It was Sean’s show, and he was a man who knew what he wanted.
Max was aware of Sean switching implements several times, and using his bare hands, but he didn’t care. He rode each wave of pain and pleasure, the way his cock rubbed against the sheets on the bed, the way Sean used his body as an implement. Sometimes to pin him to the bed while straddling him, sometimes striking with his fists or pinching.
Building him to a crescendo.
Finally, Sean dragged Max all the way up onto the bed, facedown over the towel he’d spread there. Sean removed the ball gag from Max before dragging his thighs wide apart. Warm breath washed over Max’s sac as Sean shoved his face in there and licked and sucked on his balls. Even a nibble of teeth scraping over sensitive flesh, making Max shiver in anticipation.
Sean loved this, as a Top or bottom. As a Top it was to tease and torment, and as a bottom Sean just loved to suck whatever was put in front of him—fingers, cock, pussy, he wasn’t particular.
Sean pulled Max’s ass cheeks apart and rimmed him, Max’s cock throbbing now, close to the edge between the way it was trapped between his body and the towel and the pleasure of Sean’s mouth on him.
Then Sean sat up and slapped his ass cheeks. “Scoot up.”
Max knew what he wanted and pushed up with his knees a little, giving Sean perfect access to his ass.
Sean squeezed Max’s hot and tender ass cheeks in his hands again. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Max didn’t have time to prep himself before Sean’s lubed cock poked for entry twice before sliding home inside him.
Max groaned, biting back his moan of pain as it quickly turned to a sweet burn of pleasure.
“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to hear.” Sean fell on him, hooking his arms under Max and holding on to his shoulders, his weight pinning Max flat on the mattress.
Max bent his legs back at the knees, curling around Sean’s legs as the man started his slow grind.
Pleasure rippled through him, almost taking him over the edge. He knew from the towel that meant Sean would grind him until Max came like this for him.
Max’s only problem would be holding back and enjoying being ridden for a while. Helpless, he relaxed his arms, where they were pinned between him and Sean.
Wasn’t the first or even thirty-first time Sean had taken him like this.
Sean’s breath brushed his left ear, hot, gasping wordless sounds of pleasure as his raw cock fucked Max’s ass perfectly. Sean’s fingers dug into the tops of Max’s shoulders, and he knew he’d have perfectly spaced bruises there by tomorrow morning.
Marks he’d smile over and enjoy running his fingers over at work on Monday while sitting in his office.
Alone like this, they could also be raunchier with each other than they felt comfortable with around Cali. Not that they hid this part of themselves from her, but it usually only came out in full force when she wasn’t participating in the fun.
“Love breeding this ass,” Sean whispered. “My ass. Only cock ever been in this sweet ass.” His teeth clamped down on the back of Max’s shoulder, hard, making him moan. “Been too long since I fucked a load into you, huh? Maybe I should stay on Top for a while. Remind you who you belong to.”
Max bit down on his lower lip, groaning as he tried to hold back his orgasm. He was damned close. Amused, Cali had once taken a picture of them like this together, one Sunday afternoon, using a black and white filter.
Hottest fucking picture he’d ever seen in his life, the needy, helpless look on his face and the eager, seductive heat on Sean’s as he’d been whispering something to him.
He kept a copy of it on his phone and the few times he found he needed to jerk off alone, he frequently looked at it and remembered this feeling.
Being totally owned.
The trust he had in Sean.
Their love.
“Tell me,” Sean hoarsely ordered. He sounded like he was close, too. “Tell me what you want.”
“Please breed my ass, Sir. I need a load of your cum inside me.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Sean picked up the pace, and between the hard, pounding fuck and the friction from his body and the mattress, Max’s cock exploded. The feel of his ass squeezing Sean’s cock triggered his orgasm. Sean took several deep, final thrusts before falling still on top of him, his grip relaxing.
Then he kissed Max’s cheek. “Love you so fucking much.”
Max tensed his ass, squeezing Sean’s softening cock inside him and making the other man laugh. “Love you, too, buddy.”
Chapter Two
Good for him.
The guys had left the bedroom door open. From the sound of things, she guessed Sean had flipped the flogger on Max, so to speak, and was now enjoying himself some Toppy time.
Being three switches never gets dull.
She turned up her music, just loud enough to drown out the sounds of their spanking and fucking as she sat at her desk and ate her sandwich while studying reports. Before she’d joined the men, Max and Sean had kept the barest-bones of records, almost not enough to properly do their taxes. Overall expenses and income, and the sales tax. That was it.
She’d set up reports and split everything into detailed cost analysis for every product they sold that they completely manufactured themselves. She could look at any item in their inventory and see how many hours it took to make, and how much materials cost for it. That helped her when she ran sales specials, to see what her lowest break-even point was on items. And it allowed her to take deductions when a product lost money, something the men had never calculated before.
Once she finished all of this, next week she’d be able to start the final planning for the fetish convention they’d be vending at next month. It was one of the largest and longest-running in the country. It’d been a while since the men had vended at a fetish convention. After the bullshit Max and Sean’s ex Lydia had put them through, they hadn’t had the heart to do any, and hadn’t wanted to run the risk of seeing her at one.
Cali had convinced them that, this year, they needed to stretch out again. This convention was up in Tampa, right in their backyard, and they really couldn’t afford to miss it. The visibility alone would be worth it. Their booth was already paid for, and they had their hotel room reserved.
The fact that Lydia was dead and gone and there was no way in hell they’d run into her there didn’t hurt any, although she hadn’t been dead when Cali had reserved their booth and hotel room.
That was just an added bonus now.
Cali had also been maximizing their visibility on Instagram lately, but she was still new at it. It’d been one platform she’d hesitated to use, because she wasn’t sure how, quite honestly. Between pictures of Baxter in costumes, pictures of Sean in various costumes, and well-composed pictures of implements, she was seeing more traffic arriving from there. She was still trying to tweak her hashtags and figure out what their best ROI was.
This was stuff Max and Sean, honestly, never had time for before. Before her, their efforts went into making and shipping toys around their day jobs. Yes, they had the website, but it’d been a hot mess on a skillet and not a very effective tool.
And after their bad experience with Lydia killed their desire to vend at fetish events, they’d had limited local exposure. Cali had asked the organizers of the convention for the contact info for some of the fetish models and others who were going to be in attendance. She had contacted many of them about giving them some implements to include in their videos and photo shoots.
Kinky product placement.
Couldn’t hurt, and the investment was worth it. She’d make sure they brought plenty of those implements with them to sell.
One good thing was they had Venture to sell toys, literally in their back yard. They usually put test runs there first, frequently giving new implements away to their close friends for R&D, a perfectly acceptable write-off. In exchange, they received valuable input from trusted people on any changes needed before
doing full production runs of any implements. Cali didn’t want it to look like the only reason they were involved with the club was to sell toys, but Marcia and Derrick had assured them they were perfectly fine with it.
Another area where Cali had helped grow the business was pinpointing their best-selling items and adjusting their manufacturing techniques accordingly. Instead of making one or two here and there, she had them stock up on certain implements, especially ahead of website sales, and showed them making them in greater numbers ahead of time was a more efficient use of their time. Newer implements without a proven track record were made in smaller batches. She posted a schedule for the men to follow to keep her from running out of stock and to make their lives easier.
She wasn’t afraid to change things around, either. Sometimes, a particular item fell out of favor on the website, so she cut back production on it. That was where knowing material costs and how long it took, on average, to make an implement helped her out. If they ended up overstocked on something, she ran flash specials on it, maybe even as a free add-on to an order over a certain dollar amount.
These were things the men couldn’t do before, because they didn’t have anything but guesswork to go by.
She’d also insisted on learning how to make some of the items, meaning she could produce some of their most popular stock during the week. Or, at least get the roughed-out implements ready for the men to finish.
A bare-handed smack, followed by Max moaning, drifted down the hall.
Stupid uterus.
At least she didn’t feel guilty about not lending a hand. The men had never made her feel like that, and she regretted snapping at Max earlier. Sean was only being Sean, playful and goofy and fun.
Max was just a clueless guy. Well, they were both clueless guys about some things.
Overall, she rarely had any complaints.
There was the one time they’d dunked her in the pool when she’d had her phone on her, but they’d even made up for that, too.
She resented her body’s monthly attempt to murder her. With the guys having had vasectomies, it wasn’t like she was ever going to use her uterus.
At least I’m not preggers, like Essie.
She shuddered at the thought.
* * * *
Once the moaning and sounds of spanking died down, she finally risked walking to the end of the hall and checking on her guys. Yep, Sean had ended up on top, all right. The leather wrist cuffs Max wore were proof of that. Currently, they were dozing in a post-fuck bliss, Max on his stomach on the bottom, and Sean sprawled on top of him. They looked so adorable like that.
I hope they remember to change the sheets.
Then she spotted the towel under Max.
So Sean is trainable. Excellent.
She made a mental note to mention it to him and thank him for remembering.
Her stomach gurgled, sending her on to their bathroom, where she quietly closed the door behind her so she wouldn’t disturb them.
Aaaannd there was her period.
Terrific.
Figured it’d hit today, when they had to be at the club literally all afternoon and night. This was their Saturday to volunteer running the club. The triad helped Derrick and Marcia, the owners, along with several other trusted volunteers. It took the stress off of them having to be there every single weekend in addition to their day job running their CPA firm.
Marcia and Derrick’s business partners in the club, Kel and Mal, were currently taking a hiatus following Mal’s miscarriage several months earlier. Kel was also the landlord, owning the entire warehouse complex where the club was located.
They were also good friends, and Cali, Max, and Sean wanted to help out any way they could.
Okay, so I suppose there are worse things than suffering through a period every month.
Far worse.
That was another reason she’d asked Sean and Max to get vasectomies when she’d decided she didn’t want kids. Ironically, when she’d been with her ex, she had wanted kids, but he hadn’t.
Who knew at the time what a favor he ended up doing her by walking out on her the way he had, when he had? As a direct result, she’d moved in with Sean and Max and fell hard and fast for them.
The feeling had been mutual.
Now, she couldn’t imagine her life any other way. They had a sweet perfection, the three of them and Baxter, their cat.
They enjoyed babysitting for their friends, and Cali’s cousin, but then they could hand them back to their parents after several hours, or even an overnight, and be child-free again.
Cali got herself situated and headed back to the kitchen to take another dose of Motrin before returning to her office. She really wanted to curl up with her guys and nap, but after months of volunteering at the club, she knew the routine.
By the time they returned home tonight, and they got Baxter consoled for daring to leave him, and stretched out in bed, it’d be nearly four a.m. before she finally fell asleep. Meaning tomorrow would be shot in terms of being productive at anything requiring braining. And if she didn’t get the sales tax check in the mail by Monday, she’d end up incurring a penalty for it being late.
Fuck that noise.
That meant finishing this now. Because if she worked on anything besides the sales tax report before she finished it, it would gnaw at her. She had less than an hour to go, probably. Best to get it done and out of her hair and ready to mail.
Plus, Mondays were nearly always busy for her. People home from work over the weekend, browsing online and placing orders. Mondays were usually her busiest shipping day. She already had four orders that would have to go out.
She was almost finished when she saw she had an e-mail alert for the store account, which was used only for customers contacting them.
When she opened it, she found an e-mail from one of their regular customers, Dave Stuckey. He lived in Georgia, outside of Atlanta, and ordered once or twice a month, at least.
Hey, Cali! I’m going to be in Tampa on business and wanted to know if I could come by and look at your stock in person.
This wasn’t the first time she’d had someone ask something similar, usually if they had a “showroom.”
Sorry, we don’t have a public location. You can drop by Venture in Sarasota during their normal business hours and view some of our stock, and other items for sale, in their office. Or if there’s anything in particular you wanted to see, let me know when you’ll be there and I’ll make sure we drop off the stock ahead of time if we won’t be volunteering that night. Thanks!
She added the club’s website, where he’d find additional information.
Like hell would she let strange, random people from the Internet into her home. They had a PO Box at the UPS store where she did her shipping from for that very reason. It was their “business” address they listed on the website and used as the return address for shipping, because it looked like a physical address and not a PO Box.
It wouldn’t be impossible for someone to track down their home address, if they looked on Florida’s Department of State website, to find their incorporation papers. It was required to have a physical address for the corporation’s agent, which was her. But they also had a DBA for the business, meaning someone would have to do some determined digging, first to figure out their real incorporation name, and then look up their address.
She never gave out their last names to any customers, so it wouldn’t be possible for someone to track them down by voter registration. And the house was placed in a trust that all three of them were members of—something Ed had done for Sean and Max before gay marriage was legal, and the men had added her to it—and someone would have to know the name of the trust to look it up on property tax records.
In other words, Cali felt pretty damn safe.
An hour later, she had finished her reports and wrote the check to drop in the mail Monday. She’d heard another round of something going on in the bedroom, but hadn’t investigated yet. She co
uldn’t tell from the sound if Sean was still Top, or if Max had flipped him back yet.
Not that it mattered, because fun was nearly always had by all when they played.
She was going to shut down her laptop when she saw she had another e-mail from Dave.
Aw. I was hoping for a chance to finally meet you in person. :) Wouldn’t mind taking you out for dinner.
She stared at the message for a long moment, not sure how to take it. Yes, she fended off her fairly regular share of garden-variety online copypasta creepers, the ones who basically hit on anyone without any regard to whether or not they might possibly be interested. But that was usually through FetLife, where her profile connected her to Sean and Max and their profile for the business. On FetLife, they had each other listed as being in a relationship, and their profiles clearly stated they were not interested in play or sex with anyone else. And none of their pictures included their faces.
On their About page on the website, they also didn’t have any face pictures, but they did make it plain they were a poly triad, so it wasn’t like the guy might think he had a shot with her.
Not sure if he was verging into creeper territory or not, and not wanting to piss off a good customer if he wasn’t intending to be a creeper, she carefully worded her reply.
Depends on when the three of us are volunteering whether we’ll be there or not. While we appreciate the offer for dinner, it’s not necessary.
Thanks!
Hopefully, if he was only being innocently friendly, that would back him off. If he’d meant to be more than friendly on purpose, it’d give him a clue that she wasn’t available.
Now if he ranged into true creeper status by ignoring those plain clues, she’d start answering e-mails as Max or Sean.
Usually when she did that, the person didn’t push any farther.
Friends in Common [Suncoast Society] (Siren Publishing Sensations) Page 2