Meddling
Page 2
“Ohhhh…oh, Mick…” Aaron shuddered. It was almost too much, but Mick seemed to feel that and pulled away just in time. He’d seen the marks Mick had left on Jean, many times, but never experienced those sharp teeth himself.
“Still good?” Mick’s breath was hot in his ear, his voice the low gravelly growl he knew always made Jean melt. It seemed to have the same effect on Aaron.
Mick’s tongue slid around the curve of Aaron’s ear, teeth just barely grazing the skin there.
“Mmmm…yeahhhh…but, ah, I won’t last much longer if you keep that up.” Aaron shivered and bucked, arching to offer himself to Mick. That voice…he could definitely understand why it affected Jean so much, why he’d mentioned it on more than one occasion.
“Just one more.” Mick moved over, giving Aaron a matching hickey on the other side of his neck, again lessening the bite just as it became too much. His hands slid over Aaron’s body, hooking in his boxers and tugging them down as much as he could without moving.
“It’s a good thing you know what you’re doing, because I couldn’t lift a finger right now. I’m a puddle and all you’ve done is bite me.” Aaron grinned, arching his hips to help.
Mick laughed, kissing Aaron lightly as he undressed him, pausing to massage his broad chest and shoulders admiringly. “You want me to fuck you?” he murmured, breathing on the first hickey he’d left, his fingernails digging into the other man’s chest.
“Yeah…” Aaron shivered beneath the taller man’s wandering hands, gasping as Mick’s short, slightly ragged fingernails dug in. “Yeah, I do. I’ve got some lube…” He rolled to reach his stash, but his head hit the bottle Jean had left them, forgotten between the pillows. “Or, uh, I guess there’s this…” It took him a few tries to grab the bottle, then he offered it to Mick, aware that he was blushing again.
“That’ll do,” Mick poured a bit onto his fingers, sitting back and lifting Aaron’s legs. He slid a slick knuckle against Aaron’s hole. He took Aaron’s dick in his other hand, stroking slowly.
“Ohhhh, Mick…” Aaron laughed. “Want you.”
“I’m glad.” Mick pressed his fingertip inwards, groaning as Aaron’s body opened to him and he wiggled his finger farther in.
“I’m…ah…you’ve got me pretty raring to go…you can go faster.” Aaron squirmed a little, unable to look up at Mick while he spoke.
Mick looked down at him with an almost predatory stare. He slid in two more slick fingers, pressing deep into Aaron and curling his fingers to find that perfect spot. His hand had stilled on Aaron’s cock as he focused on opening him up.
“Any time now…” Aaron murmured, once he’d adjusted to all three fingers. His eyes were half-shut, and he was grinning dreamily up at Mick. He fought to keep still, to not buck himself out in Mick’s hand, fucking himself on the fingers filling him. He knew how much better a cock would feel, and he wanted to wait for that.
Mick drew his fingers out and wiped the lubey mess on the silk sheets with a sly grin. He slicked up his cock and pressed it to Aaron’s entrance. It didn’t take much pressure before he slid in deep, groaning as his hips hit the other man’s ass.
Aaron groaned in response, arching a little to take Mick as deeply as he could. “Fuck, it’s been too long. Don’t how long I’ll last.” He gave Mick an apologetic grin, eyes rolling back in his head as Mick hit a sweet spot deep inside him.
“It’s fine,” Mick gasped, rocking his hips slowly at first, then harder and faster as they both neared their peaks. He grabbed Aaron’s cock, stroking him quickly.
“Nhgh, Mick, I’m…!” Aaron threw himself down on Mick’s cock, bucking and arching in his grip as he rode out his orgasm.
Once Aaron started coming, Mick stopped stroking him, instead grabbing his hips harder and thrusting faster. Seconds after Aaron finished, Mick came.
“…wow,” Aaron gasped, after he’d come down and could speak again. “That was…ah… I hope you won’t think I’m too forward if I tell you I’d want do that again.”
“Me too,” Mick agreed, rolling off Aaron and staggering to the bathroom, still limp and feeling golden. He undid the ropes around Jean’s wrists.
Jean lunged at Mick, but he was stiff from being tied up and his ankles were still bound, so Mick was able to dodge easily.
Laughing, Mick wobbled his way back to the bed, curling up with Aaron. He trusted Jean would get himself out from there.
With his hands free, Jean quickly undid the gag before freeing his ankles and pulling out the earplugs. Part of him wanted to stay—not sulk, simply stay—in the bathroom, or quietly slip out into the night rather than face those two abominable wretches. But…knowing his lovers, they probably hadn’t touched the champagne, and it was very good. He wouldn’t want it to go to waste.
“You let him go?” Aaron asked when Mick returned, cuddling against Mick’s lean chest. “Are we about to die, or do we need a bigger bed?” In a louder voice he added, “That was amazing. Too bad Jean wasn’t around for it!”
“Not sure, but was starting to feel bad for the poor skinny thing, can’t be comfy lying down when you’re just bones,” Mick snickered, wrapping his arms around Aaron.
“Maybe next time he’ll deserve a blanket. Or maybe next time he’ll stop and think before he goes and does something so moronic.”
If it was possible for cigarette smoke to smell sullen, this particular cloud did. Jean lifted the champagne bottle from the bucket and poured himself a glass. “I hate both of you. Do you see this?” He turned, showing his derriere. “Take a good, long look, because neither of you are going to be seeing it again for some time.”
“Wanna cuddle?” Mick asked, clearly still hazy. “You can be in the middle.”
“I…” Jean did want to be in the middle, very much. He also wanted to throw his champagne on them—empty the whole bottle over their smug little faces. Instead, he sat on the edge of the bed, smoking quietly.
Mick motioned for Jean to come closer. “Sorry if it was too much, mate, but we needed to work it out without an audience.”
“T’es terrible,” he informed Mick. “Toi aussi,” he added, pointing at Aaron, but his expression had softened a fraction. “In any case, I still count this as a victory for myself.” He rubbed at a rope mark on his wrist. “I suppose you think yourselves very clever; that I deserved this.”
“Stop being a dummy and come here.” Aaron rolled onto his side, patting the narrow space between Mick and himself. “It’s a good thing both of you are so skinny, or we wouldn’t all fit.”
“Better start building a bigger bed,” Mick snickered.
Aaron laughed in response, beginning as a low, rumbling chuckle and building to a deep, full-bellied guffaw. “Seems that way.”
With great dignity and grace, especially on the silk sheets, Jean climbed over Mick and slid between his lovers. He positioned their arms and legs to his liking, settling between them with a happy sigh. “Do not think all is forgiven,” he cautioned. “My vengeance shall be—” he yawned, “—swift and terrible and you shall not see it coming.”
Mick was already nearly asleep, but he nodded and stroked Aaron’s arm, Jean tucked under and in between them.
“Bon. As long as we are clear.”
“Yep. You’re going do unspeakable things to us when we least expect it. Gotcha.” Aaron kissed Jean’s ear, then whispered, “Thanks. Little pest.”
Excerpt from Belladonna
Max is looking for the real BDSM deal. He complains to his friend Randy about the lack of kink in his life, so Randy gives him an address and tells him to go there before he gets too desperate. Max gives in and ventures to what he’s expecting to be a club. Instead, he finds a rough, blue-collar drinking establishment where he seems less than welcome. He’s rescued by Adam, a rough, no-nonsense top who shows him that BDSM is still alive and thriving.
***
“Well, Max, what are you willing to do?” He was giving me a choice, but he was still clearly in cont
rol.
I avoided the rookie mistake of saying anything you want, but only just. I forced myself to stop and think and not just blurt something or babble incoherently. “I, uh, well...” I glanced at the assortment of toys beside the bench and found a crop, similar to my favourite at home. I picked it up and offered it to him. “How would you like me?”
His eyes answered any way I can have you, but he said, “Strip for me,” not quite a question, not quite a command. The door was open behind us and I could have left, but I didn’t want to. He took the crop and idly rolled it between his fingers.
I slowly unzipped the fly on my jeans and tugged them down and off, laying them neatly aside. My plain dress shirt followed, until I was standing in my boxers, watching his face to see what he thought of me. My boner had gone down a little, thank goodness.
He seemed to like what he saw, and he made a little turn around gesture with his finger.
I gave a silly little bow and obliged, facing him again when I had finished.
He walked past me and patted the bench, inviting me to climb aboard and claiming it as his at the same time.
At the last moment I pulled my boxers off and added them to the pile, then hopped onto the bench and offered up my oh-so-eager ass with a shudder of greedy desire and the horror-movie fear that good BDSM gives me. I was in no real danger, of that I was sure.
He grabbed my ass, one cheek in each hand, and just rolled the muscle this way and that, spreading to reveal my opening, with my balls displayed between my thighs, then pushing everything together. He kneaded like a cat on a pillow until I sank forward on the bench, completely relaxed.
About the Author
Lee Fisher is the erotica pen name of T. Strange. Lee has been married to his Sir since 2009, exploring BDSM as a submissive masochist. Lee started writing erotic fanfiction over a decade ago, and now he’s thrilled to share his fantasies and wicked thoughts with you.
Also by Lee Fisher
Belladonna
Taken by Two Stepbrothers
Night Out
Meddling
Stepson's First Time
Kinky Biker Series
Boots & Leather
Lock & Key
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