“I must get a snap of this,” she said, and I heard the camera on her cell phone go off.
I wanted to object, but I knew it would look hot. I imagined her masturbating later to the sight of the dildo in my mouth, and I desperately wanted to fuel her fantasies.
She pulled the strap-on out of my puckered lips with a pop and moved until the stiff and rubbery head was pressed against my asshole. It slowly, inexorably slid inside me while she encouraged me with little suggestions.
“Just relax, you know you want it up there,” she said. And I did, in a way that was a little scary and raw to me. Of course, the reality was that I could do nothing to stop it, tied up and exposed as I was. That scared the hell out of me and excited me in equal measure.
Soon, she was up to the hilt, and her hips were pressed to me.
“You took it all. Good cock,” she said.
She started sliding in and out then, at first slowly, but then with more enthusiasm as she got used to doing it. I moaned in pleasure, unable to stop myself. I feared her slap, but she told me to let go, to give in to the sensation.
“I fucking love you, Jen,” I cried out. There it was. I’d said it. I’d never said it to her before. We both froze, the words hanging in the air. Then she slammed into me, hard, and I gasped.
“I fucking love you, Kevin,” she said, renewing her pace.
I wanted to kiss her, hold her in my arms. I’d imagined telling her I loved her before, and it had always involved candles and wine and dinner, never her fucking my ass with me tied up and loving it.
“You can come now, cock,” she said, slipping as smoothly back into character as she had slipped that hardness into my ass. To emphasize her point, she stroked my cock as she fucked me. That was it. Cock ring be damned, I was a goner.
I came as hard as I’ve ever come. I could feel it landing on my face and chest as spasm after spasm rocked my body. I felt quick fingers at my lips and realized she was scooping up my own come and putting it in my mouth. I swallowed as she asked, that extra bit of kinkiness making my orgasm last just that much longer. Then, spent and exhausted (in a good way, this time), I lay there and panted, realizing only then that she’d come when I did, and was still in the aftershocks of it all.
It took a few moments and then she gingerly slid the strap-on out of my ass and untied my legs. I stretched and flexed them while she uncuffed me. Finally, she pulled the blindfold off and shielded my eyes while I got used to the light. She was a sweaty, beautiful mess, and I loved her, in that moment, more than I had ever loved anyone before in my life.
I suddenly felt vulnerable and shy and exposed, as I started to process all we’d done. She’d tied me up and dominated me and slapped me and fucked my ass and fed me my own come, and I’d loved every moment of it. I couldn’t hide from that, not after tonight. She snuggled up to me, with my arms finally able to hold her in return, and I saw the look of love and acceptance on her face. I felt calm and at peace with myself in a way I don’t think I’ve felt in years.
This was the night I finally woke up and realized that there are no downsides to dating a kinky girl, not when you’re a kinky guy.
APPLE BLOSSOMS
Emerald
There they are,” I said to Brooke, who pulled the straw from her mouth and waved at the group coming in the door. Our friend Scott waved back, and we alerted the staff and made our way from the bar to the rectangular table reserved for our group of eight. “Happy birthday, Bethany,” I said to the guest of honor and Scott’s wife, giving her a hug as we reached the table. Brooke echoed the sentiment, and there was a general shuffling of chairs as seven people discerned where to sit and placed their belongings accordingly.
“Courtney called and said she’s on her way,” Scott said to the table at large as Bethany seated herself at one end of it. “And Brooke and Ashley, I’d like you to meet Brad, one of Bethany’s and my friends from our coed softball league. Brad, this is Brooke and Ashley.” There was a hint of severity in the look Scott shot his friend as Brooke and I stepped forward to shake his hand.
Brad appraised us with barely disguised enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you,” he said, giving us both a once-over as he sat down across from the chair Brooke dropped into. As soon as I was seated, he said, “So, how long have you two been together?”
“About five years.”
“Five years. Huh.” Brad sat back in his chair. Scott had obviously told him about us, though I didn’t know how much he’d said. I found out when Brad continued.
“So do you go both ways then, or just girls?” He addressed the question to both of us, and immediately I knew how to account for the look Scott had given him during the introductions.
“Is that a common icebreaker question of yours?” Brooke asked, her smile sedate.
“I just find you both hot,” Brad responded as though that somehow constituted an answer. “I’d do both of you in a heartbeat, so I was just wondering what the chances were of my getting to join you in a threesome tonight.” He winked, and I had little doubt the charm that emanated from his blue eyes had historically served him well in tempering a characteristic audacity.
“How interesting that you seem to assume that our relationship is nonmonogamous, and also that there’s nothing inappropriate about intimating to both of us, in each other’s presence, that you want to fuck her respective partner. Do you usually tell people you want to fuck them when their partner is sitting right there?” Brooke’s tone was mild, and I knew she wasn’t speaking antagonistically but rather capitalizing on an opportunity to enlighten.
Brad looked confused, then considered for a moment. He shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Sorry.”
I smiled, nudging Brooke’s foot affectionately under the table. Brad’s comment wasn’t anything we hadn’t heard the likes of before, but that didn’t inoculate me from finding it annoying. One of the many things Brooke and I had in common was a keen interest in the demolition of sexual and gender stereotypes, superficial assumptions about lesbian relationships being high on the list.
It happened that Brooke and I did not define our partnership as strictly monogamous, though our respective play beyond the relationship had tapered considerably in the last few years. While both our multi-partnered and kinky proclivities had flared with gusto during the first couple years we were together, for the past few such outside interaction had maintained a contented trickle. Our kinky play was now practiced almost solely between the two of us, and as often as not, our sex was vanilla.
But that was all by conscious and considered choice, and the inclination, desire and experience were still there for both of us if the opportunity arose. When Brooke caught my eye, there was a gleam in hers that I recognized. I held back a smile. The proposal I saw in them was something we hadn’t done in a while, probably a couple years if I remembered correctly. But that gleam told me she felt the opportunity had arisen.
With my look back, I answered.
Brooke smiled and turned back to Brad. “As it happens, the two of us have occasionally engaged in such a configuration. But you may not feel comfortable with the kind of things Ashley and I have been known to incorporate into our sex life.”
“Like what?” He was immediately interested again.
“Some things some people might consider a little rough. Bondage. Strap-ons.”
“Well, I guess I’m not surprised you use strap-ons,” he said with a lopsided grin, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Brad, Brad, Brad, I thought. You could really use a little bit of a wake-up call—as well as perhaps a crash course in sensitivity.
Brooke was wearing a barely hidden smirk that anyone who knew her would recognize. Brad, of course, didn’t know her, so his obliviousness continued as she spoke again. I sat with my glass in my hand, content, as was not uncommon, to let her do most of the talking. Despite the kinky and multi-partnered activities in my past, both with Brooke and before I met her, in both social and sexual settings I tended to be somewhat shy. Brooke and I
switched, and I was fully capable of dominating her on occasion, but around groups and whenever more than the two of us had been involved, I was usually content to let Brooke lead the way.
“So we’d want anyone who joined us to be interested in those things, too,” Brooke continued.
“Great!” Brad practically drooled into his beer, and I almost laughed out loud.
“You’re comfortable with that kind of thing?”
“Yeah, whatever you want!”
Brooke’s smile held just enough of an edge to let anyone listening know she was serious. “Don’t you think you might want to be careful giving someone you don’t even know that kind of carte blanche in a sexual setting?”
For the first time, Brad blushed, and I wondered what was really going on inside his head. I suspected what Brooke had in mind, and I suspected as well that Brad might not be as thrilled as he anticipated were he to be aware of it.
With that blush, for some reason, I wondered if I was wrong.
Scott turned our way then from the conversation he’d been having with the other half of the table. “And what’s going on down here?” he asked with a swig of his drink, his gaze flitting from Brad to me to Brooke. Instantly he registered Brooke’s expression, and his eyes went back to Brad. I saw the wariness in them as he let the question dangle, this visual assessment seeming to have increased his interest in the answer.
“Just getting to know each other,” I said with a wink.
“I see. Can I get anyone another drink?” Scott stood up and glanced down at us as Brad and Brooke both relayed a request. I thanked him with a shake of my head, and he turned and headed for the bar.
Brooke engaged in answering a question from our friend Peggi, who was sitting on the other side of her, and Brad turned to respond to a comment from Bethany. Our interrupted conversation slid away like a silk scarf slipping from a table, and I sat back and sipped my drink. Scott returned and handed one glass to Brad and set another on the table before sliding a chair down to sit by me.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“Fine.” I grinned at him.
“Is Brad acting like an ass?” The question made me laugh out loud, and Scott continued. “I mentioned you guys to him ahead of time specifically to ask him to not act like an idiot, as I’ve certainly seen him do. Seriously, has he said anything truly offensive? He’s a good guy—just needs a little education about some things. But I’ll certainly get him out of here if it’s a problem.”
I waved my hand dismissively. “No, it’s no big deal. Brooke handled it.”
Scott chuckled. “I don’t doubt it,” he said as he stood up. “All right, I just wanted to say hi.” I waved as he squeezed between the chairs back to his seat at the other end of the table.
When the bill had been paid and the party started to break up, Brooke kissed my cheek as we stood to say our good-byes. Catching Brad staring, she looked directly at him and said, “Would you like to come with us, Brad?”
“Hell, yeah.” Brad almost dropped his glass in his rush to set it down. He stood up, a cocksure demeanor indicating that perhaps he really had assumed the invitation would be forthcoming all along. I shook my head to myself.
“You’re ready to join in however we ask? Because I can assure you, Brad, you won’t just be watching.” Brooke’s smile was calm, her gaze on Brad steady.
“Of course I want to join in.” He looked as if she’d asked if he’d be willing to win the lottery, and I spoke up.
“Even if what we do seems a little…unorthodox?”
He grinned at me, his blue eyes sparkling as he said, “You bet, sweetheart. I’d love the chance to get into whatever you two have going on.”
I saw Brooke’s smile widen. She gave him a nod, and I turned and followed as she led the way to the door.
Brad may not have bargained for the position he found himself in two hours later in our spare bedroom, but I knew Brooke felt the same way I did: the second he wasn’t enjoying it, it wouldn’t be happening.
Once away from the scene at the restaurant, Brad appeared a little nervous, as well as unsure. Despite his enthusiasm, I didn’t doubt that he had no idea what to do after he followed us into the entryway of our home. Of course, even if he had, what I knew Brooke had in mind would likely have looked considerably different from what he expected.
After going over safewords and the talk about everything being consensual, Brad began to resume the boldness we had observed at the table.
“Great,” he said as he sat back against the living room couch with a grin. “So you two are just going to go at it then, and I’ll join in as soon as I can’t stand it anymore and finish the job?” He gave me a wink, and I smiled back at him.
Before Brooke could speak, I did it for her: “I don’t think that was quite the way we were seeing it.”
He raised his eyebrows, the smile still in place, and said, “Well, let me in on the secret, then, ladies. How do you picture this going down?”
Brooke smiled as she stood up. “I’m glad you asked, Brad. Follow me, please.”
She led the way into the spare bedroom, flicking on the low lamp on the bedside table. In the middle of the room was a spanking bench covered in burgundy leather padding. She pulled a coil of silver rope from the chest at the foot of the bed.
In the low light, Brad did indeed looked a bit taken aback. “Wow. So which one of you gets tied up?” he asked, looking at the two of us.
Brooke chuckled softly. “Neither.”
Confusion flickered over Brad’s face for an instant before understanding replaced it, and for the first time, he looked unabashedly surprised. There was silence in the room for several seconds.
“What happens then?” Brad’s voice was thick.
“We’ll show you,” Brooke said, lifting a pair of harnesses from the chest before handing me my realistic-style dildo from it. Brad watched as she retrieved her own jet-black silicone toy and closed the chest. “I’ll give you a hint, though: These strap-ons may not be put to quite the use you were envisioning during our earlier conversation.”
Brad’s eyes widened, and I knew this was the moment of truth: the make or break time when he agreed or not, when he had the absolute option to stop this train before it started and walk right back out the door. The heat in the room seemed to elevate as we watched him. I truly had no idea what he would choose.
When he moved forward, his eyes on the bench, I suddenly remembered his blush at the restaurant. The memory checked the surprise I felt as he ran his fingers over the burgundy padding and slowly began to take off his shoes.
Brooke rested a hand now on the small of Brad’s back as she positioned the black dildo between his buttocks. She rubbed it back and forth against his opening, the liberally applied lube further smearing along his skin.
It was I who was watching, though not for long. I stood in front of Brad, who was draped over and bound to the bench in the center of the room. I was almost naked, wearing only my black demi bra and a harness to which the silicone dildo Brooke had handed me was secured.
Brooke ran her fingers over Brad’s hips, waiting, among other things, for his muscles to relax. I watched as she spoke to him in soft tones, holding the dildo firm against his opening. Her chest was flushed, her skin dewy beneath the vinyl harness I hadn’t seen her wear for a while.
She looked up and met my eyes. I caught my breath as desire sizzled through me.
Knowing she was waiting for me, I moved forward, as though to get closer to her, though it was Brad’s mouth I was approaching. I maintained eye contact with my girlfriend until I felt the heat from Brad’s breath against my thighs. Still looking at her, I set my hand on his head. His blond hair was smooth beneath my fingers.
With a little grin, Brooke broke eye contact and looked down at the back of Brad’s head. I dropped my eyes to where he looked up at me. His gaze was wary, but beneath the humility I saw a hunger. It was that hunger—the part beneath the façade, beneath what he display
ed regularly and perhaps even consciously knew was there—that I looked back at as I called it forth silently, waiting as it overtook the last bit of hesitation in his eyes. Whether this was something he would have thought he’d wanted, whether he would want it in an hour, or next week, or ever again under any circumstances besides those that had coalesced into this moment, I didn’t know. I’d guess he didn’t, either.
But the look in his eyes as he looked up at me said he wanted it now. And that was all I needed.
I looked up at Brooke and nodded. She set a hand on Brad’s body and eased the black dildo into him. A sound came from his throat, and she pushed in farther at the same measured pace before withdrawing just as slowly. I watched as she continued to penetrate him slowly, waiting for him to get used to the sensation, for them both to grow comfortable with the rhythm. Heat simmered inside me as I watched the smooth motion of Brooke’s strong hips.
I tightened my grip on Brad’s soft hair as I looked back down at him. With my other hand, I grasped the silicone cock strapped to my body and touched it to his lips. They opened easily, and I groaned as though there really were nerve endings in the toy connected to me as I slid it into his mouth. My pussy tingled, arousal gathering in my clit as I pulled my hips back and slid them forward again slowly. Like Brooke, I was finding the rhythm, and while fucking his mouth certainly didn’t require the same delicacy as fucking his ass, I was pretty sure he wasn’t used to this and didn’t want to overwhelm him.
Brooke sped up her pace, observing Brad’s muscles closely. I knew she was watching for any tension, anything that would indicate that he wasn’t enjoying himself or that would cause discomfort as he took what she was giving him.
“Are you enjoying yourself, Brad?” she asked as she smacked his ass. “Are we making all your fantasies come true?” Her face had broken a sweat, her stylishly cropped blonde hair damp around her ears. The vision of her confident handling of Brad as well as her own obvious arousal had my pussy nearly dripping.
Between the Cheeks Page 3