by M. Q. Barber
Back to the kitchen wall, Henry stood with his pants hanging open. As Jay buried his face between his legs, praise and encouragement fell in equal measure from his lips. Henry met her gaze and moved his mouth without a sound. Welcome home.
Unwilling to break Jay’s rhythm, she nodded in silence.
Head bobbing, cheeks hollowing, Jay had gone past the point of licking, teasing variation. He jammed his splayed hands against the wall beside Henry’s hips. Maybe his “punishment” included using nothing but his mouth to touch Henry—or himself. Safe bet Jay’s pants stretched tighter across his erection than they did his delectable ass.
Thrusting shallow, Henry gripped Jay by the hair. A harder thrust, a low growl, and Jay’s throat rippled as he swallowed.
Their game ended too soon for anything but the faintest stirring of her arousal. Bad timing. If she hadn’t hit the T stop as a train pulled away and had to wait, she would’ve been home fifteen minutes sooner. Might’ve gotten a floor seat for the entire pre-dinner show.
With tender strokes, Henry smoothed the clumping mess he’d made of Jay’s hair. “Well done. You do beautiful, passionate work.” He patted Jay’s hands. “You’re free to move these now, so long as you don’t touch yourself.”
As Jay let go with a soft suction-pop, he wriggled his arms around the back of Henry’s thighs and burrowed against his stomach. “Thank you, Henry. I am sorry. I know I need to tell them. Next time. I promise.”
Rather than inform Jay she stood listening, Henry slid into a crouch and cradled him. “Not until you’re ready, my brave boy. You’ve nothing to apologize for, though you do so with much-appreciated attention to detail. Your love is evident in your smallest actions. You needn’t give up your family’s love to enjoy mine, dearest—nor Alice’s, either.”
In a shared glance, she confirmed his belief, his faith in her. Even if years passed before she met Jay’s family, she wouldn’t stop loving him. Hell, her parents weren’t lining up for introductions. Of course, she spoke to hers a few times a year, and Jay seemed stuck in perpetual college-freshman homesickness.
“Was she mad? She didn’t act it yesterday, but I ditched you both.” Jay’s thin tenor didn’t belong to a man who’d just celebrated his thirtieth birthday. “Do you think she’ll accept an apology?”
Silly to get upset over a core element of his personality, especially one she loved. His submissive need to please hadn’t appeared from nothing. Felt so to him because he hadn’t discovered how to satisfy those desires sexually until a few years ago. Exploring his needs had exposed him to predators. But he had Henry now. And her. And probably an overprotective family, which answered why he didn’t want to explain his lovers to them.
“I think you might ask her yourself.” Henry waved her forward. “But I doubt our lovely girl feels she needs an apology any more than I did.”
Eyes wide and dark, Jay lifted his head as she crossed the room.
“Henry’s right, sweetheart. No apologies needed.” Joining them on the floor, she curved around him and kissed his cheek. “But I won’t turn one down, if you’re handing them out for free and Henry doesn’t have other plans for us.”
Apologizing would ease Jay’s fears. When he thought he’d done wrong, he needed to make it right. And Henry always found a safe way to let him.
Chapter 8
Bent over the foot of the bed, her legs spread, Alice practiced patience.
Poorly.
Jay’s gleaming steel toy had disappeared inside him while he issued no protests and more than a few pleases. Hers waited in her cupped hand, its smooth weight secure in her palm. Two Saturday afternoons in a row with her Intro to Anal Pleasure workshop. New for her, but continuing education for Jay.
“Now you’re properly attired for the day.” Henry trailed a finger down the curve of Jay’s ass. “Quite handsome. Quite”—he cupped Jay’s cheeks in both hands—“tempting.”
Mirroring her pose, Jay flashed dark eyes and grasped the sheets. When they’d lain in this position last fall, he’d shaken with nerves as Henry tested her responses to impact play. His swirling confidence and happy whimpers today belonged to a different Jay. On this road, he traveled faster than her. But she’d finally started catching up.
Jay squirmed backward, wiggling his hips off the bed.
With a last squeeze, Henry stepped away. “Our girl will make a lovely match.”
“Sorry I missed your first playdate with your new toy.” Jay folded his elbows underneath his chest and scooted closer. His shower-fresh earthy pine tickled her nose. “Can’t wait to see it in you.”
“I can’t wait to feel it in me.” Uncurling her fingers, she offered up her plug. Half the heft of Jay’s, but thrill-size for her.
Henry plucked the toy from her hand.
Jay swiped a kiss, his apologetic tug on her lip paired with shiny-eyed sincerity.
Palm heavy and digging in, Henry rubbed a circle along the top of her ass. “You gave your toy an enthusiastic welcome last week.”
Fuck, he parted her lips and delved deep. Thick and hot as an extra winter blanket, he induced fever-chills with his strokes.
“And your excitement hasn’t ebbed, I see.” He slipped free, humming, and dragged his fingers across her ass. A drizzle of lube slicked her for him.
Relaxing her ass, pushing to draw him in, turned her legs wobbly.
Sturdy-hipped Jay shored her up.
“Very much in sync,” Henry murmured. “Thank you, my boy.”
Between the new game and the praise, Jay had to be burning a hole in the bedsheets with his cock.
When Henry swapped his fingers for her toy, the wide flare stretched her with ever-present pressure, demanding and satisfying and occupying the space meant for him. The one she’d give him soon.
“Stand up straight, my dears.” Circling the bed, Henry cleaned his fingers and tossed the used cloth.
As she copied Jay’s at-ease pose, metal grazed her thigh. She jammed her cheeks together. Jesus. In her hand, the weight hadn’t felt nearly so heavy.
“Such a well-behaved pair of pets deserves more extensive play.” Steeped in power and presence, Henry surveyed them from his post beside the nightstand. Though he’d stripped and toyed with them—literally—he retained his dress slacks, his button-down, and the tie he’d worn for her birthday last fall. The tie’s leaded lines and colored panes had etched into her wrists, a permanent but invisible tattoo of his ownership and Jay’s devotion.
“A reward for their diligence.” As he passed them, Henry caressed their asses.
She sneaked a peek—though Henry smiled, because he knew, he always knew—at the lean line of Jay’s cock, firm and proud. He held his pose with only the obvious betraying his excitement.
The slow glide of wood rasping on wood inflamed her imagination. Opening a drawer in the special dresser meant Henry had more planned. She sucked every drop of sweetness from the idea. Bondage? For her or Jay. For her and Jay. But Henry had filled them with toys. If he let them play with each other, where would he fit himself?
Jay. His full lips and sleek tongue. The image seared her with simple beauty, Jay hollowing his cheeks in eagerness, Henry reshaping Jay’s throat with his length.
Henry stroked the top of the open drawer. “But I’ll need something from them both first.”
Anything. Her carousel of rewards flipped too fast to follow. In making her wait for him to name one, her smoldering artist scattered embers under her skin.
“Run along to the living room and clear the furniture from the rug, please.”
Do what now?
“Go on.” A smile tugging at his lips, Henry waved them ahead. “I’ll be just a moment.”
Bounding to the living room with carefree excitement, Jay flashed silver between his ass cheeks. She took dainty steps, and not only because following him offered a spectacular view. She’d never been so aware of her ass in her life. With each step, her toy shif
ted, rubbed, and reminded her to squeeze and lift.
In short order, the chairs and the coffee table hugged the big wall. The couch remained, the gray behemoth so often a cozy cuddling spot for three.
Jay struck a fierce pose, muscles straining, lips pulled back in a teeth-bearing grimace. Grunting, he play-heaved the couch with a mighty shove.
God, he had a fucking fabulous ass. Almost dimpled when he tightened up.
“Alice, you forgot to push.” He flicked a boyish smirk her way. “I can’t convince Henry he’s working us hard if you’re standing there staring at me.”
Sure enough, Henry stood beside the dining room table. Damn light-footed dom-silence. Their stealthy lover delivered the best surprises—and if a way to fool him existed, she hadn’t found it yet.
“I was on a break.” Her favorite kind. She devoured Jay from his flexible feet to his tousled hair. “My staring-at-Jay break. If it’s not an hourly perk, it oughta be written in.”
Pinking with pleasure, he copped weightlifting poses. For all his sexy strength, he truly seduced with his sweet smile and his send-me-to-my-knees stare.
He’d captured Henry’s attention, too. Henry smoothed his tie to his belt and beyond. Trapping his cock, his dress pants outlined his growing interest. Behind him, her usual chair hid all but an indistinct black handle. Too dark and thin to be her suede, and a crop wouldn’t be a reward.
“This is a union job, right?” She nudged the couch with her knee. Her end glided three inches back. Despite its size, the behemoth floated featherlight on the non-scratch pads protecting the hardwood. “Henry’s given us contracts and everything.”
The last time they’d cleared the rug, he’d set them at each other in a pillow fight. Today’s reward might be another test. She’d proven herself ready last weekend, but Jay’s reaction to impact play remained a mystery.
Sighing, Jay gave up the muscleman antics and pushed the couch with a palm on the armrest. “And killer benefits.”
Agreed. Though she didn’t relish trying his workout. She clenched as if the toy in her ass would slip out with every step. Hadn’t yet, but she’d been careful. And hyperaware.
He poured on the puppy eyes. “We still get our reward, right? Even if Alice is a shirker?”
Sticking out her tongue, she conspired to get him back with a solid pillow swat, straddle his naked ass, and ride his cock like a goddamn boss. See if he called her shirker then.
“I’m well convinced of your work ethic.” With his low-toned purr and sweeping gaze, Henry curled his love around them. “But the sooner you finish, the sooner your game will begin.”
Square pillows sat in each corner of the couch. Closest weapon at hand, but a draw—Jay had equal access. His gaze flipped past her. Damn. He’d spotted the floor pillows under the front window. As the couch slipped the last few inches and settled into position, she rested a hand on her weapon.
He boosted the pillow at his end and fluffed it with spread fingers, the way he held a basketball poised for a pass.
She’d have to toss a distraction pillow, dodge his throw, and dive on Henry’s mark if she meant to beat Jay to those floor pillows. Tension traveling up her legs, she braced her feet and tugged. Not losing her toy might be part of the rules.
Henry spread his arms wide. “Welcome to your dance studio.”
“Our what?” Her repertoire encompassed two kinds of dancing—the swaying and shuffling of ninth-graders in a sweat-scented gym and the grinding frenzy of the over-twenty-one crowd in a sweat-scented nightclub. Henry didn’t belong in either picture, and where he didn’t belong, sex didn’t belong. The weight teasing her ass insisted sex belonged here. “Are you joking?”
Pillow abandoned, Jay faked a fanciful ballet twirl, arms flying and cock bouncing.
“I am utterly sincere.” Henry stepped onto the rug and laid his hands on Jay’s shoulders, settling their hyperactive lover with his long-fingered hold. “Dance is grace and beauty in motion. The both of you are, as well.”
The both of them, maybe. Fluid, supple, and silent, Henry always moved like a dancer. Jay powered through on the athletic grace of strength, balance, and speed.
“I should think you’d enjoy dance, Alice.” Henry released Jay, raised his arms to an invisible partner, and executed a three-point pivot. “Precise patterns, replicated into infinity, movement dictated by a predictable rhythm—”
“But it’s not predictable.” Dances meant gawky adolescents stumbling over each other. Too-small, pinching heels borrowed from Mom’s closet. That or alcohol-fueled abandon, and those patterns weren’t worth replicating. “I never know which way to go.”
“Then you’ve had inelegant partners.” He scooped her chin up and tapped her lips. “Properly, you resisted giving control to them, as your body did not trust them. Do you trust me, Alice? Do you trust Jay?”
“You know I do.”
He kissed her forehead. “That’s all I ask.” As he positioned her and Jay facing each other, he skimmed their bodies with fleeting touches. “I expect neither of you learned formal dancing in school?”
She shook her head. Only if square dancing counted. No team sports in gym for a whole week. What a waste.
“Not in school.” Jay tilted toward Henry as his arms were raised and his hand pressed above her waist. “At my sibs’ weddings. Last one, I’d just hit the boner-popping years.” He shuddered, head to toe. “Dancing with your new sister-in-law is the wrooonnng time.”
Henry caught him in a swift embrace. “I doubt our girl will mind.”
“Not one bit.” Trying for a smirk, she probably came closer to a leer.
“She’s more likely to consider your interest an added bonus.” He rubbed Jay’s hip. “As do I.”
He left them poised to move, hands clasped. Middle school dance sounded about right, minus the sweaty palms. They had room enough for the Holy Ghost between them and then some.
Henry clicked on the stereo, and orchestral music filled the air. “My own school required attendance at dance lessons weekly.”
Yum. Adolescent Henry. Sensitive, intense, all studious and charming, with flawless manners—
“Half the class took to finding private time for release beforehand. The male half.”
—frantically jerking off before class in a desperate bid to stay in control when it mattered. She rearranged her mental image from how sweet to fuck yes as her body furnace cranked.
Cock twitching, Jay whimpered and swayed.
“The others, well. Girls were such mysteries.” Henry maintained an unaffected tone, but his eyes crinkled with kind laughter. “Their signs invisible to us uneducated louts. Gasps and blushes. Thighs pressing together.” He teased her with a swipe below the curve of her ass. “Surely they didn’t entertain persistent visions of bodies writhing in unison on less vertical planes.”
She had, a time or two. They might, sooner or later, depending on what Henry had left on the table.
“This is a waltz, but you needn’t worry about the exact steps.” In a graceful glide already attuned to the music, Henry slipped away. “We’ll begin by having you gain an appreciation for your own bodies before you attempt matching the music or each other.”
Jay cracked a wide grin. “Like masturbating. My favorite homework assignment.”
Snorting, she ducked her head. Not helpful. With his muscled abs and half-hard cock, he filled her vision.
Henry chuckled. “Exactly right. Dance is a socially acceptable form of foreplay.”
Not their version, with her and Jay nude and Henry their hands-on instructor.
“Follow your instincts.” He waved for them to begin.
Her instincts sent her crashing into Jay’s shin on the downbeat. As he hopped backward, she went along for the ride. With a quick spin, he kept them both from tumbling.
“Nice save.” Plastered to his chest, she bonked her head against his shoulder. “I think we skipped the masturbation l
esson and went straight to the dry humping.”
Jay squeezed her waist and hoisted her. “I’m good with that.”
Her feet dangled, her toes brushing the tops of his, as he shook them both with his laughter. Euphoric. That encapsulated this almost tipsy high. Naked, pressed tight to Jay, the weight of her toy shifting between her legs. She slung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
They’d gone off course, but Henry issued no reprimands. His silence, his stance, all stayed easy and relaxed as she slithered back to her feet. He smiled on approach and ruffled Jay’s hair. Slipped behind her and nuzzled her neck. “Allow me to cut in, dearest.”
He unspooled them and glided off—with Jay in his arms.
They made a gorgeous couple. Slim and tanned, his ass a splash of pale milk, Jay followed Henry without hesitation. And Henry…He commanded. Wordlessly. His eyes gleamed. His arms formed a framework rigid but flowing. His steps powered their movement and determined their path.
Dancing was his basketball.
She and Jay stood on Henry’s court. He meant to teach them an activity he enjoyed, but he wanted them to enjoy it, too.
In the privacy of their home, Jay poured his energy into learning his lesson and pleasing his master. Gazing adoringly, he glowed brighter as praise fell from Henry’s lips. Jay’s trust and Henry’s leadership blended smooth and sweet. As their song spun into silence, Henry delivered Jay beside her.
She clapped with gusto. They deserved more. “Pretty slick, you two.”
“All Henry.” Loose-limbed, Jay flaunted an orgasmic flush. “I didn’t think about a thing. It’s just”—he wriggled as Henry released him—“letting him move me.”
“Beautiful understanding, my boy.” Henry reeled her in and kissed her lightly. “It’s all right if this proves more difficult for you, sweet girl. You so delight in conquering each challenge I set for you.”
Determined not to miss his commands, she gripped him tight. His slacks, concealing his legs, made the shift in his weight hard to discern.
“Easy,” he whispered.
