Heart Song Anthology

by Carolyn Faulkner

  Warrington recognized Alison’s uncomforted stance. He stepped away from the hotel wall and began walking towards the two women.

  Alison immediately saw him from the corner of her eye. He had barely taken a few steps before Alison raised her hand to wave to him, the hand Miranda had entwined her fingers around, forcing Miranda to release her hold.

  Miranda saw Warrington as well, taking a step back from Alison.

  “Matt,” Alison called, a look of relief coming over her face.

  Warrington was quickly beside them. “Ladies.”

  “The meeting over?” Miranda asked.

  “Just,” he said, “it ran later than I expected.” Turning to Alison, he said, “Sorry I’m late, have you been waiting long?” He pulled her into him for a kiss.

  “No, I barely just got here myself, traffic was terrible. But it’s okay, Miranda has been keeping me company.”

  “Yes,” said Miranda, looking awkward. “Anyway, I’m off.” She literally was. As soon as she said the words she was in motion, heading towards the front entrance of the hotel. “Safe drive home,” she said, her words trailing off behind her.

  Alison and Warrington were left together, standing beside the sedan. On cue, William was at their side, opening the passenger door to the car. Alison slide in first, Warrington right after her.

  As the car turned out of the hotel driveway, Alison turned to Warrington. “That was weird.”

  “What’s weird?” Warrington asked, but knew.

  “Miranda,” continued Alison, turning to look out the window as the car eased into rush hour traffic, barely crawling along. “I’ve never seen her like that.”

  “Like what?”

  Alison paused, trying to find the right word. “Cheerful.” She laughed and Warrington laughed as well. “She even held my hand. I don’t think I’ve ever held her hand.”

  “What were to two of you talking about?”

  Alison turned away from the window, looking at Warrington. “The Lover’s Ball. She’s looking forward to it. Remember last year? She didn’t even want to go.”

  “Well, it is her hotel now. Her priorities are different. She has to be there.”

  “True, but I got the impression she wants to be there.” Alison looked out the window again. It was raining lightly. All she could see were bleary car lights. She needed to gather her thoughts before saying, “Is there something up with you two, Matt?” She kept her gaze on the bleary images outside the car.

  Warrington was surprised by the question. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, are you seeing her again?”

  “Why would you ask that?”

  Alison turned to look at Warrington. “You two used to be together, before you and me. She’s by herself now. Maybe she’s looking for another Dom to be with.” Alison looked out the window again. “Maybe she wants to be with you again. When I was waiting for you, when we were talking, she kept talking about you. How it was with you, saying she envied me. She seemed overly interested in you and me.” Alison paused. “She said she really hoped we came to the Lover’s Ball tomorrow. She said she hoped we would spend more time together.” Alison looked at Warrington. “Does she really mean you? More time with you?”

  Warrington chuckled.

  Alison punched him in the shoulder. “This isn’t funny, Matt. Is there something going on? I want to know.”

  Warrington got his amusement under control. “You’re right, she does want to spend more time with me.”

  “I knew it.” Alison crossed her arms in anger.

  “And you.”

  Alison, stewing, did not respond.

  Warrington pried her arm away from her chest, opening her fingers to hold her hand. “And you,” he repeated. “More so, you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It means she doesn’t just want to be with me, she wants to be with you. Definitely you more than me.”

  Warrington let the words sink in. He watched Alison’s face as she thought about what he said. The anger dissipated, replaced with a puzzled look.

  “With me?”

  Warrington nodded.

  “Me. Like shopping and stuff?”

  Warrington shook his head. “No, I’m talking more intimately.”

  Alison’s confusion returned, until it dawned on her. “With me. Me and Miranda, like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you?”

  “Yes, the three of us. Me, you and Miranda.”

  Alison looked out the window a moment, and then back at him.

  “Why?”

  “She fancies you. She loves you and wants to explore that a bit more.”

  “Matt, I love her too, but,” she hesitated, “but not that way.”

  “Why not explore it that way?” Warrington asked.

  Alison appeared shocked. “You like the idea?”

  Warrington looked at Alison, saying nothing.

  Alison looked back. “You do,” she said, incredulous. “You like the idea.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. I know you well enough to know when something interests you.”

  “And what do you think of the idea? A bit of a change might be nice.”

  Alison couldn’t believe the question. “Really, Matt? Seriously?” She crossed her arms again, looking out the window. “I like what we have.”

  Warrington sat looking forward, suddenly realizing the window between the front seat, where William sat driving, and the two of them in the back seat was down. William could hear their conversation. Warrington wasn’t overly concerned. Over the past few years, he was sure William had heard more daring conversations from other passengers. He’d hired him for his discretion and William had never given him reason to doubt it.

  Regardless, he leaned slightly forward, saying, “William?”

  “Yes, sir?” William never took his eyes off the road, even though it seemed they were going nowhere, such was how thick the rush hour traffic was.

  “Take the long way home.” With this, Warrington pushed a button on the console and the tinted, soundproof glass partition began to slowly rise into place. Alison noticed the partition rising and looked to Warrington. Warrington shifted his body around to face Alison. He reached over and put an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in to him.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. With his left hand, he reached down and put his hand on her inner thigh. She squirmed, trying to free herself, but his hold around her shoulder was stronger than she thought.

  Warrington ignored the question. “I like what we have too. I love what we have.” He took his hand off her thigh, reaching up to unknot his necktie. “But we can have more. We can explore more together.” He managed to untie his tie. He released Alison’s shoulder, holding his tie out in front of him, held taut between his two hands. “Turn over.”

  What?” Alison was confused.

  “Turn over and get on your knees. Face the back window.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  Alison realized where Warrington was going with this.

  “Put your wrists together.”

  “Yes, sir.” She did as she was asked.

  Warrington quickly looped his necktie around both her wrists, leaving one end long. He then pulled Alison’s hands forward with the dangling end of the necktie. He wrapped the remaining loose end around the headrest, tying it tight and close to the headrest. Alison knelt, looking at the fogged up rear window. Her body was held close and tight to the back of the seat, pulled by the necktie. Her ass was in the air, her knees tight together, forcing down into the leather of the seat, her feet hanging over the edge. Her right shoe fell off her foot.

  Warrington took his pocket square out of the breast pocket of his jacket. He shook it out. Taking two of the points in his fingers, he folded it once, making it into a triangle, making a blindfold. He placed the fabric over Alison’s eyes, tying it off behind her head. She tried
to look around, but could see only vague shapes and light. She smelled Warrington’s musky cologne on the silk cloth. The scent excited her.

  Her legs began to tremble; Warrington saw this and placed a hand on her upraised ass. “You’re trembling.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Excitement or fear?”

  She did not answer. He slapped her ass, forcing her forward. She bumped her chin against the headrest.

  “Both.”

  “Good.”

  He threw her skirt up, then reached in and pulled her panties down. His quickness startled her slightly. The air conditioning in the car was on and Warrington adjusted the vents. Alison felt cold air blowing against her naked thighs, causing her to both shiver and quiver at the same time.

  She could not see him, but she heard him. She heard him slide back into the seat beside her, sitting down, facing forward. Seconds that felt like an eternity passed. The air continued to blow against her nakedness, arousing and chilling her. If it weren’t for the steady breeze she felt between her legs, she was sure she would be wet by now, she felt the warmth inside her.

  He finally touched her.

  She twitched from the unexpectedness of it.

  His right hand rested on her inner thigh. He was kneading it with his fingers, gently, steadily. Slowly, he pulled her leg towards him, forcing her to open her legs, to widen her stance so as not to fall into him. Doing so caused the cool air to reach new places between her legs, touching her slightly opened pussy lips. As it blew against her clit, she shuddered. He stopped pulling her, as if this were his aim in the first place. She tried to close her leg slightly, to reduce her exposure to the flowing air, but he held her fast, not allowing it. The cool blowing air pleasantly, pleasingly tortured her. The breeze could no longer cool the wetness gathering on her inner thighs.

  Warrington’s hand began to creep up her thigh, towards her pussy. She was free of his grip as his fingers moved. She chose to remain motionless; the breeze was taking her to the edge, and she wanted to get there.

  “Do you remember this morning?” He said this as his fingers continued to climb up her thigh.

  “Yes, sir.” She knew it would come back to this morning. Alison’s body tensed. She remembered, she realized what he was saying.

  “Miranda,” she breathed the name. “It was Miranda.”

  His fingers now reached her soaked pussy. The tips of his fingers danced on her clit while the air blew around them. He played with her clit the same way Miranda had as he’d watched, gently touching, tweaking, stroking. Alison’s mind was a jumble of sensations, emotions, and confusion. Miranda had brought her to a deep, sensuous orgasm with her fingers, just as Warrington was doing now.

  Her body began to ripple as the wave of her orgasm burst forth, just as it had earlier. She came hard then, just as she did now. Amid her ecstasy, in the fog of her thoughts, she couldn’t distinguish one sensation from the memory of another. Warrington and Miranda, satisfaction, and joy. Her body delighted in it; it didn’t matter who delighted her.

  Alison slumped, spent and warm all over. She heard the rustle of Warrington’s cotton shirt, and saw the blindfold fall from her eyes. She watched in silent satisfaction as he reached up and freed her hands. She twisted her body and slumped into the cool leather of the back seat, pulling up her panties and righting her skirt. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, trying to slow her heart. Warrington leaned in and kissed her on the head.

  “Ask Miranda to get us a suite tomorrow night.”

  Chapter 3

  Ever since Warrington had persuaded Alison to let Miranda join them, the thought of the three of them together dominated her thoughts anytime she was not otherwise preoccupied. She would be in a sales meeting, and the image of Miranda’s face, close to her, whispering in her ear, would pop into her mind. She would be dealing with a hotel supplier, and she would see Miranda’s mane of long, thick blond hair floating over her belly – she could swear she could feel her warm breath on her naval – and Alison would have to catch herself, shake the image out of her head and refocus.

  Alison often questioned agreeing with Warrington to let it happen. She knew he’d caught her in a moment of weakness. Now, with a clear head, she was having mixed emotions about it. Warrington convincing her to participate after the car ride back from the Dominion Hotel was a little devious. Or was it calculating on his part? She couldn’t decide. Either way, how she felt now about it was not the same way she’d felt when she’d agreed to it.

  After all, Miranda was one of Warrington’s ex-lovers, and Warrington was Miranda’s first Dom. Alison couldn’t help but wonder whether a connection between the two still existed. She never forgot the time she first encountered the two of them. They were in the parking garage of the Broadstone Hotel, her hotel. As she arrived to work that day, she heard the echo of Miranda and Warrington making love on the hood of his car. She saw them, or more importantly, she saw how deeply Warrington brought Miranda to orgasm, and the delight Miranda showed as she returned the favor to Warrington.

  Even though Warrington and Alison were married, and they had a child together, occasionally when Alison saw the two together, either socially or professionally, there was a lingering thought that maybe, just maybe, Warrington might want Miranda back. Miranda, the wild, impetuously independent woman, setting aside his somewhat boring, softening, and reserved wife. Miranda was the so much the opposite of Alison. Quite honestly, Alison questioned why Warrington had left Miranda for her in the first place. Warrington confessed he was looking for something more stable, more settled, but some part of her suspected that Warrington knew Miranda was going in a different direction when they split. He may have said the words first, but Miranda was probably thinking it as well, just not willing, or able to end it. If this were the case, if Miranda did want Warrington back, wouldn’t this be the perfect way to get to him? What man wouldn’t want a little ‘wild and crazy’ in their life?

  Warrington presented the idea of the three of them being together as Miranda’s idea. Was he disguising that it was his idea? No, Alison immediately shook off the thought. Warrington was not that kind of man, nor had he ever given her that impression. Since they have been together, he had proven to be nothing other than loyal and faithful. He has been caring and loving to her, and their child. These thoughts of Warrington are nonsense, yet just so hard to completely dispel. However, Alison knew this is more her issue than anything else.

  Instinctively, Alison knew Miranda was driving this forward It made sense; the way Miranda had approached her outside the car while Alison was waiting for Warrington. Alison thought it was odd for Miranda to reach for her hand the way she did, to hold it and speak to her so gently, lovingly. That wasn’t the Miranda she knew, the cool, aloof individual who would just as soon leave a conversation as stay.

  Yet knowing now that it was Miranda who’d entered Warrington’s office, who’d placed her hand in between her thighs, on her ass, who’d touched her that way, in a way that was familiar but not. Sure Warrington – and other men before him for that matter – had touched her with their fingers and brought her to orgasm before, but not in this way. This was seemed different, more seductive, more sensual; just more.

  Maybe that’s why her shock at discovering someone else in the room was easily replaced intrigue and delight. Was it delight? Yes, Alison decided, it was delight. With Warrington holding her down, she’d delighted at the touch of another. The combination of Warrington’s strength and Miranda’s gentle touch causing her to squirm with pleasure was a sensation Alison couldn’t readily process at the time, although her body truly responded to it.

  Reluctantly, Alison concluded Warrington was right not to tell her what to expect at the time, to keep her in the dark – literally, because she couldn’t see for her hair falling over her eyes – to let her experience Miranda’s touch before fully knowing about it. This thought caused Alison to smile a little smile. Damn Warrington for knowing how she would react to another perso
n touching her, to Miranda touching her. He knew her so well. He knew she would warm to it, respond to it, enjoy it. He wouldn’t have done it otherwise. She knew he loved her too much to ever expose her to something she would not want. This was no different.

  Alison did enjoy Miranda’s touch. How could she deny it? She couldn’t deny it, she didn’t even try. She also couldn’t deny that part of her ecstasy in the car ride home, after seeing Miranda in the driveway, was Alison remembering the moment Miranda’s hand brought her to orgasm. The way Warrington was touching her was reminiscent of that moment of pleasure. Knowing it was Miranda only served to intensify the memory.

  To Alison’s surprise, the two moments of pleasure blurring into one was getting her aroused. She began to think how delicious it would be to have Warrington on one side of her, his strong, hard body pressed to her side, his erection rigid against her leg, and Miranda on the other, her large breast pressed against her side. Alison could smell the freshness of Miranda’s hair – It always smelled of roses, how did she do that? – imagining it falling over her face as Miranda leaned in to drag her tongue slowly, languidly across Alison’s nipple and tiny breast. Yes, Warrington was right. Alison wanted this. Alison knew this year’s Lover’s Ball was going to be different from any in the past.

  Over the years, the Lover’s Ball had grown to become the first social event of the year, the one that marked the beginning of the social calendar for the city. By Valentine’s Day, people clambered for a distraction, once again thinking about venturing out into public after the long-ago festivities of the new year, welcoming the chance to get out of the house, to see and be seen within their social set once again.

  Even though a ticket to the Lover’s Ball was difficult to come by, selling out each year, it was not an exclusive event for the city’s elite. It was a tradition for several tickets to be distributed among the various groups and organizations that represented all walks of life. The original organizers believed the Lover’s Ball didn’t need to be profitable, it just needed to break even. Enough tickets were sold to achieve this end, while the others were given away to those who would benefit from attending, or who simply deserved to be there. As steward of the hotel, Tony kept up the tradition. Respecting the tradition, Miranda did the same.