by Donna Jay
“Stay where you are.” The toe of Brenda’s shoe stopped her. She didn’t kick her or put any weight behind it, but the command was like superglue pinning Julie in place.
“Isn’t that a beautiful sight?”
“It is. I love her backside,” Yvonne said, and that much was true. She’d told Julie often enough.
“She’s a naughty girl, isn’t she? Eating your pussy and not sharing with your guest.”
You can have some too.
“She’s very naughty. I think you should spank her.” Yvonne had never sounded surer of anything in her life.
Oh yes, please, please spank me. I’m so naughty and so fucking turned on right now.
“No, I don’t think so.”
Humiliation slammed into Julie. She could only imagine what she looked like with her arse in the air, head tucked under the table, while they were talking about her like a piece of meat that needed tenderising.
“I think you should do it,” Brenda said to Yvonne.
The embarrassment she felt moments before vanished, replaced by horny anticipation.
“What if she doesn’t want me to?”
Just do it.
“Do you think she’d still be on her hands and knees if she didn’t?”
“Good point.” Julie heard the smile in Yvonne’s voice. Footfalls moved away and then returned. “She likes this one.”
This what?
Thwack.
The unexpected blow made Julie jump. “Shit.” She arched her back like a cat.
Once again, Brenda’s foot connected with her toes. “The correct reply is thank you, Miss.”
“Oh, I like it,” Yvonne said, glee lighting up her voice. “Does she need a safeword? I’ve heard about those.”
The question made Julie smile. Yvonne was in her element and out of her league all at the same time, and it was sexy as fuck.
“That’s a great idea,” Brenda said sounding like a teacher proud of her student.
“Safeword?” Yvonne said, her voice short and sharp.
Despite all the times Julie had pictured herself submitting, she’d never thought of a safeword. In the confines of her mind, she didn’t need one.
A foot kicked hers. “Your lady asked you a question.”
Shit. Think, think, think. “Pelican.” She had no idea where that came from.
“Well done.” Brenda’s shoes clicked on the floor as she stepped aside. “She’s all yours.”
Julie braced herself for a blow that didn’t come. Instead, she felt a tug on the waistband of her jeans. When they didn’t budge, Yvonne issued an order. “Undo them.”
The thought of two women staring at her naked backside made Julie feel extraordinarily exposed and incredibly horny.
Imagining the feel of the smooth wooden spoon heating her backside like a fiery caress, propelled her into action.
Balancing her weight on one hand, Julie reached down, pleased she’d worn her jeans with a button-up fly and not a zip.
The tap-tap-tap of a shoe ticked like the minute hand on a clock. “You’ve got five seconds,” Brenda said.
Julie’s heart raced as she fumbled with the last button. “Done.”
Cool air hit her backside, followed by a warm caress. “You okay?” Yvonne’s voice.
“Yes, Miss.” The word came out without thought.
Brenda and Yvonne exchanged a few words but Julie couldn’t make out what they were saying. A few seconds later, she found out.
“You will call me Miss Vonn.” A crack landed across her arse, the unexpected blow making her cry out. She sucked in a breath, breathing through the sting.
Shortly after, a hand glided over the spot, soothing the burn.
“What do you say?” Yvonne asked.
Huh? Oh, yeah. “Thank you, Mistress.”
Whack.
“Pardon me?”
“Thank you, Miss Vonn?”
She closed her eyes, anticipating the next blow. When it landed, she moaned with pleasure. Heat spread throughout her body, firing nerve endings to life.
“Thank you, Miss Vonn. Please may I have another?”
“Yes, you may.” This time the wooden spoon left a lasting impression, figuratively and, she was quite sure, literally.
The image of a red stripe bisecting her butt cheeks in the most exquisite way ran through her mind as she revelled in the delicious throb. “Thank you,” she said on an exhale.
Something brushed Julie’s face and her eyes popped open. She laughed when Ginger head-butted her. “Get out, you big goof.” She pushed him away.
“Ginger!” Yvonne hollered. The back door opened and banged shut again.
“Oh, looks like someone’s been naughty, sneaking pussy under the table.” That was Brenda.
A hand tugged on Julie’s jeans bunched around her knees. She couldn’t be sure if it was Brenda or Yvonne and she didn’t care. A sharp yank made her back up. Once she was clear of the table, she attempted to stand.
“Uh-uh.” Brenda pushed on her shoulders. “Remember what I said earlier.”
Looking at Yvonne as if she might know the answer, Julie searched her brain. Yvonne just stared at her, a small smile curving her lips.
Casting her mind back to when they arrived home, Brenda’s words came back to her clear as day. You’d look better saying that on your knees.
“Yes, ma’am. I remember what you said.”
“Good girl. You may stand now.”
Her knees pinged as she stood. Hypnotised by Brenda’s penetrating gaze, she bit back a groan as blood flow returned. The only groans she wanted to murmur in her presence were those of pleasure.
“What do you think we should do with her?” Brenda asked Yvonne.
“I think you should kiss her.”
Those were six words Julie never thought she’d hear come out of her wife’s mouth, much less be willing to go along with. But here she was, wet and willing.
“Would you like that?” Brenda searched Julie’s eyes, and the respect Julie had for her grew ten-fold.
She’d been given permission by Yvonne, yet she still needed to be sure she had Julie’s consent.
“Please.” The word sounded like a plea. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yvonne nod her approval.
The kiss was fierce, demanding, and absurdly erotic. When Yvonne stepped behind her and hiked up her top, Julie almost climaxed on the spot. Brenda swallowed her moan and then broke the kiss.
With both of them sizing her up, vulnerability crept in. Subconsciously, Julie clasped her hands together in front of her, effectively covering her breasts.
“Problem?” Brenda quirked an eyebrow.
“No.” Julie stared at the floor.
“Eyes on mine.”
She obeyed. Yvonne watched on, a look of intrigue and uncertainty playing across her features.
“Let’s even things up.” Brenda pulled off her dress and stood before them in black nylon stay-ups, lacy bra, and matching panties. Her body was exquisite. Toned yet soft. Julie yearned to reach out and caress her, to run her hands over every contour.
Dragging her gaze off Brenda, she turned to Yvonne who had also stripped down to her underwear. Her cotton briefs hugged her hips and her underwire bra pushed her breasts up and out.
Compared to these two beauties, Julie’s breasts were barely more than pimples.
“Arms out,” Brenda instructed.
Doing as she was told, Julie raised her arms in front of her, up and out, until they were almost touching Brenda.
“Not like that.” She shook her head. “Out to the side.”
Pushing past her perceived shortfalls, she parted her arms, drawing them back like a curtain. And there she stood, arms wide open, aching to be touched.
Brenda squeezed a nipple between her thumb and forefinger. “These…are fucking gorgeous.” She tugged, hard.
Breathing through the pain, Julie exhaled slowly. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
Brenda turned to Yvonne, unhooke
d her bra, and cupped her heavy breasts. “So are these.” She took a nipple into her mouth and a collective groan bounced off the kitchen walls.
Getting to see Yvonne close her eyes and tip her head back in bliss while having attention lavished on her breasts was the sexiest thing Julie had ever witnessed.
Julie couldn’t drag her gaze off them. She watched Brenda pay the same attention to Yvonne’s other breast before she turned back to her.
“Never, ever, hide who you are.” She looked pointedly at Julie’s small breasts. “Never wish for more or less than you were given. Embrace what you have.”
She lowered her panties and Julie’s eyes landed on an angry red scar running along the top of her pubic mound.
A gasp tore from Yvonne, hand flying to her mouth.
“Does that repulse you?”
“No.” Yvonne shook her head vehemently.
“Good. I used to hide it behind a full bush. Now, I wear it like a badge. Without it, my son wouldn’t be alive.”
The imperfection made her all the more beautiful in Julie’s eyes.
With a snap of Brenda’s fingers, the atmosphere went from downcast to upbeat. “Arms out.”
This time, Julie didn’t hesitate. She opened her arms, spreading them as wide as she could. Embracing her body and revelling in the proud smile Yvonne gave her.
Like time being rewound, Brenda grabbed a nipple and tugged, sharply.
“Ah,” Julie cried out.
“You like that?” She did it again, pinching harder.
Jaw clenched, Julie hissed out a breath. The pain was fierce and fast, followed closely by a rush of heat. Her nipples ached, and hot pressure built behind her clit.
“Yes, Ma’am. I like that.”
Brenda took a step back, nodding to Yvonne. The wooden spoon she’d used on her backside materialised in her hand.
The memory of the first time Yvonne had used it on her bought a smile to her lips. The blow she delivered wiped it clean off her face.
“Were you licking pussy under the table without permission?”
Julie hadn’t exactly licked Ginger, but she was too horny to argue. “Yes, Miss Vonn.”
Another whack.
She closed her eyes, breathing through the delicious ache warming her backside and spreading to her centre.
“Are you sorry?”
“Yes, Miss Vonn.” She wasn’t really, but she wasn’t game enough to say no either. A playful spanking was one thing, but being spanked until it was too painful to sit wasn’t her idea of fun.
“How do you think she should make it up to us?” Brenda asked Yvonne.
“She should have to eat your pussy.”
Gobsmacked, Julie stared open-mouthed at Yvonne. “Really?”
“Unless you’d rather not.” Yvonne took a sip of wine and Julie didn’t stop her. She was far from drunk but her inhibitions were deliciously lowered.
“The only word I want to hear come out of your mouth is Pelican.” Brenda gave her a stern look, lips pursed, arms folded across her chest. “Understood?”
Desperate to please, Julie nodded vigorously. “Yes, Ma’am.”
Relaxing her posture, Brenda turned back to Yvonne. “Think big.” She swept her arms in a circle.
Yvonne’s brow furrowed. She was stumped. So was Julie. The anticipation was killing her. She would give anything to know what was running through Brenda’s mind.
“What’s better than one pussy?”
Yvonne’s face lit up like a light bulb. “Two.”
“Bingo.”
She turned to Julie. “Clear the table.”
It took only seconds to stack three plates and tossed them in the sink.
“Permission to move the candles,” Julie asked. If one tipped over the tablecloth could catch fire, or worse someone could get burnt.
“You may.” Brenda gave her a short, sharp nod and turned back to Yvonne. “Strip and recline.”
Julie’s heart kicked up a notch. She silently pleaded with Yvonne to go through with it.
This would be a huge step for them as a couple, let alone as a threesome. She’d tried to get Yvonne to have lunchtime sex on the table and she’d always laughed her off.
A hint of uncertainty flashed in Yvonne’s eyes before she squared her shoulders.
That a girl.
“Will you join me?” she asked Brenda as her underwear hit the floor.
“It would be my honour.”
Brenda’s bra landed on top of her little black dress. Fingers entwined, they reclined diagonally across the table.
The smorgasbord spread before her was a sight Julie would cherish forever. Her mouth watered as she imagined dining on the exquisite feast.
Her gaze flicked between the V of their thighs, from Yvonne’s neatly trimmed bush to Brenda’s mound, completely devoid of hair. She didn’t know who to taste first.
Should she start with what was familiar or go for something new? The decision was taken out of her hands.
“Guests first.” Yvonne cupped the back of Julie’s head and guided her between Brenda’s legs.
Her scent was intoxicating, musky like Yvonne yet different somehow. When she ran her tongue along the seam of Brenda’s smooth, bare lips, it was clear she waxed rather than shaved. There wasn’t the barest hint of stubble, just slippery smooth goodness.
Using the tip of her tongue, Julie parted her outer lips, ecstatic when Brenda groaned her appreciation.
“Is that good?” Yvonne asked, like a kid waiting their turn.
In response, Brenda pulled Yvonne onto her side and kissed her, hard. Her hand threaded through Yvonne’s hair, pulling her close.
Their lips met and Julie pushed to her feet. There was only one word to describe the gorgeous women before her in a heated lip lock.
“Beautiful,” she said softly.
“So are you, but you forget your place,” Yvonne said, the sparkle in her eyes igniting Julie’s blood. “On your knees.”
A groan escaped her before she could stop it. Kneeling on the hard, cold floor, with two women demanding her attention was exquisite torture.
She glanced through the archway to the living room. “May I get a cushion?”
“Yes,” Yvonne said at the same time as Brenda said no.
They both looked to her for guidance. Did she expect Julie to put up with whatever discomfort was thrown her way unless she used her safeword?
“There’s a pile of clothes next to you, use them.”
Gratitude surged through Julie. “Thank you, Ma’am.”
Ignoring her, Brenda turned to Yvonne. “Sorry to override your decision, but sometimes you have to improvise.”
“Got it, improvise.” Yvonne pointed a finger at Julie. “Don’t you dare poke a hole through my new dress with your bony knees, understood?”
She looked at Brenda as if to say ‘did I do good?’ and Brenda nodded her approval.
Smiling on the inside, Julie folded her jeans, placed her shirt on top, and then knelt on both, hands clasped in front of her. “Understood, Miss Vonn.”
“Good, now eat my...my…”
“Eat her cunt.” The emphasis Brenda put on a word Julie normally detested sent an arrow of lust straight between her legs.
“Yes, that.” Yvonne nodded sharply, wavy hair bouncing around her shoulders.
Eager to do her bidding, Julie moved between Yvonne’s legs. Before her tongue made contact, Brenda shook her head. “No you don’t. You forget there are two of us.”
Just as she’d done earlier, Brenda reclined on the table, legs spread. She pulled Yvonne on top of her, and Yvonne straddled her thighs curling her feet under Brenda’s. And there they lay, like a two-tier cake begging to be devoured.
The slight gap between their bodies gave Julie a bird’s eye view of their breasts mashed together. When Yvonne lowered herself fully, Julie wanted to cry, until her sight landed on a much more tantalising sight.
Brenda raised her head, her gaze travelling al
ong the slope of Yvonne’s back before landing on Julie. “What are you waiting for?”
Once again, Julie pondered where to start. The top layer was familiar, but the bottom tier looked just as inviting. The flickering candle cast shadows over their bodies as she inched closer.
She breathed deeply, inhaling the heady scent of their combined arousal. Unable to decide where to start, she made a long, slow sweep of her tongue, from hole to clit, clit to hole, and all the way back down again.
A collective gasp bounced off the walls. Basking in the taste of two women, Julie toyed with the flesh of Yvonne’s labia, sucking and releasing before swirling her tongue around her clit. Then she dipped lower, paying the same attention to Brenda.
“Oooh, she’s good with her mouth, isn’t she?” Brenda said, dragging her hand through Yvonne’s hair.
“She…she is.” Yvonne’s voice was breathy.
Julie instinctively licked her way back up to familiar territory. The table creaked at the same time as she heard Brenda tell Yvonne to lift her hips. Yvonne complied and Brenda’s hand snaked between their bodies.
The sight of her stroking Yvonne’s clit sent Julie’s libido through the roof. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
Brenda craned her neck, peering at Julie around the side of Yvonne’s body plastered to hers. “Do not speak again until your wife is crying out in ecstasy.”
That, Julie could do. She shuffled closer, dragging the folded up clothes with her until she was close enough to sit back on her haunches. She ran a finger over Yvonne’s slick folds.
She was wet and ready, gliding easily beneath her fingertips. Julie pushed inside, curling two fingers against her walls.
Her hand bumped against Brenda’s, and the reality that someone else was pleasuring her wife sent an unexpected tremor through Julie. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a mini-orgasm, if ever, without so much as a touch.
Concentrating on the feast before her, she worked her mouth and fingers with vigour, Brenda matching her rhythm.
The table creaked as Yvonne squirmed and bucked atop Brenda. “Oh, god. Oh, yes, yes, yes…”
“Come for us,” Brenda said softly, her sultry voice making Julie’s nipples so hard they hurt.
With a few more strokes, a guttural moan tore from Yvonne. Her inner walls contracted, gripping Julie’s fingers with an intensity that robbed her of breath.