The next voice in his head was the one reminding him that he was standing with his fingers buried in a woman’s pussy, a woman who was not his wife, and his wife was standing right there in the white porno wedding outfit, and what the hell was he thinking? None of this was allowed. This was the type of thinking that had landed him in the counselor’s office.
Delia was smiling. Her dreamy, turned-on smile. Watching his hand as if she wished she were in Mara’s place, or possibly in the place of his hand, but certainly not as though she were pissed off at him for putting it there.
The Dom voice reminded him that he was in charge, and there were certain perks to being in charge, even if they came at the cost of torturing his already painfully hard, pussy-starved penis. So he smiled at Delia and pulled his fingers free to offer them to her.
“Come and clean them off.”
And she did, with great enthusiasm.
“Does she taste good, Dee?”
“Yes, Master.”
“If you’re good, you’ll get another taste later.”
“Thank you, Master. If that pleases you.”
“I can’t really see how it wouldn’t.” He stroked a finger back along Mara’s slit, then gently felt lower until he found her clit. Another very gratifying reaction from her. “Dee, go get the vibe that’s on the edge of the couch over there. There’s an outlet right next to this corner. You can go ahead and plug it in there.”
While she was scurrying to do all that, he leaned over Mara and spoke low, next to her ear. Not to hide anything from Delia, but because it seemed more powerful that way. “You know which vibe I’m talking about, don’t you, Mara?”
She nodded and whimpered. Her hair was clinging to her forehead, damp and endearingly messy. Delia had missed a few strands, it seemed.
“You didn’t get to come last night. That’s why I owed you. If I make you come now, with the vibrator, will you be able to get there again later?”
Another nod. Good. Women amazed him with their ability to come more than once in a short period of time. Delia insisted it wasn’t that complicated, but sometimes he really couldn’t tell what the hell was going on with her orgasms. He didn’t necessarily understand where they came from, where the pleasure was actually located in her body. And it was like once she got going, she couldn’t always stop. Whereas he had known himself to come twice in an evening if he planned ahead and timed it all perfectly, but that was a very rare event. Usually it was just the once, and he was fine with that because it seemed a lot less complicated than the whole nebulous deal with vaginas and clitorises and G-spots. Oh my.
Delia handed him the big, corded vibrator, and he flicked it on for a second, recoiling a little at the strength of the vibration.
“You’re already really close, aren’t you?” he asked Mara, to be on the safe side.
“Yes, Master. Please . . .”
“Shhh.”
He slipped his fingers back into her, relishing the fresh rush of heat that greeted him, and pumped them a few times until her hips started to counter his movement. He could feel her channel tensing around him, feel the coiled readiness in her. And he almost felt bad for what he was about to do, because he knew it’d probably hurt like hell even though it’d make her come her brains out. But mostly he was looking forward to seeing her come her brains out.
“Lift up,” he coaxed, tugging upward with his happily ensconced fingers.
Then he flicked the monster vibe on, slid it directly under her pelvic bone, and pushed back down with his fingers so she came to rest on the thing clit-first. And then he didn’t let her move. And then he turned it up to full.
After that, it only took three seconds for Mara to start coming in a way he could only describe as “epic.”
The scream was kind of intimidating. And he heard some words he wasn’t sure he recognized. Either she was cursing in two languages or speaking in tongues. Her body thrashed within the narrow limits of the restraints as she alternated trying to push away from the devil-vibe with trying to ride it. And he never relented with his hand, kept fucking her pussy with his fingers until she was a twitching, trembling mess and her stream of obscenities had disintegrated into simple begging to stop.
He pulled the vibe away and handed it back to Delia, who took it with a look of frightened awe and turned it off.
“I think that evens things out somewhat. Don’t you?”
Mara tried to nod, but her head only made it up and down one time. He chuckled and made his way to the table where the water pitcher sat, pouring a glass for himself and taking a hefty swig before returning to the bench to hand Delia an ice cube.
“Feed her that until it’s gone.”
She took the cube and held it to Mara’s lips, teasing them open until Mara began licking and sucking at the ice.
He turned away from them, needing a break before he saw any more imagery that might set him off. He rolled his shoulders and neck, stretching his arms in a leisurely way, and strolled across the room to examine the stuff he’d pulled out. Took a few minutes examining other things in the drawers while his pulse evened out. And then, feeling close to restored, he turned back to the women, who had fallen suspiciously silent.
They were kissing.
He watched for a minute, completely enamored of the whole situation. Even after he realized he should be scolding them or something, he couldn’t bring himself to stop them. They looked so fucking hot.
He could bring himself to participate, though. And maybe even direct.
For instance, as the Dom, he thought he should get a say over certain details like wardrobe and hand placement.
He’d need to unshackle a sub for that, though.
Both girls jumped when he pulled at the first leg shackle. He smirked at them and went on with what he was doing. When they didn’t resume the kissing, he played the eyebrow card. “I didn’t say to stop.”
They both looked stricken with shyness, which was pretty damn cute. But then they started necking again. He finished releasing both of Mara’s feet and moved to the hands, pressing a kiss to his wife’s shoulder before he ducked between Delia and the bench to undo the last restraint.
Probably not too Dom-like, he considered, the way he clicked his tongue and tapped Delia’s shoulder to get her to move out of the way so he could pick Mara up from the horse. He was probably supposed to have some special “move out of the way” command. So much to learn. But whatever. He at least had a mostly naked, trembling girl in his arms, so he couldn’t really beat himself up too much about these minor details.
The corset was surprisingly scratchy against his skin, and Mara wasn’t quite as heavy as he’d expected. It was a few steps over to the closest couch, where he managed not to dump her too abruptly. He leaned against the low, broad arm of the thing for a moment, testing its strength. It was built solidly, and didn’t even protest his weight.
“We need some furniture like this, Dee. They look like something Romans would lie around on while slaves fed them grapes. And then there’d be orgies and stuff.”
“Especially orgies.” Delia had followed them over and perched on the edge of the orgy couch. She was trying to look submissive and attentive, but her eyes kept straying over to her fellow sub’s chest.
He really couldn’t blame her. Mara’s tits were pretty stunning. And he also found that, while the idea of Delia’s bisexuality had sometimes left him vaguely concerned lest he be found wanting, in practice it seemed to mean he got to watch his wife check out another woman’s stunning tits. And the whole D/s thing meant he could tell Delia to do stuff to them, and odds were very high she would. And then there’d be orgies and stuff. Especially orgies.
The situation contained so much win he almost couldn’t comprehend it all. But yet another great factor was that he didn’t have to sit idly by while he waited for his brain to process all this good fortune.
“Back to making out, you two.”
And they did that. Which was awesome.
&nbs
p; Delia could have kissed Mara forever. Her lips were soft and her tongue velvety plush, and they had the same kissing style, so it was as though Mara could read her thoughts and anticipate what she wanted before she knew it herself. She wondered if it felt the same to Mara. Like they had one mind.
When Daniel had told them to get back to it, she had complied happily. Now, though, hovering on all fours over Mara’s limp, sated body, she wanted more. But she was frustrated too, because she wanted her master to be the one to tell her to do more.
That’s what makes it hot.
In any other circumstance the lack of agency would drive her insane. But her arousal level simply did not respond to idealism like it did to orders. Sometimes it wasn’t worth overanalyzing these things.
She leaned into the kiss a little more. Lowered her body an inch or two, letting her breasts graze against Mara’s. Hoping Daniel would be distracted enough by the garters and stockings framing her ass and pussy that he wouldn’t notice.
He was a man, a horny straight man. Of course he noticed, but he didn’t seem to mind.
“Dee, making out includes groping. But since you seem to need some guidance, here, let me.”
Daniel nudged his head between them far enough to catch Delia’s nipple with his tongue. She angled herself to give him more room, felt his head working even as she swallowed Mara’s groan, and realized he was alternating between them.
She pulled her head back, needing air, but he popped up, intercepted her, and took her mouth in a hard, messy kiss. So different from Mara’s, but every bit as good in its way. She had no idea what Daniel was thinking, and that excited her too.
Well. She had some idea. He kissed Mara next, the same way, hard and fast with lots of plundering tongue. Delia knew she was supposed to feel jealous. But she didn’t. Not jealous of them, just impatient for it to be her turn again. With either of them. She didn’t care which. It was glorious.
Daniel raised his head again, gave her a sultry scowl. “I showed you how I want you to suck her nipples, Dee. I expect you to get right on that.”
Oh my God, who are you and what have you done with my husband? And does he ever have to come back?
And then . . . then her master curved the long fingers of one hand over her head and pressed her down until her nose brushed the areola of Mara’s right breast. “Now, Dee.”
She opened her mouth, took a tentative lick at the ruffled skin. And then another, and then she rounded her lips to take in the nipple. Slowly, savoring it. Remembering what to do, as it had been years since her last girlfriend. Whose breasts had been nowhere near as lovely as Mara’s.
The sensitive skin was tightening even as she worked her lips, flicked her tongue against it. She nipped lightly, and Mara arched into her, the soft skin of her breast pressing pillow-like against Delia’s chin and nose. Not too big, not too small.
Juuust right, Delia thought, and wondered why they were all so full of fairy tales in this room.
She sucked and licked her way to the other side, and wished that it wasn’t only a fairy tale. That nights at home could be full of this too, this languid exploration of all the possibilities. Knowing that nobody need ever go unkissed while having their nipples sucked. That going down and penetration need not be mutually exclusive acts. That clothing could perhaps, depending on style, be shared, and that Daniel could finally have somebody to play computer games with him who didn’t get bored after half an hour of the fighting part.
When her mind veered off sex into clothes, she felt a shift, a new possibility come into being. A new way to see things, do things. Glancing up, she saw Daniel still leaning into Mara’s mouth, taking his time.
“Does she kiss like me, Master?”
He pulled back but kept his eyes trained on Mara. “She does.”
He was perspiring, a fine sheen highlighting the back of his neck, turning his brown hair almost black. His black T-shirt was clinging to his back in spots. Delia was the only one who hadn’t worked up a sweat yet, but she didn’t mind. Things were getting done. She was part of it. Sooner or later, it would be her turn.
“Can we keep her, Master?”
He just smiled, and Mara chuckled. The movement caused a wonderful ripple effect across her chest. Delia fastened her teeth back onto the closest nipple and scraped her tongue across the flesh, hard. Things were getting done. But she wouldn’t mind more things getting done faster. She wouldn’t mind being one of those things.
With a final brush of a kiss against Mara’s lips, Daniel stood and walked to the end of the other couch, where his various tools and implements of pleasurable destruction still occupied space. He cupped his hand around whatever it was he’d picked up and spread lube on. Something else he’d bought at the store. He’d been very cagey about his purchases, revealing them one by one. She wondered how many items had been in that bag.
“You don’t need to be watching me, you need to be paying attention to what you’re doing, Dee. Also, right now you have about five seconds to work your way down to her pussy, so you may want to move it.”
She moved, not as gracefully as she should have. Down to the end of the couch, resting her feet on top of the low, broad arm while she knelt between Mara’s thighs and gently pushed the other woman’s legs up and apart. Mara groaned and bent her knees, letting them fall open.
Mara’s skin looked soft, and when Delia bent to test with her tongue, she tasted salt and felt velvet smoothness. A little warm, a little puffy from the earlier abuse. And she could see the edges of the marks Daniel had left, the darker red embossment from the cane still vivid, the pink from the flogger already starting to fade. She wondered whether she should start waxing.
Her own rear was still worse for wear from the tawse last night. It had packed an unexpected wallop, and she’d found a few welts and bruises this morning. They were pretty, a spot of color on her otherwise barely tanned skin. She would like to see Mara’s skin in the morning, see how much of a lasting impression Daniel had made. See what Mara looked like in the morning. Acted like. Would she be chipper, or would she be grumpy until she’d been fed breakfast and plied with coffee?
Daniel’s hand was on her head again, pushing.
“Get. To. Work.”
She hadn’t eaten pussy in years. But she found it was like riding a bicycle. At least in that one apparently never forgot how. Otherwise, it was completely unlike riding a bicycle. It was unlike anything else, a unique experience that combined some of the best bits of sex, kissing, and eating. Salty and tangy-sweet, with an intriguing give under the tongue. Each labial frill had its own level of response, its own tolerance for abuse. Rougher on the outer, with nips and pulling. Softer on the inner, a place for delving tongues. Feather kisses, ghost kisses across a clitoral hood still flushed from orgasm, or perhaps already swelling again with a freshly aroused surge of blood.
Mara whimpered, shifting her hips restlessly. She seemed to like having her opening teased with a finger while her clit was lapped at with little puppy licks.
Delia had almost forgotten about Daniel. He came up behind her now and tapped her inner thighs, slapping from one to the other.
“Wider.” And then, when she apparently didn’t move enough to please him, another, sharper slap. “Wider, Dee.”
She edged her knees and feet out and pushed her butt higher, lowering her chest almost to the couch and curving one hand under Mara’s thigh while she rested on the opposite elbow.
“Nobody comes until I say so,” he reminded them both.
She tried to keep her focus on the task at hand, but it grew difficult once Daniel started on his own task. She realized quickly that the butt plug he’d purchased at Delights was bigger than her existing one. Wider, and much broader—not so fast, not so fast—than the last anal bead on the string she was used to.
He slowed down, reading her as he always did, and teased his way around the tight opening with a lubed finger until she relaxed. The plug slipped deeper, and as her flesh stretched to acc
ommodate it, the familiar slow burn spread over her back and legs. This form of arousal was almost too keen to stand, like experiencing an orgasm from the outside in. Every nerve alive, eager, anticipating, but threatening to overload the whole system in their zeal.
When the plug was finally seated, she sighed with relief and eased up a little more. It felt thick and long inside her, solid and heavy. She hadn’t seen Daniel get undressed, but she could feel his cock pressing against her now, slipping across her pussy. He was taunting her with it. Without thinking, she echoed the motion of his erection with her tongue across Mara’s slit, a sympathetic tempo of desire carrying itself from one partner to the next. Mara moaned, Delia moaned, Daniel laughed and then started to work himself inside her. Slowly, because she was tight from the plug. And sore from last night. And already trembling on the brink of an orgasm because she was so keyed up from watching Mara on the horse and everything else. Delia suspected he could see her readiness like a tattoo across her back.
The thing in her ass started to vibrate. Her head shot up, her back arched down, and she opened her mouth to holler but nothing much came out.
“Guh!” she finally managed.
Daniel inched deeper and gave her a slap on the hip.
She took a deep breath and tried to sort them out, all the sensations. Too much, too many. So good.
Another slap. “Back to work, Dee. That pussy’s not gonna go down on itself.”
Well, that didn’t even make sense. But it was steadying, in a way, to know Daniel was affected by this too. As an army of fiery sprites began a spirited dance up her spine, she bent back to the luscious field of pink in front of her and attacked it with fresh intensity. Ferocity, really. She transferred all the emotions, all the things she couldn’t express, into this one action, writing her desires out on Mara’s sex with her tongue and fingers in rapid, sharp strokes.
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