A Very Kinky Valentine's Day

by Tymber Dalton

  The trust bond they shared—there was nothing like it.

  He rolled on top of her, forcing her thighs apart with his knees, his cock already growing hard. Finding her hands, he raised them over her head, pinning her wrists with one hand while he started fingering her clit with the other.

  “I think tonight my girl is going to get fucked nice and hard. It’s been a couple of days.” She was already wet for him, another thing he loved about playing with her. Her dropping into subspace was always accompanied by her getting wet for him.

  Although when Ma’am topped him, that made her pretty wet, too.

  Now that her back had fully healed from surgery, there’d been plenty of nights she’d ridden him to exhaustion both as his girl and as Ma’am. Sometimes both in the same evening. Not long before the Christmas party at Seth and Leah’s, they’d spent a weekend alone, with their phones turned off, and literally fucked each other into exhaustion before Sunday morning hit.

  That weekend, John had taken off from work early on a Friday afternoon to deliberately beat Abbey home, had dropped her into subspace the second she walked through the door, and he’d kept her submissive and restrained in some way until they’d collapsed late Saturday night. Until then, she’d been collared, cuffed, and her pussy and ass stuffed with either his cock or toys without respite.

  On Sunday morning, Ma’am had awoken, tied him down, fucked his ass with the largest strap-on dildo they had, and then rode his face with her pussy while she jerked him off until he’d made her come, then she’d allowed him to come.

  And fun was had by all.

  Tonight there would be no flipping Sir over to submissive mode. He didn’t think she had the energy, anyway.

  He pulled his fingers from her pussy and shoved them into her mouth. “Such a wet girl. You need a cock in that pussy, don’t you?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she mumbled around his fingers even as she eagerly sucked them.

  He reached over to the bedside table, grabbed a short piece of rope he kept there for just this purpose, and quickly bound her wrists together over her head. He grinned as he sat up, grabbed her legs behind her knees, and lifted them until her thighs touched her chest.

  Fisting the base of his cock with one hand, he fed it into her pussy before leaning in, her ankles over his shoulders, and sank all the way inside her.

  “Hold on, baby,” he said. “I forgot something.” He leaned over enough he could rummage through the drawer again, this time returning with a small bullet vibrator and a roll of medical tape.

  “Oh, look what we have here.” He’d planned ahead, waiting for a time to try this new method of forced orgasm torture out on her. One of their friends had given him the idea to tape the small vibrator into place.

  She let out a cute whimper that made his cock throb.

  He sat up, ripping off a piece of the clear mesh tape. She kept her pussy shaved, per Sir’s orders, so he didn’t have to worry about it sticking to her hair. After securely taping it into place over her clit, he grinned. “Wouldn’t want my girl to go without orgasms.” He hit the button on the end of the bullet, making it buzz.

  Abbey let out a gasp, but then he was in position again, her legs over his shoulders as he started fucking her, long, hard, deep, slow strokes, a pace he could maintain for at least fifteen minutes.

  The bottom of every stroke meant the buzzing vibrator, while not very strong normally, was jammed against her clit. By the fifth stroke she’d started coming, allowing him to adjust his tempo, knowing her body and what fired her off, so he could keep her rolling through what to her would feel like one long nonstop orgasm.

  Straining against the ropes binding her wrists, she twisted and whined, unable to escape the pleasant torture of her clit and pussy. He reached up with one hand and firmly grabbed her chin.

  “Take it or safeword, girl. You’ve had worse than this. I’m going to fuck you until I’m ready to stop fucking you, and you’re going to keep coming for me the whole time.”

  Oh, the deep, delicious glaze in her eyes, the one he loved seeing, both melted his heart and set the playful sadist inside him into gleeful giggles. She would get payback, eventually. She’d come up with something similar to this, some way to level the playing field.

  And they’d both enjoy the hell out of it.

  Until then, she was his girl, pinned by his body and writhing on his cock, her pussy spasming around him with each wave of pleasure sweeping through her body.

  He slowed his pace, playing with her nipples, drawing it out. He knew what this did to her. With her eyes closed, her head thrown back, her skin flushed, she was lovating every second of it.

  He didn’t know if anyone else had ever coined that term, but they used it a lot. Love-hate: lovate.

  Like when she had him eat her pussy while he had to wear a chastity cage and a butt plug, meaning his cock tried to painfully rip the damn thing off itself from the inside out as it strained to be free.

  Lovate.

  Like when he had a vibrator up her pussy and his cock balls-deep inside her throat while he smacked her ass with a cane.

  Lovate.

  Being a switch was fun, in countless ways.

  What he couldn’t understand was why most of their friends didn’t understand that obvious fact.

  After about twenty minutes, he’d reached the point of no return and pounded her into the mattress. Her cries of pleasure only made his final explosion that much stronger, and he made sure when he finished that he remained buried inside her, his pubic bone holding the humming bullet pressed tightly against her now-swollen clit.

  “Poor, poor girl,” he playfully murmured. “Is someone ready to stop coming?”

  She hesitated before nodding. He envied her dilemma. She’d once explained it to him as a sensation that she both loved and craved, wanting it to never end, yet wanting it to stop so she could catch her breath. A catch-22.

  He bumped his hips against her a few more times. “I guess I should take pity on you.” He finally sat up. Pulling his cock out, he reached down and switched the vibrator off.

  A long, shuddering, satisfied sigh escaped Abbey, her eyes falling closed.

  He carefully sussed out the situation before he made his next move. He’d been careful. The tape only touched her outer labia and the bullet, not her clit itself.

  Which, if he was wrong, would be the difference between payback and sincere apologies in the next few seconds.

  “Okay,” he said as he got a corner of the piece of tape up. “One, two—”

  He ripped it off, both enjoying and wincing at her startled shriek.

  Wide-eyed, she glared up at him.

  “I think I’d better start shaving down there,” he said, barely able to contain his laughter, not sure he wanted to imagine the kind of payback she’d have in mind for him.

  “Oh, you have nooo idea,” she grumbled. “You just wait.”

  He held it up. “Hey, it can go back on and stay on all night long, girl.”

  Her gaze softened a little. “No, Sir. Please.”

  He leaned in and gently swiped his tongue along her clit, lightly, teasing. Her legs spread again, a sigh escaping her. But now that he’d settled in and knew he might get at least one more out of her, he dropped the taped vibrator onto the bed and hooked his hands around her thighs to keep her from squirming away.

  Which was exactly what she tried when she realized what he was up to, until she finally came again a few minutes later and she begged him to stop.

  “There,” he said as he sat up again. “I kissed it and made it allll better. Just make sure Ma’am remembers that.”

  “She’ll remember, all right,” Abbey said. “Buddy, how she’ll remember this. You just wait.”

  He grinned. “I can’t wait.”

  “You say that now.”

  “True. And anything Ma’am can dish up, Sir can dish right back.”

  She stuck out her lower lip in a pout.

  He reached up to untie her wris
ts. “Hey, don’t go doing that. That just makes me want to do it to you again.”

  Chapter Three

  Early Saturday afternoon, Clarisse rode in the backseat with mixed emotions. Their two young sons were spending the night with their friends, Jason and Katie Callahan, while the three of them were going to enjoy an overnight away. They’d already booked their room in Sarasota, which they were now heading to from Tarpon Springs. They’d check in, get settled, go to the party at John and Abbey’s, and then return to the hotel later.

  After sleeping in late Sunday morning, they’d grab brunch before heading north and home.

  This past Christmas, they’d taken an entire weekend and spent it at Seth and Leah’s house the weekend of the group’s annual Christmas party. While it had been a fantastic weekend getaway, it had also started Clarisse thinking.

  Especially when their friend Essie and her three men announced they were expecting a baby late that summer.

  And on the way home, alone in the car, the three of them had a discussion, the final outcome being that if Clarisse wanted to have another baby, the men would support her decision. They emphasized it was, ultimately, her decision to make, and hers alone.

  Also, they’d volunteered to get vasectomies, if that was what she wanted.

  What she hadn’t told them yet was that she’d stopped taking her birth control pills the very next day, when they’d returned home. In a way, she’d decided to let nature take its course. She’d opted to give it six months. If nothing happened, she’d take it as a sign and ask them to get snipped. None of them were getting any younger, and she didn’t want a wide age gap between any future siblings.

  But maybe nature had decided things for her in a pretty definite way, and far sooner than she’d expected. She wasn’t sure. The next period she should have had was extremely light, just one day of spotting. With stress, it wasn’t unusual for her to have a light period, followed by a heavy one.

  Except she didn’t have one after that. She was nearly two weeks late now. Based on a couple of other symptoms she recognized from her previous two pregnancies, she suspected nature had the final laugh here.

  That’s what the two test kits hidden in her overnight bag would tell her later tonight, once they reached John and Abbey’s. She didn’t have the guts to do it alone. She wanted Tilly, Loren, Leah, Shayla, and the others there with her holding her hand when she did it.

  Not literally, ew. Metaphorically.

  Honestly? Clarisse had thought six months would pass uneventfully and she’d ask the men to get snipped. With both their sons, it had taken several months each time after she’d discontinued the pill for her to get pregnant. And that had been with one of her men, on average, having a go at her usually once a day, if not more often. Sometimes even both of them.

  Apparently the Christmas party had influenced her men. Ever since returning home, both men had been particularly horny. Sully had been especially generous with Mac lately, giving him carte blanche to nail her whenever the other man wanted.

  Hell, she couldn’t even go down and start a load of laundry without one of them following her, walking in, and bending her over the machines for a quickie.

  Not that she was complaining, but maybe the colder weather and less time out on the boat had allowed them to build up some excess energy. There wasn’t a single day since the Christmas party, that she could recall, that they both hadn’t fucked her at least once, usually twice each, and on quite a few days a third time each, if both their sons were napping in the afternoon.

  There were even two times they’d both managed to work their way to a fourth load in one day.

  Now that she thought about it, there hadn’t been a single blow job given in her house since the Christmas party. Plenty of times fluffing had been used to get one or both of them hard, but then every single load they shot went right into her pussy. They hadn’t even done one of their favorite things, to both take her at the same time, one in her pussy, and one in her ass. Or a spit-roast. They’d used a butt plug on her plenty of times while fucking her, but it was definitely…odd.

  With reality pressing, she wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice. There wouldn’t be any going back if nature had played the ultimate prank on her. And if they had managed to get her pregnant, it would mean fessing up to what she’d done.

  To withholding information from them.

  She worried more about disappointing the men with that revelation than she did about the possibility of her actually being pregnant. She knew they would happily welcome another baby.

  Disappointing them, though…that was something she never wanted to do.

  But the thought of another baby conjured a flare of emotions.

  In her heart, she hoped for a girl, a little sister for her sons.

  Although, given her own childhood, a girl would likely end up a tomboy, her mom and dads teaching her how to fish, shoot, work on the boat—things that wouldn’t exactly make her a girlie-girl.

  No, Sully hadn’t specifically told her she was supposed to tell them if she went off the pill. Stopping had been on a whim on her part.

  Lying was forbidden in their household. Technically, she hadn’t lied to them. They had gone out of their way to tell her, as equals, that if she wanted another baby, the decision was solely up to her. That they would support her one hundred percent either way.

  Either way, I need to tell them I’m off the pill this weekend. If I’m not pregnant, then no harm, no foul.

  If I am…

  She both dreaded and anticipated what might lie in store for her once Sully learned the news.

  “What are you thinking about so hard back there, pet?” Sully asked from the driver’s seat. She glanced up to see his gaze resting on her via the rearview mirror.

  “Sorry. Just daydreaming.” About needing to figure out how to reconfigure the house…

  Mac turned in the passenger seat, concern on his face. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  No. “I’m fine. Tired.”

  Okay, that much was the truth. She hadn’t slept well the night before. She’d stopped by a drugstore before making a grocery run, and had paid for the pregnancy test kits with cash. She’d pulled the two test kits and the instructions out of the box, which she’d thrown away in the garbage can in front of the store. Then she’d kept the kits and instructions hidden in the bottom of her cavernous purse until she’d packed this morning, tucking them into her bag with her other things.

  So far, they’d gone undetected by her men.

  That was something she was relatively certain would earn her at least a question or two from either man, had they spotted them. They’d been through the routine twice now. They damn well knew what they were for.

  “We don’t have to stay late tonight if you’re not feeling up to it,” Sully told her. “We can just make an appearance and go back to the hotel and order pizza or something.”

  “No, I want to go. I don’t get to see everyone very often.” And might be seeing them even less if I’m pregnant again.

  She hated having so much unspoken context hanging there between her and her men. It felt alien, wrong, a breach of trust.

  “It’s just you’ve seemed a little…off the past couple of days,” Sully said.

  Sure, heap the guilt on even more, whydoncha?

  Snapping herself out of her thoughts, she offered him a smile. “I’ll be okay. Get a little coffee in me and I’ll perk right up.”

  “Ba-dum-bump-chshh,” Mac joked.

  Why am I letting this get to me? I’m the luckiest woman on the face of the planet.

  And she knew it. Mac had made a full and remarkable recovery, which Clarisse knew was due in no small part to his devotion to both of them. Sully’s writing and speaking career was going well, the boat was making them money, their kids were gorgeous and happy and healthy, and…

  I feel guilty.

  Well, it wouldn’t kill her to feel guilty for a little longer. Until tonight, when she had her bes
t friends to emotionally back her up while she came clean.

  What, exactly, she’d be coming clean about remained to be seen.

  Her hand rested on her tummy as she stared out the window at the passing scenery.

  Chapter Four

  Shayla stood by the front door and—barely—resisted the urge to nervously tap her foot on the floor in agitation. Five thirty on Saturday evening, and Tony was still back in the bedroom.

  The last time she’d called out a time check to him fifteen minutes earlier, he’d threatened to give her fifty hard smacks with a paddle and not let her come all night long if she did it again. That when she was ready, she was to stand and wait for him by the front door, and if she wasn’t there when he was ready to go, she’d get twenty-five hard smacks with the paddle.

  And no orgasms.

  Sometimes, she wondered if he deliberately tried to bait her in certain situations. Normally he was a fairly punctual man.

  But then there were nights like this which tried her patience.

  The sound of footsteps in the hall preceded his appearance in the living room.

  From his playful smirk, she knew this time, at least, she’d been dead on the money.

  “I guess pet wants to come tonight after all, hmm?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  His smirk widened to a full-on grin. “Oh, come on, pet. You wouldn’t want me to let you get bored now, would you?”

  “No, Sir.”

  He joined her by the front door and opened it. He’d already loaded their bag in the car earlier, before he took his shower. Now she realized he’d carefully planned his timeline.

  She stepped through the door. “I thought you said you’d warn me if you were going to give me a mindfuck.”

  “Did I?” His grin widened even further. “Hmm. Seems to me like someone agreed that Sir sets the rules.”

  She knew this was a no-win situation. “Yes, Sir.” She headed to the car, unable to remain aggravated at the man. Because she loved him, yes, but even more because he kept her on her toes. It was never dull around their home.