Judith nearly wilted with relief. Michael glared at her boss, who stepped away warily. “Michael!” she blurted out with relief and threw her arms around his neck.
He wrapped a steadying arm around her waist and watched Anderson. “And who’s this?” He asked.
“Michael, this is my boss, Mr Anderson.”
“Charmed.” Michael turned to Judith. “Ready to go?”
“Oh, yes,” she said and a moment later she hesitated. Motor bike.
“Here,” he said, removing his own helmet and lowering it over her head. “I don’t have another helmet, but we’ll wait at my office. We’ll be fine for this short distance.” He helped her to climb on, then once her arms were securely wrapped around his waist, he pulled away slowly.
~*~
Chapter 15
Damn, but Michael loved this feeling. He’d been amazed when Judith texted him, and when he’d heard that her keys were locked in the car, his protective instincts had jangled to full alert. It wasn’t until he was half-way across the parking lot that he realized that he’d taken the bike to work that morning, not his car, and he only had one helmet.
If need be, he’d stand and wait with her in the parking lot, but when he saw that asshole crowding her against the car, he knew he just needed to get her away from there. Conflicting instincts about motorcycle safety and protecting against assholes battled within him, but in the end he compromised by taking her the short distance back to his office instead.
Of course, when her arms tightened around his waist in response to the bike moving, he felt a rush of satisfaction. He liked it. He liked it a lot.
He’d travelled the three blocks back to his office slowly and when he parked his bike in his parking space back at the practice, he flipped the kick-stand down. The late shift at his practice closed at seven in the evenings, so only fifteen minutes left on the clock. Only three doctors were still on duty, and perhaps eight cars were still parked in front of the building.
Judith climbed off the bike awkwardly and shimmied her pencil skirt back down her thighs before handing his helmet back.
Careful to maintain his balance when he swung his leg over his bike, he dismounted and led her to his office. Wouldn’t do to fall flat on my face in front of the lady, now would it? “Have you phoned Tristan yet?”
“I did, but he thinks you’re bringing me home.” Judith said.
“I know I offered, but I only realized afterward that I’m here with my bike and not my car. Five minutes with only one helmet is fine, but I didn’t want to take a chance on our safety all the way home. Motorbike accidents can be brutal; I should know.” He sat down at his desk and watched as Judith scrolled to Tristan’s number and dialled.
“I understand,” Judith said, then focused on the wall once the call connected. Michael listened as she explained the situation to Tristan, outlining the change of plans.
“Thank you so much,” Judith said once she’d hung up. “I’m so sorry to put you out.”
“Come here,” Michael said. He pushed away from his desk and when she got close, he pulled her onto his lap. “I’m your Dom. I want you to tell me when you have a problem. I want to fix it. Please don’t think twice about asking me for help in the future.”
Judith sat in his embrace and stared up into his eyes. She placed one hand on his cheek, and feeling the pull of her eyes on his, he leaned down to claim her mouth. The little subbie melted in his embrace, softening to his kiss. His hand strayed to the hem of her blouse, and slithered up under the silky material to cup her breast and pinch the nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Judith broke away from the kiss and moaned. “Do you want to see how heroes are rewarded?” She asked. Before he could formulate an answer, she slid off his lap to her knees under his desk, and reached for his belt.
“What are you doing?” Michael asked.
A flash of insecurity crossed her expression. “Don’t you want a blowjob?” she asked.
“Oh, Princess, of course I do.”
“Then shut up, sir,” she dragged the slider down the zipper and reached for his cock. Michael slid further down on the chair to give her more room to work with.
Her mouth was heaven. Warm and slick, with the perfect amount of suction, she bobbed her head up and down in his lap, her hands adding a twist in counterpoint to her mouth. In her business smart outfit, her hair done up in a bun, kneeling between his knees, she was every naughty secretary fantasy of his come to life.
He had an overwhelming desire to mess up that perfect bun, and taking control, he grabbed that knot of hair at the nape of her neck and held her head steady while he thrust into her mouth. One of her hairpins was sharp in his palm, and the sensation added to his arousal. She redoubled her efforts at this show of enthusiasm, and before long, he came down her throat in hard pulses.
He glanced down at his submissive kneeling between his feet, and was met by a satisfied smirk. Maintaining eye contact with him, she caught a small smear of cum on the edge of her lip with her little finger and stuck that finger in her mouth, making his cock twitch one last time.
He welcomed her back to sit on his lap, and he noted with satisfaction that her bun, previously perfect, was now coming loose from its pins.
You haven’t done anything wrong, he reasoned with himself. You’re in a committed triad. You negotiated for this; they consented, even if Tristan is not here now, he knew this was a possibility. You’re not really doing this behind Tristan’s back.
“You okay?” Judith asked.
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
I hope so.
~*~
Dinner was delicious, as usual. Was there anything Michael couldn’t do?
Tristan had brought work home with him again for the weekend. He had an ISAT exam to set for that Monday. The subject matter? Geography, or more specifically, coastal geology. Groan…
God, I need a beating.
“That was delicious,” Judith said with a satisfied sigh.
“You’re welcome,” Michael looked pleased.
And by the looks Judith and Michael are giving each other, now is a good time to make myself scarce.
Tristan rose from the table. “Yes, dinner was delicious, as usual,” he said. “But if you’ll excuse me, my ISAT exam paper is not going to set itself.
“You won’t join us?” Judith asked.
“The sooner I finish this, the sooner I can enjoy the rest of the weekend,” Tristan assured her, casting a glance in Michael’s direction.
“Well, if you’re sure,” she said.
“Positive,” he headed for the stairs.
~*~
“So, you ready for dessert?” Judith asked brightly. She turned away from the stairs and smiled brightly, but Michael wasn’t fooled.
She’s disappointed.
Michael had to admit, he was disappointed too. He knew Tristan didn’t want him that way, but Michael’s unruly heart still wanted what he couldn’t have. Well, time to concentrate on the sub he could have.
He smiled brightly in return. “Sure.”
“Good,” she rose, gathering dirty plates. “You can make coffee, and I’ll cut the milk tart.”
He opened a cabinet and handed her three plates and cake forks, started the coffee machine, then watched her as she cut the dessert. When she was done, Judith headed for the stairs carrying a plate and a mug, but Michael stopped her. “No, take ours to the den. I’ll take Tristan his.”
She paused and eyed him warily. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” he smiled. “I’ll go check he doesn’t need anything else. Go on – I’ll be right there.”
“Okay,” Judith said, changing course and heading for the den.
Michael waited until she was out of sight before he headed for the stairs. He hated climbing stairs, especially when he didn’t have a hand free to grip the bannister, but he’d manage.
Step by arduous step, he climbed the stairs, making double-sure where he placed his feet before he shifted his weight
to his bad side. He’d lost count of how many times he’d fallen down the stairs since The Accident, but he hadn’t given up. Stubbornness had prevented him from moving his bedroom downstairs.
When he finally reached his study, he cleared his throat as he entered. Tristan had spread out his text books and a lever-arch file of notes, and was tapping away on his laptop.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Michael remarked. Tristan looked up and removed his specs, placing them on the table, then made space for Michael to put down the coffee and dessert.
“Only for computer work,” Tristan replied, “especially when I’m working late at night.”
“They look good on you.” Michael retreated to the door and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe. “You’re welcome to join us in the dungeon,” Michael said quietly.
Tristan stilled and kept his eyes on the screen. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Thanks, but I’ve got a lot of work to cover tonight.” He swallowed. “Have fun.”
Michael was silent a long moment, assessing. “You realize that Judith and I will probably have sex tonight.”
Tristan swallowed. “I know.” Michael didn’t say anything else, just waited. “I’d rather not see.”
“See me, or see Judith having sex with me?”
“Both.”
“Look, if you can’t do this, perhaps we should rather not –”
“No,” Tristan said. “I’ll be fine. It’s something to get used to, but it’s what Judith wants. I want her to be happy.”
“There are two people in your marriage,” Michael remarked. “Your feelings on this matter too.”
“Look, Judith is satisfied. I certainly can’t say our sex life has suffered for your presence in it; we have more sex now than ever. So go, enjoy yourself with my blessing. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Tristan pulled one of the textbooks closer and turned the page. It was a dismissal, and taking the cue, Michael left Tristan alone in the study.
Judith was curled up on the couch in the den, her coffee mug cradled between her hands. She looked up at his arrival, and he noted her delight at his presence. “He says thank you for the dessert,” Michael said lightly.
“These extra periods he has to teach Geography is stressing him out,” Judith said as Michael lowered himself to the couch. “This is the first time he’s teaching it. He has to make notes and prepare lectures from scratch, whereas with Biology he’s been teaching it for years, and can usually draw from his archive of teaching resources.”
Michael sliced the corner off his milk tart with the edge of his fork and popped it in his mouth. It was creamy and sweet, and the vanilla and cinnamon dissolved on his tongue. “This is delicious,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “It’s an old family recipe, and was always an old standby for those nine PM ‘oh dear, I forgot tomorrow is bake sale’ panics when I was a child. We usually already have all the ingredients in the pantry.”
“Well, it’s delicious,” he repeated and reclined more comfortably on the couch.
“I’m a little nervous,” she admitted. She speared a bite of her dessert, not meeting his eyes.
“No need to be,” Michael said. “I assure you that nothing will happen that you don’t want to happen.”
She looked up at him. “You’re right,” she said, scooping up the last bite of her dessert with her fork. “We’re going to have a great time.”
~*~
Judith didn’t know what to expect.
Michael had disappeared down the stairs to the basement, leaving Judith with the instruction to undress and join him in ten minutes. So Judith cleared away their empty plates and coffee mugs, rinsing them and stacking them in the dishwasher.
She went to the bathroom to relieve herself in preparation for what Michael may have planned, and when she was washing her hands, her reflection in the mirror caught her eye. She grabbed the edge of the basin and stared at her image in the looking glass.
I’m about to commit adultery.
With Tristan’s permission, but still… adultery; there was no turning back after this.
She was tempted to run up the stairs and ask Tristan if he really was sure. He seemed off; was he having second thoughts? But no, she wouldn’t do that.
Michael was waiting.
She switched off the bathroom light and headed for the den. She wished Tristan was there, but she disrobed alone, and piece by piece, she folded her clothes neatly and placed them in a stack on the couch. She tucked her underwear under the top folded garment, and taking a deep breath, she stood naked at the top of the stairs.
Simple: Undress; head down the stairs; kneel on my yoga mat. Leave everything else to my Dom.
Just like the last time, she felt self-conscious about her naked walk down the stairs. Every inch of her body was on display in vivid detail; every dimple of cellulite; every wobble. Over the years she’d become used to being naked around Tristan. He’d never brought attention to her body’s imperfections; in fact, he’d always seemed to appreciate her naked body. There was an intimacy in that kind of familiarity.
She didn’t have the same kind of history with Michael, and she was painfully aware that her body wasn’t model-perfect. He’d seen her naked once before, for the over-the-knee spanking, and hadn’t indicated that he found her body distasteful.
But she knew her body was lacking, and without her clothes, there were no flattering vertical stripes, no slimming black or navy, no long tops to cover her hips…
No armour; no way to hide.
He stood at the foot of the stairs, his hips leaning back against the chest of drawers and arms crossed, waiting for her. A crop dangled from one of his hands where it was tucked against his chest. He watched her with those unnerving dark eyes. Step by step she descended into the basement, until she was standing awkwardly before him. She lowered her eyes, and her arms twitched with the need to cover her breasts, to curl into a ball.
They stood in awkward silence for a minute. “Where are you supposed to go when you first come into this basement?” He reminded her gently.
My yoga mat! “I’m sorry, sir,” she mumbled and hustled over to her dark grey mat, which had been laid out alone, facing the centre of the room. The St Andrew’s cross had been wheeled out to take centre stage, and beside it, a trolley. On her way to the mat, her eye fell on the contents of the trolley, and she made out three different types of floggers, two paddles, and a cane.
She kneeled, eyes fixed on the trolley. That cane scared the crap out of her; the other implements would hurt – she had no doubt about that – but she’d seen the effects of that cane on Tristan the weekend before, and she trembled.
Michael approached slowly and circled around her. Every step increased her anxiety. He gently cupped the back of her neck, just resting it there, and the touch grounded her. “Hands behind your back, gripping your elbows,” he said. His tone was firm, but patient. “Square your shoulders.” The tip of the crop tapped her inner thigh. “Knees spread wider apart. More. More.”
Judith shifted to make the changes he wanted, but her eyes kept straying to that trolley. He put a finger under her chin and tilted her head to look at him. “Don’t look at that trolley – look at me.”
She obeyed, but she was still trembling with trepidation. She’d agreed to this. “Do you trust me?” He asked softly. “Do you trust me to know what you need? Trust me with your well-being?”
I know I won’t need that cane.
But this is Michael.
Sir.
“Yes, sir,” she whispered. Her eyes itched to stray back to the trolley, but she kept them on him by force of will.
“Good,” he smiled. He unclipped a set of leather cuffs from his belt. “Give me your wrist.”
With the cuffs buckled to her wrists, he led her to the St Andrew’s cross and turned her to face away from it. He cuffed her arms over her head, her ankles to the lower arms of the X, and stepped over to the trolley, then returned with a black si
lk scarf. He held it up for her inspection. “Judith,” he murmured, and he waited until she met his eyes. “Do you trust me?”
He’d repeated the question so many times, there must be a reason.
Judith looked him in the eye, determined to take whatever he wanted to give her. “Yes, sir. I trust you.”
“Good girl,” he smiled. He fitted the blindfold over her eyes, making sure her hair wasn’t caught in the knot, or that it was too tight over her eyes.
He left her alone at the cross, and she could hear shuffling. The rumble of wheels on the concrete floor. The creak as something was adjusted.
“I want you to focus on me,” Michael said. He never raised his voice, and his voice was soothing. “I will use one of the items on that trolley on you. All I want you to do is feel. Embrace the feeling. Are you ready?”
Ready as I’ll ever be.
Dear Lord, please not the cane!
“Ready,” she said.
“Are you focused on me?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you wait,” he said.
“No warm-up, sir?”
“That was your warm-up, Princess. Now wait.”
With the blindfold, her awareness expanded into her other senses. She listened for movement, but other than the normal sounds one would expect in the basement, she could hear nothing. Taste was irrelevant. She couldn’t smell anything either. That left touch…
That cane!
She flinched when it touched her, only it wasn’t as hard as she’d expected. In fact, it was feather-light, and she could barely feel it at all. It wasn’t a cane; the first point of contact was a graze across her left nipple, so velvet-soft, and so fleeting, that at first she wondered if it’d been her imagination, but her nipple ruched up tight in response. The touch on her other nipple was equally soft, and not only did the nipple tighten, but goose-flesh raced across her chest and down her spine.
The sensation was soft and silky, and Michael used it to trace lazy paths over her body. Around her throat; her collarbones; the sensitive curve under her breast; the soft, pale flesh on the inside of her arms and elbows to her wrists and back again; down between her breasts, her belly and inner thighs…
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