  “You mean the psycho control freak of her dreams?”

  Despite his worry, Nick laughed. “From me, that would have sounded bitter. From you, it’s just the truth. I could see her letting someone encourage her to cut all her old ties and start fresh. It’s weird, but not necessarily bad,” he added, not believing it. For someone whose old friends were drug-addled losers or otherwise poisonous, sure, but Natalie’s friends were mostly good people, people a lot more sensible than she sometimes was.

  “Oh yeah, it’s bad. Maybe she wouldn’t think to call me. It’s a classic girl thing to get so into a new relationship you lose touch with people. Queer or straight, kinky or vanilla, we all do it sometimes until our friends are like, ‘Are you dead?’ But Debbie says she’s missed two scheduled photo shoots.”

  At that news, Nick could only say, “Oh shit.”

  Natalie was a flake but not about professional responsibilities. Once she committed to something, whether her day job, her work as a fetish model or a volunteer activity, she took it seriously—too eager to please, he thought, to let anyone down. If she’d blown off her commitments to Debbie, something was very wrong.