by Kira Barker
“I think that’s enough.”
“No!” I cried out, mostly because it was the only word remaining in my vocabulary. Jack snorted while Simon shot me something between a very amused smile and a glare that had lost a lot of its previous intensity, but when he reached for my arms and wrenched me up into a mostly sitting position, his touch wasn’t the least bit gentle.
“Oh yes, and don’t you dare tell me what I’m allowed to do, or not,” he grunted, but still seemed to fight a laugh. He then sat down beside me right at the corner of the couch that was usually my place, and Jack helped him pull me onto his lap. For a moment I wondered if he was going to spank me now, but they kept pushing me around until I was straddling Simon, with Jack moving in behind me.
Simon’s cock still wasn’t fully hard but getting there, and I got mesmerized for a second when he wrapped his hand around it and started stroking up and down. With his other hand he held out a condom to Jack, who quickly rolled it down his own dick.
A push between my shoulder blades had me pitch toward Simon, leaving my ass higher in the air, and a spurt of cool lube later, I felt the head of Jack’s cock push against my rosette. There was a moment when tension built and I tried to brace myself, but then he slid in with surprising ease, making me feel all kinds of pleasurable sensations I hadn’t really thought my ass was capable of. Then again, as close to coming as I still was, anything even remotely stimulating might have felt great right then.
Keeping one hand at his dick, Jack grabbed my hip with the other, then started to ease out and back in, setting a delicious yet infuriatingly slow rhythm. I screwed my eyes shut and nudged my cheek harder against Simon’s shoulder, then did my best to just get lost in the moment. It felt so fucking great that it wasn’t really a hard thing to accomplish.
I might have come that way if given enough time, but long before that, Simon was ready, prompting Jack to slow, then fully pull out. I mewled my protest, but cut off mid-whine when Simon pulled me down onto his cock instead, sliding easily into my pussy until my thighs hit his. Jack’s hand on my shoulder pulled my torso away from Simon’s, bringing me into a more upright kneeling position and thus able to look down at him. He offered me a slight smile, then leaned his head more firmly against the back of the couch as he let his hands roam up my body to settle on my breasts.
Then Jack’s cock was back, and I exhaled shakily when he started to ease himself back into me. I won’t lie—it was uncomfortable at first, but the spreading sense of being filled more than made up for that. A buck of the hips from Simon that got his cock moving in the other direction from Jack’s, and I forgot all about it.
“Fuck!”
And that, they did.
Until then, things had worked more or less smoothly, but now they turned appropriately chaotic. For one, I was completely incapable of holding back, and this time neither of the guys seemed ready to stop, so I got a hard pinch in the ass from Simon for my trouble of not being his obedient little slut, but that was the extent of his ire. Instead, he moved his hands up from my breasts over my neck to clasp the sides of my face, then pulled me down into a hungry kiss that stole what little air I had left.
My orgasm, starting kind of slow now that it was finally allowed to consume me, turned into a wildfire when Jack put one leg up on the couch next to Simon’s knee, and abandoned all pretense of going slow anymore. Simon effectively muffled most of the ungodly moans that built up low in my chest, leaving the sound of flesh slapping against flesh to be the only competition for Jack’s drawn-out groan when he came.
For a moment, our sandwich almost threatened to disassemble, but then Jack put his arms around me and pulled me back, giving Simon’s hips enough range of motion to, well, move. Nerve endings that were already firing got even more stimulated as he grabbed my hips and started thrusting up into me, while Jack, the sneaky bastard, reached down to rub my clit.
I came again, and maybe a third time—I really couldn’t say—before Simon stilled after two last hard jerks of his hips that reverberated through my entire body. My breathing was so irregular that I was seeing dark spots dance before my eyes, or maybe that was due to some weird brain damage because they’d literally fucked me silly.
Whatever it was, I didn’t care because I’d never felt better in my entire life.
Chapter 5
Jack let go to let me sag against Simon’s chest just as Simon tried to shift some of my weight to the side, ending in a commotion of limbs and bodies that got me sprawling half onto Jack, half onto the floor. My elbow might have hit him in the ribs, but his pained groan got drowned out by my laughter.
“What the—” Simon started, then saw us two idiots trying to crawl off each other but not succeed, which got him joining in.
As amazing as everything else had been, being able to just lie there, gasping for breath, my face and stomach hurting from laughing so hard, was the best feeling in the world.
Eventually, Jack managed to push me off him enough to crawl out from under me, and when Simon slid off the couch to join us, I ended up wedged between them. That was a good thing because I wasn’t sure if I could have remained sitting upright on my own. While Simon was busy unbuckling the cuffs, I leaned into Jack, and he planted a last, almost platonic kiss on my nose. I smiled up at him, then closed my eyes, happy to finally get control back over my arms.
The cuffs had been comfortable enough to leave my wrists completely unharmed, but the entire time my arms had remained pulled back, ending with protesting and slightly strained muscles in my upper arms that were in dire need of a massage right now. Watching me roll my shoulders and try to work the kinks out of my muscles for a moment, Simon nudged my knee.
“Come on, scoot over.”
I skeptically eyed the offered place in front of him between his knees, then did what he suggested, because getting weirdly conscious about us both being naked and covered in sweat—among other things—felt like pure hypocrisy. His touch was gentle but deft, and I let out a truly unapologetic groan when his fingers found the right spots.
Jack snickered, which begged for physical retaliation, but that would have required me to get up or even open my eyes again, and that was not going to happen right now.
“You, shut up,” I ground out, then tried to stifle another equally offensive sound when Simon increased the pressure. “That feels so fucking good.”
“That’s what she said,” Jack continued to goad me, and when I did turn my head and sent him a veritable glare, he grinned and got to his feet slowly. “I’m calling dibs on the first shower. Besides, the way you both look, you’re not going anywhere right now, anyway.”
I tensed, ready to jump up and go after Jack, but Simon swept his hands up over my shoulders and onto my back, and any incentive I’d ever had to move again in my life dissipated. Letting my head loll forward, I relaxed again, keeping my arms braced on his knees.
Silence settled as he kept working my muscles, but it was a comfortable, companionable kind of silence without a trace of awkwardness. I couldn’t remember if Simon and I had ever shared a moment like this, but doubted it. Almost dozing off contentedly was more something I did cozied up to Jack, when he wasn’t getting under my skin for once. I definitely liked this new kind of intimacy.
“Feeling better now?” Simon eventually broke the silence as his fingers slid down my still aching arms again.
“Yup,” I replied, because that was about the extent of my vocabulary right then.
I felt his soft laugh more through his touch than heard it.
“Still not quite back yet?”
“Hm,” I hummed in agreement, a happy smile on my face. His hands started to wander back up to my shoulders, then down my sides, not quite coincidentally skimming the outsides of my breasts. That turned my smile into something different, but I was too lost in the haze to care about reacting. I felt him shift behind me, then he pulled me against his chest before his hands resumed their idle tours down to my partly spread thighs.
&n
bsp; His cheek was warm where it pressed against mine as he put his chin up on my right shoulder, and I snuggled deeper into him, maximizing the contact. I wasn’t quite sure what his hands were up to—mostly stroking my skin, too soft to dig into the muscles but also not in a terribly intimate way—but I didn’t feel like protesting.
“I think we have something to talk about now,” he eventually prompted, underlining his words with just a hint more pressure right above my knees.
Reluctantly I let my eyes drift open, but the ceiling above me didn’t really yield any answers.
“You mean about where we’ll go from here?”
“Obviously.”
“Well, a shower would be nice,” I joked, then tried to sit up, but my muscles were disinclined to obey.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” he chided me gently while his hands moved up my thighs again.
Oh, I did, but with a twinge of anticipation now peeking through the languid post-coital haze, I was reluctant to answer. Quite the tease, he stopped inches away from my pussy, then slid his hands toward my knees again. I let out a partly frustrated breath but really, I hadn’t been that physically and emotionally satisfied in ages—it was hard to hold any sort of grudge right now. Besides, I wasn’t even sure if my body would have responded favorably to stimulation, with a nice but distinct kind of soreness spreading from my genitalia.
“I can’t deny that this has been fun,” I agreed, then laughed softly. “More like amazing, but then you know that yourself. You don’t need your ego stroked by me.”
“Need, no, but stroking is always welcome,” he murmured into my ear, making me shiver. Bastard wasn’t playing fair, but then I didn’t mind that much, either.
“Look who’s talking,” I huffed back when his hands—again!—stopped shy of truly interesting territory and wandered off once more.
He laughed softly, but the sound didn’t hold the condescension I’d been waiting for, just genuine amusement.
“My offer still stands. You want more, you know where to get it.”
I considered that for a moment, even though I felt like I’d already reached a decision somewhere between when he’d switched the flogger for his hands.
“And if I only want to be the filling in your sandwich again, without a spicy chaser?”
The analogy made him laugh, and my stomach rumbled embarrassingly.
“I’m sure that Jack wouldn’t have anything against that. I certainly don’t.”
“But?”
Another chuckle.
“But I have a feeling that you won’t be content with that alone.”
I both hated and loved that he knew me so well. Hated because, well, the stubborn part of me still wasn’t ready to accept that I might need something where I couldn’t solely rely on myself—anything for that matter, even if sex was usually a two person minimum thing—and loved for the obvious reasons.
“I don’t even know if I’ll have the time,” I offered, the next best excuse.
“Doesn’t matter if you come over once a week, or once a month. You know that I have very few fixed appointments in my schedule, and when I know that there’s a chance that you’ll drop by later, I can work around my deadlines, too. The goal is to subtract from your workload, not add to it. Don’t use that as a flimsy excuse just because you’re getting cold feet.”
Was that it? I really couldn’t say.
“Exactly how much commitment to this would you require from me?”
Needing to see his reaction, I finally turned my head and got rewarded with a somewhat twisted but still pleasant smile.
“Not much, if you want to keep things casual, which seems the best option considering your time constraints. Vanity makes me want to ask you not to have sex with anyone else in the meantime, but if you keep your tests up to date, I can work with that, too. Besides that, nothing I can think of. You’re new, and all things considered I would keep things mostly to the physical aspects, anyway, so there’s not much else involved.”
“What about you?”
Amusement flashed in his eyes, but he carefully kept it out of his tone.
“Besides what living in the same house with Jack might imply, I’m not really the guy to sleep around. I find it emotionally draining to have more than one sub at a time, and if you do show up a couple times a month, that more than covers my imminent sexual needs, so I wouldn’t even be interested in getting some action elsewhere.”
That was likely the weirdest—and best argued—statement of fidelity I’d ever heard in my life. Not that I had much experience with such things, but still. Very Simon.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” I pointed out, another obstacle occurring to me.
Now his grin could only be described as smug.
“Yeah, that’s why I do the planning and you just show up to get fucked.”
“Very funny.”
“But quintessentially true.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I remained silent, but Simon obviously wasn’t done yet.
“Stop worrying about the fact that I have more experience under my belt than you do. Unless you’re in a romantic relationship and explore together, it’s always easier when one partner can lead the other. The only problem I see is that you’re as stubborn as a mule, but I’m sure I’ll find a way to whip that right out of you.”
“Literally or figuratively?”
“That’s entirely up to your pain tolerance.”
It wasn’t trepidation exactly that made me lick my lips.
“Okay, then let’s see where this goes?”
“Let’s. And I fully agree with what you said before. You really do need that shower now.”
Laughing, I pushed his hands away, then got laboriously to my feet. Joints popped and muscles I’d forgotten I even had ached. The worst twinge came from where he’d pinched me, though, and when I absentmindedly rubbed that spot on my ass, Simon laughed softly.
“Next time, if you pull a stunt like that, you’ll have more to show than a little ouchie,” he pointed out.
“Is that a warning or a challenge?”
Now his laugh was anything but soft.
“Neither—just an observation. I’m well aware that you had no intention whatsoever to beg for anything, and if you keep that conviction up, things will get a lot harder for you than they have to be.”
Maybe that should have scared me or made me laugh because it did sound kind of ridiculous, but fascination and excitement were what I felt welling up inside of me.
“We’ll see. If anyone can make me beg, I’m sure it will be you.”
The look he sent me let me know that, yes, he would, but he left it at that. The shower shut off at the other end of the house, giving me a good excuse not to linger, which was probably for the best. I really did need that shower, and with what Simon had just dangled in front of my nose, I wouldn’t have to rely on my right hand to find a cure for that itch—and part of me wanted to jump him right then and there.
The shower was one of the best in my life, and without a doubt one of the most needed. I spent an unholy amount of time just standing under the hot spray, letting the water sluice away the evidence left by our recent activities.
As I’d expected, the general area of my genitals felt sore, but not in a bad way. My ass—inside and out—had definitely borne the brunt, but I felt kind of proud rather than grumpy. Nothing a little thoughtful application of lotion wouldn’t take care of, and I’d keep the fond memories for the rest of my life.
After drying off, I spent a few futile moments wrestling with my hair, but between Simon’s penchant for grabbing it and the lack of conditioner, it was a lost cause. Sweeping the long, black strands up into a messy bun was my only saving grace. I hesitated a moment in front of the mirror, staring at my own reflection. Somehow I felt different, but the woman staring back at me still looked the same. Same dirty hazel eyes that Brad Champs had called weird in seventh grade, same even features that no one had y
et composed any sonnets about, and hopefully never would. Maybe there was a slightly feverish glint in my eyes, but I was ready to chalk that up to my own perception. It made me wonder how many people I passed at work each day who spent their Saturday afternoons rutting around with their best friends.
Quite frankly, I really didn’t care.
While Simon was the last to grab a shower, I joined Jack in the living room. As expected, he was busy cleaning up, his neat-freak OCD even overshadowing his need to get dressed. Then again, it was Jack we were talking about here, so I shouldn’t have been surprised that he was busy scrubbing the floor in front of the sofa wearing just his boxers.
“You’ve decided to become a more permanent installment on Simon’s cock, I hear?” he observed from his perch on the floor.
“Do you still wonder sometimes why I hit you when you say shit like that?” I retorted, and sat down on one of the high stools by the breakfast bar.
“Never,” he laughed, then straightened, apparently finished with getting rid of the evidence of our debauchery.
I spent a moment admiring the results of all the hours of workout he did each week that Simon and I usually teased him about. For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel remotely sleazy about doing so.
“See something you like?” Jack drawled, coming closer.
“Yeah, I could use someone to do just that to my kitchen, too,” I shot back, a beatific smile on my face.
Snorting, he stored away his cleaning supplies, then took the seat beside me.
“Are you avoiding my question, or does all this ripped man-flesh distract you too much? I can get dressed if you need it.”
“That was a question? I thought it was just another observation of yours that deserved a well-aimed punch.”
“Oh, you wound me!”
“Not yet, but keep going and I will.”
His shit-eating grin was too good to resist, and I felt myself smiling despite of myself.
