by Eden Myles
“You can look,” she told me in that lilting, playful voice of hers, “so long as I can look too.”
She wrangled my T-shirt over my head, then set to work on my jeans. She worked quickly, shucking my jeans down my long, lean legs, followed by my boxer briefs. I wasn’t a “naked person”—even in high school I’d found it hard to change into my gym uniform in front of the other guys. And the small handful of men I’d made love with had seen me in various states of undress, but seldom full-body nudity. It wasn’t that I thought I was especially ugly, but it made me feel vulnerable and somehow breakable, and I hated that.
It took a lot of courage not to cover myself as Jazzy Rose looked me over. She smiled with genuine approval. “You have a really nice body, Ash. I like guys with a more natural physique.” Her eyes lingered on my partial erection. My last boyfriend had liked how well I was hung. “Are you bi-curious, by any chance, or just straight up gay?”
I shook my head. “Not sure. I liked girls in high school, but when I came here to the city, I found I liked guys too.” It was hard for me to admit that; my conservative Iowan parents weren’t exactly big supporters of same-sex relationships, and I sometimes wondered if I didn’t like guys just to spite their morals.
She nodded, took my hand, and led me up the stairs to the tub. “When Mr. Chase told me about you, the only thing I was worried about was whether you’d be too shy or…you know, turned off…to make love with me at some point.”
We sank slowly into the hot, frothy, hip-deep water, and I immediately felt a lot of the tension leaving my body. The foamy bath salts smelled dreamily of lavender and vanilla. “Does Mr. Chase want us to…perform for him or something?” It sounded kinky, but also kind of fun, like making a porn that no one but us would ever see.
“He might,” Jazzy Rose admitted. “He likes to watch couples make love, if it’s tastefully done.”
“Like porn,” I guessed. I was really getting to know Mr. Chase’s wild side, I decided!
She shook her head. “Mr. Chase is a gentleman. It’s not like that, Ash.”
I wasn’t sure what she meant, so I said, “So if he wanted us to do that…you’d be okay with doing it with me?”
“Yes, of course. I like you.” She flicked some bubbles at me and laughed.
I flicked them back at her and they caught in her hair, making her shake them out of her short, black bob.
“I’m glad to see you’re getting along well,” Mr. Chase said as he stepped back into the bathroom, dressed in only a long, oriental dressing gown. It was open, giving us a nice view of his beautifully sculpted chest, rippling abs, and the thick, partially erect cock that bobbed as he approached us and climbed the stairs to the hot tub. He shed the robe and stepped into the hot, fragrant water to pull the both of us into his arms. He lowered his head and nuzzled and kissed the sides of our throats as we sank into the water together.
The two of us rubbed ourselves against him and waged a kind of friendly battle for attention as Mr. Chase ran his sudsy hands over our heads and down our backs. He kissed us soundly, each in turn, spreading his time evenly between us, probably to avoid jealousy. But Jazzy Rose mewled into his kisses, which made him give in to her demands, hold her tight against his body and running his soapy hands down her back and ass, which I thought was totally unfair of her.
When it came my turn again, he licked and sucked briefly at my mouth before turning me around and molding his beautiful body against the curve of my slippery back. He gave Jazzy Rose a command, and she knelt down before me and slid her delicate hands up my legs and over my lower belly and ribs. I felt my balls draw up tight against my body as my cock hardened for her. I tried to move closer to her, hoping she would touch me, but Mr. Chase held me in check, strong-arming me across the waist. “My companions can look at each other, but they mustn’t touch intimately unless I command it,” he told me. “Touching you is my privilege.” His tongue traced the rim of my ear before snagging the lobe in his teeth and nibbling his way down the side of my neck. I moaned an agreement.
I was awash in shivers and gooseflesh as his hands slid up and down my body and finally closed around my nipples. He pinched them gently, rolling them in his fingers, and I groaned; it was the first time I realized I was so sensitive there. Both of my newfound lovers went to work on me then, soaping up their hands and massaging my muscles and flesh, touching and caressing every inch of me, Mr. Chase intimately, Jazzy Rose less so.
Mr. Chase used some sweet-smelling shampoo and one of the detachable shower heads to wash the grease and grit out of my hair. “He’s a bit of a mess, isn’t he?” he growled softly to Jazzy Rose against the back of my neck, making my skin shiver from just the touch of his voice.
But the girl on her knees before me only smiled up. “He’s just a work in progress.”
“Is that what you call it, my dear?” Mr. Chase laughed.
Jazzy Rose reached for a citrusy bath gel and squeezed some into her hands. She started soaping me up, beginning with my legs and working her way steadily up my body. I squirmed under her ministrations—no one had given me a bath by hand since I was five years old—and she laughed and said, “He’s ticklish…and shy.”
“Shyness is good,” Mr. Chase said as his hands explored me, his touch gentle but firm. “It implies a certain level of innocence.”
She soaped up my belly and then my chest, running her learned, artist’s fingers in swirls over the blond hair there, but avoided my genitals. Meanwhile, Mr. Chase worked some gel into my back, kneading my muscles steadily until all the tension left my body and I was warn and sedate in his arms. He soaped the slope of my back and then boldly cupped and massaged my ass. He kissed my back as he spread my ass cheeks and rubbed gel gently but thoroughly between my legs. As he soaped up my asshole and then moved to lather my perineum and scrotum, my hips started rocking in response, the sensation making me hornier than ever.
I found myself gripping the edge of the tub and groaning low in my throat as I begged him to fuck me right then and there. I never thought I’d say such slutty things, but I couldn’t wait to feel him hard inside me, pounding against my ass.
“Soon,” he said, his voice soft but steely in my ear. “You’ve seen our medical history in those files I sent you, so you know we’re clean, but since we don’t have your history yet, we won’t be making love with you without protection. I must think of Jazzy Rose. You understand.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. It was only good sense, after all. I knew I was clean; I had never had sex with either a man or a woman without protection, but there was no way for them to know that or be assured of it. And they didn’t know me well enough just yet to take me at my word. In a way, I admired how Mr. Chase was looking after Jazzy Rose’s health. I knew he would have done the same for me, were our situations reversed.
Don’t fall in love, I told myself, making that my mantra. I had a long history behind me of falling for someone and falling hard. Two dates and I’d find myself daydreaming about life in the suburbs with some beautiful hunk, buying a house and a dog, adopting a son or daughter. I knew I was stupid and naïve, but I couldn’t help myself. I’d never been the easy-going, see-how-it-goes type of guy. I was more the go-like-a-house-on-fire type. But the problem with fire is, it burns itself out too quickly.
I wanted to enjoy this moment without all the stupid drama that was involved in today’s relationships. I turned around so I could wrap my well-soaped arms around Mr. Chase’s neck. He looked beautiful, wet and sleek, and I noticed he had chameleon eyes. They looked hard and green under the lights of the office, but here they seemed more a simmering amber color, like warm honey and flames. His mouth was full and kissable. Jazzy Rose embraced me from behind, her hands gently soaping my lower belly and the thatch of curly dark blond hair there, but going no further. Mr. Chase inclined his head and I submitted to his scorching, biting kiss. Our tongues slid wetly and sweetly over each other’s.
When we finally breathed again, I said, “If I get t
ested and give you my medical records, we can all be together, right?”
“Yes, of course.” Mr. Chase cupped my ass and held me against the rigid front of his body. I could feel the hardness of our erections sandwiched between us. “I want you to. I want to claim that beautiful ass of yours with no barriers between any of us. I want to fill you with my seed.”
His words—both erotic and poetic—made me shiver as my lovers went back to kissing and licking me, front and back. Jazzy Rose drew her tongue down the slope of my back, from the shivery nape of my neck all the way to the base of my spine, but, again, she stopped when she reached the crack of my ass, and I felt a wave of disappointment. I hoped that she and I could be intimate at some point in the near future.
Mr. Chase used his knee to spread my legs, and then his hands slid over the jumpy muscles of my lower belly and finally took my fully erect cock in his hand, which fulfilled at least some of my rampant, heart-pounding lust. He soaped the length of it, slowly, gently, working from the root to the tip and then back again, the firm, uncompromising touch of his hand sparking a new wave of warm, drunken desire coursing through my lower belly. He gripped my testes in his hand, rolling them roughly until I groaned, then slid his fingers along my perineum before fingering my asshole. His free hand gripped my hip while two of his slippery fingers hooked inward, rubbing the quivering inside of my body.
I cried out against his lips as he pumped his fingers in and out of me.
“Like that, my dear?” he asked, his voice husky with desire.
“Feels good,” I murmured, drunk on the things he was doing to me.
“But you mustn’t come until I say.”
Soon three fingers were deep inside me, opening me up, controlling me, training me to take his enormous hard-on. My legs trembled and I looped my arms around Mr. Chase’s neck to keep myself upright while I thrust in time with his fingers. I gasped, my breath coming in increasingly shorter spurts as the pressure of his fingers quickened and finally teased a sudden orgasm out of me. The pressure was just there, unbearable at the base of my spine, and then I felt myself go with a lunge, shamelessly jetting pearls of come against Mr. Chase’s belly.
“Sorry,” I said, but it wasn’t enough.
Mr. Chase’s eyes darkened and he stopped finger fucking me to reach for my face, pinching my chin in his fingers. “You disobeyed me, Ash. You need to be punished for that.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it with me.” His voice was a low, breathy growl that made goose pimples break out in a rash across my back and shoulders. “You cannot be so easily forgiven. You can only be punished for disobedience to your gentleman, as Jazzy Rose knows all too well.”
I didn’t ask Jazzy Rose what she had done to be “punished,” but after my mistake, with the mood in the room darker and more intense, we worked on just soaping up and getting clean, then Mr. Chase sent the two of us in towels into his bedroom to wait for him there.
Like the rest of the house, the furnishings in the bedroom were a dark mahogany, but the linens white and fresh and minty-smelling. Mr. Chase had a huge, king-sized sleigh bed. Jazzy Rose dried off and wrung out her hair, then dropped her towels and hurried to climb naked onto the bed. I followed her example.
I finally found the courage to ask her about her disobedience and she looked nervous and said, “This one time I changed perfumes without asking him and he wouldn’t let me come for a week.”
Considering his sudden change of moods in the bathtub, I believed her.
Mr. Chase showed up only a few moments later, again dressed in his silken dressing gown. He gave me a stern look before going to the antique hope chest at the foot of the bed and withdrawing a length of braided black cord and a martinet. He then joined us amidst the sheets. “Time for you to find out what happens when you displease your gentleman, Ash,” he said. His voice was even, not angry, but definitely no-nonsense, and he flicked the martinet as he ordered me to the foot of the bed on my knees.
“You are most certainly a work in progress,” he said as he used the black cord to bind my wrists behind my back and affix them to the Shaker slats of the footboard. “Consider this a ‘soft punishment’ for disobeying me. I’m willing to cut you some slack, Ash, but only because you’re new to the rules.”
I wondered what a ‘hard punishment’ was and if I would ever have the misfortune—or fortune—of finding out. When he finished, he grasped my chin and dragged my face forward. I felt the strain in my bound arm. “You won’t disobey again, will you?” he said.
I felt my cock stir at his proximity, but he briefly squeezed it with his free hand and I flinched and shook my head. “No.”
“No, what?” His green eyes seemed to pierce right through me and into my brain.
“No, sir.”
He kissed me for that, but only briefly. It wasn’t enough, and I groaned as he let me go and went to embrace the naked, gleaming wet Jazzy Rose, who gave me a smug look when she realized that, at least for the moment, he was all hers.
And she was. For the next twenty minutes they tortured me. She cooed and mewed and writhed for him as they knelt together on the coverlet and Mr. Chase rained sweet, sucking kisses on her lips and cheeks and chin and neck. It made me angrier and more jealous by the moment. He moved steadily and much too slowly down her body to her breasts, finally snagging a full, pert nipple in his big, perfect teeth. Jazzy Rose arched her back and thrust against the hand he’d planted between her legs as he sucked each areola and the surrounding flesh into his mouth one at a time and suckled and nibbled her until I could smell her arousal even from where I was tied up.
Finally, he pushed her down and climbed atop her, pinning her to the mattress. He fluttered kisses along her ribs and lower belly, finally burying himself between her legs, all the while watching me out of the corner of his eye. Jealousy and desire warred together, making my dick so hard it throbbed and pearls of precum formed at the bulbous head and spilled over. I pulled at the cords, growled at them, but they ignored me.
Mr. Chase thumbed Jazzy Rose’s dripping wet labia apart and licked and sucked at her pussy until she climaxed with a deep-throated cry, her entire lower body convulsing. He slinked back up her body, palmed her breasts, and speared her soundly with a single thrust of his hips, burying all glorious eight inches of himself deep inside her. Jazzy Rose came a second time with a cry, and this time they rode her orgasm together as Mr. Chase rocked deep inside her in time to her rhythm, gliding his engorged cock in and out of her in a way that made the muscles of my lower stomach quiver, a whimper catch in my throat, and more precum pour from the slit of my dick. Jazzy Rose whimpered and cried out as they came together. Mr. Chase grunted and lunged and then pulled out, coming in a pearly freshet against his courtesan’s wet and well-used sex.
After that, he untied me and told me what I needed to do if I wanted to feel him inside me tonight. After that show, I would have done just about anything. I crawled over Jazzy Rose’s prone body and kissed her sweetly parted lips and the side of her neck, sucking gently at it.
“My shy boy,” she giggled before pushing me back down her body.
“He’s not so shy now,” Mr. Chase laughed huskily and I felt my ears burn at the wanton way I was acting even as I licked at the spunk on her belly and then all around her come-soaked sex. Jazzy Rose moaned in appreciation and spread her legs, inviting me deeper. When I didn’t move fast enough to please her, Mr. Chase flicked the martinet and the leather flails slapped against the supersensitive skin of my ass. It hurt more than I’d anticipated, like the claws of some wildcat. I bent Jazzy Rose’s leg and hooked her knee over my shoulder, quickly licking along her slit and nosing inside her cunt for the sweet taste of our gentleman’s seed still there.
Mr. Chase left the bed briefly to fetch a foil-wrapped condom, then returned to grip me by the hips and push my head down so my mouth was once more buried in the warm, musky wetness between Jazzy Rose’s legs. He rubbed a sweet-smelling, p
epperminty lubricant along the line of my crack, then took his time lubing up my asshole, teasing his fingers in and out of me as he prepared me. I moaned at the delicious friction of his hands and my moans against Jazzy Rose’s sweet spot dragged yet another orgasm from her, which forced more of my gentleman’s come into my mouth. I licked and swallowed all his creamy seed down.
By then, Mr. Chase was hard again. He gripped my hips and rubbed his hard-on against me, then plunged his meaty cock deep inside my ass. The suddenness of it made me cry out, a low, loud groan of pleasure as his fat shaft filled me to capacity.
I shuddered and gripped the bedclothes with white-tipped fingers as Mr. Chase slammed his rock-hard cock in and out of me. He was relentless, pinning me to the mattress and fucking me hard into submission, working me up to what I thought would be a quick climax. But he gripped my cock in his hand near the end, arresting me. “Not until I come,” he hissed in my ear, and I worked hard to listen, to concentrate on eating out Jazzy Rose’s pussy while he worked my ass and made it his.
Soon we were all one, all connected, a writhing mass of heat and desire. With one final, massive thrust, I felt Mr. Chase come for the second time that evening, his balls slamming my ass as he went off inside me. He loosened his hold on my cock and I spurted uncontrollably between his fingers, emptying myself out over the comforter. The surge of my orgasm made me nip at Jazzy Rose’s clit, and the unexpected pressure made her climax a fourth time, her fingers clawing at my hair as she screamed her release.
I thought my punishment was over, but Mr. Chase pulled out and jerked me around by the hair, pushing my head down so my eyes were level with his still twitching cock. He pulled away the condom and came a third time against his own belly, drenching himself. He clutched the back of my neck, forcing my head between his legs. “Lick me clean,” he said, “and then I’ll forgive you.”
