by Jane Jamison
When his fingers grazed over the top of her mound, she fumbled with her bottle and almost upset it. Seth moved it away from her.
“Keep talking as normally as you can.” The lust on his face was unmistakable. “Keep everything above your waist just as it is. We don’t want any Harry Met Sally moments.”
What did that movie have to do with anything? She had a vague memory of Sally seated at a table with her head thrown back in ecstasy, but that was as far as her brain function would take her.
Aaron’s fingers dropped lower to brush over her pussy lips. Her throat grew tight, restricting her air flow.
“No. You have to stop.” Her breath was whispery, without real conviction.
“Do you really want us to stop, baby?”
She struggled to keep the truth locked inside her, but couldn’t. “No.”
Seth moved his hand to dive below the leg trim of her panties. “Let your legs fall to the side, little sub.”
Little sub. She could get used to being called that.
She started to protest, but again, she couldn’t find the words. Instead, she shut her eyes, unable to think of anything other than their hands on her sensitized skin. Their breaths were against her ears, murmuring seductive words. Words she’d longed to hear. Words that would get rid of any resistance and make her theirs. She yielded to their commands and moved her legs apart. As soon as she did, relief flooded her, bringing along with its existence the sweet joy of knowing that she pleased them.
Aaron slipped his fingers between her folds. Her heart thudded faster in her chest. She grabbed her napkin with both hands and twisted it.
When he put two fingers into her pussy, she couldn’t help but let out a small cry. He stopped, but left his fingers inside her. She clenched her teeth, then did the same with her muscles to keep him from leaving her.
“Easy, baby. We wouldn’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.” He gave a low, sin-filled chuckle. “Or would we? Now open your eyes.”
She did, her instinct to obey him overriding her common sense to make them stop. They’d only stop if she stood up, and her trembling legs wouldn’t have supported her. Her mouth parted and she flicked her tongue over her lips.
“Don’t do that, baby. That drives me crazy. If you do it again, I’m not sure I can keep from fucking you right here, right now.”
“He’s right, sweetheart, although it’d be worth getting thrown in jail to do you.” Seth cradled his head on his hand again, then gave her a wicked smile when he found her clit and pinched it. “Licking your lips is sexy as hell. You’re sexy as hell.”
She let out another small cry, then bit her bottom lip, determined not to let it happen again. Was she really sitting in a bar and letting two men she barely knew finger her? The danger of it thrilled her, daring her to explore that naughty side of her. She’d known it was there, had even had brief glimpses of it in real life, but for the most part, she’d kept it buried deep inside her.
“Keep your eyes open and try to talk to us every so often. Make it seem like nothing’s going on. Unless you want everyone to know.”
What would the others think of her if they knew? Would they think her disgusting? A slut? Or would they, like many of the women, wish they were doing the same thing?
Seth rubbed his middle finger over her clit as Aaron started working his fingers in and out, then back again for more delicious torture. Her body tensed, then released a little as the pleasure that bordered on pain had her throbbing.
Twisting the napkin wasn’t enough. Instead, she dropped it, then brought her hands down to take hold of the chair’s arms. Her hands worked the hard wood, squeezing and releasing her hold as she ran her hands up and down their length. She slid lower in the chair, no longer caring what she looked like. All that mattered was their hands on her. If only she had the nerve to ask Seth to crawl under the table. She imagined him doing so, slipping between her legs to press his mouth to her clit.
“That’s it, baby. Pretend you’ve got our cocks in your hands.”
She did and rubbed her hands faster along the smooth surface. Their cocks wouldn’t be as smooth, their skin loser and covered with veins that would slide across her palms.
They tortured her, rubbing and plunging their fingers into her. Her pussy clenched around Aaron’s fingers and wetness swamped her, covering both of them.
“Check it out, little sub. People are watching more than ever now.”
Alarm pricked her neck, but she wouldn’t, couldn’t, stop. Instead, she looked to the side and found the brunette.
She knows what we’re doing and she wishes she was me.
“It’s hot, isn’t it, baby?” Aaron flicked his tongue into her ear in a quick, lust-producing stab. “Having people watch is fun. It’s even better when you can really let go and fuck while others watch. Don’t worry. We’ll try that sometime.”
The craving she’d had for them had tripled, swirling outward from her pussy to roar its way through her body. Her hands worked overtime, clenching and re-clenching. She knew she was giving them as much pleasure by obeying them as they were giving her. Their fingers were tools for her self-indulgence, their voices instruments of seduction. She was under their command, ready to do anything they asked of her, and she loved it.
“Do you like my fingers inside your pussy?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re going to love my cock in its place. And your breasts?”
She found Aaron’s gaze lowering to her blouse. “Yes?”
“I’m going to fuck your breasts, too. After I tie you up and spank your pretty ass until you scream for me to fuck you. Do you want that, baby?”
“Yes. More than anything.” Although she knew she’d spoken, a part of her couldn’t believe what she’d said. Couldn’t believe what she was doing.
The sensations tumbling around her stomach drove her to the point right before she knew she’d climax. Seth rubbed harder, pinching then twisting her clit. Aaron, his arm flexing in his short-sleeve T-shirt, added a third finger to her pussy. She couldn’t do anything more than hold on for dear life as her body stiffened, readying for the release.
“That’s it, little sub.” Seth tried to appear nonchalant, but his expression grew harder, agonized. “God, how I want to eat you out.”
She mewled and hoped no one heard the sound. “Please.”
“Please what? Do you want me to get under the table and suck on your clit?”
Oh, God. How she wanted him to do exactly that! Had he known what she was thinking only a few moments earlier? She was desperate, her body aching from the need to have their cocks inside her. “Please. Let’s go outside. Or to the restroom. Anywhere. I’m begging you.”
“I think she’s on the edge, bro.”
Aaron gave her a sweet kiss on the lips. “I think you’re right. I can feel her juices all over my hand.”
She was ready for them to remove their hands so she could stand up. But only if she could follow them anywhere where she could feel their bodies next to hers.
“That’s not for tonight. I want to see you come, baby. Right here.” He took her by the chin and turned her face toward his. “Come for me, baby. Do it when I tell you. Are you ready?”
“Please. I can’t stand it any longer.”
“Good. Then come. Right…now.”
She’d waited for his command, and was relieved to let the wildness inside her go. Her body shuddered as the climax racked through her. Their fingers stayed on her as her clit pulsed again and again, sending her cream flowing.
She couldn’t have held back the cry if her life had depended on it. It started out softly then grew, but just as she was about to scream, Aaron covered her mouth with his. Her scream swept into his mouth, muted but still loud enough that she knew the other people had to have heard. Aaron’s arm wrapped around her as her body jerked, the spasms of the orgasm overwhelming her and giving her no choice but to lean against him for support.
His tongue swept around
her mouth, teasing hers while dampening her cry. She clutched at both of them, grabbing hold of their shirts to keep her body from sliding out of the chair and onto the floor. Her body was in control now, no longer subject to either her commands or theirs. Her orgasm tumbled outward, shredding her apart like sharp blades cutting down her defenses.
Seth leaned back, but kept his hand on her leg as her trembles slowed down. Breaking the kiss for air, she slumped back against her chair and struggled to regain control of her breathing.
“Look around the room, baby.”
She did as Aaron told her, and saw that many of the patrons had their intense gazes locked on them, their eyes glittering with need. Many of their expressions were stark naked with envy. Turning loose of their shirts, she looked away. And yet, surprising herself, she didn’t feel any embarrassment. Instead, all she felt was pride and joy.
“Do you believe it now, sweetheart? You’re a perfect little sub.”
Trying and failing to keep her hand from shaking, she took her beer and dragged in a small sip. She swallowed hard, then put it back on top of the table. “I’m not a submissive, if that’s what you’re talking about.”
Seth and Aaron sat back, leaning away from her. Seth smiled, wiped his hand on a napkin, then caressed her cheek. “You can try and deny it all you want, but what you did, how you reacted to us, shows that you’re a natural submissive.”
She didn’t like the word. It conjured up images of weak women. Women with chains on. Women who were more like slaves than true lovers. “No, I’m not. This was something different.”
“Then what was it, little—” Seth stopped, then gave her a smug smile. “What was it, Beth? How was it different? You followed our commands, you let us give you pleasure in public. You did that because you wanted to please us.”
“I don’t know why I let you, but it doesn’t mean that I’m a submissive.” Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe they were right. She’d loved listening to them tell her what to do. It was straight out of one of her fantasies. But did that mean she’d like having them control her? That she’d enjoy not having a say in what they did?
“We’ll see.” Aaron wiped his hand on a napkin, then stood. Seth joined him.
She felt bereft, as though she’d somehow displeased them. A pain hit her in her gut and twisted, torturing her. She wanted to take back her denial.
Their bodies seemed even larger than before. She could feel a tug of craving for them and hated that they were already leaving. She searched for something to say to keep them there. “Don’t we need to talk more about the calendar?”
“I don’t think so.” Seth leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Let us know when and where and we’ll be there.”
She touched her fingers to her cheek. It wasn’t the kind of kiss she’d wanted from him, but it would have to do. For now.
“Until then”—Aaron took her bottle and drained the remaining beer—“if you want us, just give us a call.”
“But—”
They either didn’t hear her or didn’t care as they strode out of the bar.
What just happened?
They said to call them if I need them? But I need them right now.
Before she could think straight, she’d already reached her hand into her purse and fished out her phone. How would she call them? She didn’t have their number. Instead, she dialed Tyler Dilson’s number. Next to Ruthie, he was her best friend.
“Hey, gorgeous, how are you doing?”
She couldn’t stay in the bar any longer. Not with all the women glaring at her. Snatching up her purse, she walked to the exit as gracefully as she could, hoping that there weren’t telltale signs on her clothes. “I’m fine, but I need your help.”
“What’s it about? Men or work?”
She smiled. Tyler had a way of getting straight to the point. Not for the first time, she wondered why some great man hadn’t snatched him up.
“Both.”
“Then lay it on me, hon. You know I’m your man.”
“Yeah, you are.” Sort of. “Do you think you could let me borrow your studio and equipment? It’s for a good cause.”
“Hmm. You know I’m very particular about my stuff. What’s the good cause?”
“Me.”
“Oh, in that case, sure. Why didn’t you say so?”
Chapter Four
“Firefighters are among our first line of defense. With heroic bravery, they rush in to save lives and property. They are our true heroes.”
After speaking with Tyler, then dashing over to his studio to talk more about the calendar, Beth had come home and had collapsed on the couch. She took off her blouse, bra and skirt and got comfortable. Her body hadn’t stopped humming since she’d left the bar. Even an hour later, Tyler had noticed, mentioning that she seemed “buzzed like she’d downed a whole bottle of wine.” She’d tell him just as she’d tell Ruthie at some point, but for right now, hers was a secret she’d keep in her heart to enjoy on lonely nights.
Tyler Dilson was a great friend to have. Lots of girls wanted a gay “husband,” but Tyler was so much more. He was the one who’d helped her learn more about the craft of photography. He was the one who’d held her hand as much as Ruthie had during past heartaches. Tyler had a big heart and would do almost anything for anyone. She just wished she had more friends like him.
Then again, wasn’t she luckier than a lot of people? She had both Ruthie and Tyler as her good friends. The two were very much alike with their wacky sense of humor, and they were as loyal as any girl could ask for. Both had grown up in poor neighborhoods, but that hadn’t gotten them down. Instead, they’d worked hard toward their dreams while helping her to achieve hers.
Stretching out, she held the surge of lust inside her for her to relive, then flipped through the channels, barely paying attention to the shows. Suddenly, she was back on the original channel when the image of a firefighter decked out in his khaki pants and yellow jacket turned toward the camera. He held his helmet crooked in his arm and his face was covered with soot. The home behind him smoldered into a black pile of charred boards and stone. The documentary was about firefighters and their illustrious history.
Her cat, Mr. Mouser, lay at her feet, lazily swatting at dust particles floating in the air. His black fur shone under the light of the overhead lamp, which made the patch of white on his forehead stand out even more than usual. She’d rescued him from the side of the road where someone had dumped him and three of his siblings. Keeping him for herself, she’d found homes for the rest of the kittens. Although he’d never caught more than a dust bunny, she’d still remained optimistic that, should a mouse ever make it into her apartment, he’d live up to his name.
“You wouldn’t believe what I did today, Mr. Mouser. Hell, even I don’t believe it.” Or maybe she should say that she couldn’t believe what Seth and Aaron had done to her. If anyone else had tried the same thing, she would’ve slapped them silly and screamed for help. Instead, she’d spread her legs and had thrilled with every second of it.
The documentary went on, showing firemen standing in an engine bay. They were in various modes of dress with some in full uniform and others with only their pants and boots on. She’d never realized before how sexy suspenders could look.
I wonder if Seth and Aaron wear suspenders. Were all firefighter uniforms the same?
If she could summon up the courage as well as a plausible excuse, she’d make a trip to the station and see if she could find out.
Mmm. That one kind of looks like Aaron.
And if she squinted at the man standing next to him, she could imagine that he was Seth.
Her hand slid down her body, then under her panties, recreating the feeling that she’d had when they’d slipped their fingers under the lacy material. If she had the nerve to let them finger her in a bar, didn’t that mean she’d have enough nerve to let them introduce her to a little bondage play? After all, they’d made a good point, the same po
int she’d thought of earlier. If she was going to photograph those kinds of scenes for the calendar, shouldn’t she know more about it?
Tyler had died laughing when she’d told him what she had planned. It had taken her several minutes before she’d convinced him that she was serious. His disbelief had irritated her even though he hadn’t meant anything bad by it. And she couldn’t blame him for laughing. She’d never done anything that adventurous, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have it in her, did it? Was she so boring that no one could believe she’d participate in a little outside-of-the-vanilla-box sex shoot?
She slipped her finger between her pussy folds and lightly brushed over her smooth mons. Had they liked her smooth mons? Or did they prefer a strip of hair?
She studied the firefighters on the screen. They really did look like her men. Not that they were her men. But if she didn’t call them that in public, then what harm was it to think of them that way?
She rubbed, first circling around her clit and imagining that it was Aaron’s tongue instead of her finger. Running her other hand to her breast, she closed her eyes and pictured Seth devouring her nipple. Both men had turned her on simply by nibbling at her ears, so she knew that having Seth suck on her breast would make her even hornier.
Her own hands were a pitiful replacement for theirs, but the heat was slowly coming back to her. The longer, the harder she pictured them, the hotter she became. Like a whirling pool of lust, her ache for them rode into her, blazing a trail from her pussy to the rest of her. She could see their eyes, their hair, the hardness of their bodies. She remembered how they’d felt next to her, how the air had enclosed around them, letting her forget that they were in a public place. And yet, once she’d remembered, once she’d seen the woman watching her, that had only served to draw more power to the whirlpool. She moaned, vaguely aware that she’d kicked a snarling Mr. Mouser off the couch as she turned onto her back and spread her legs.
Seth’s caramel-colored eyes burned into her like cool lights of desire. He drew his body on top of hers, taking hold of her breasts, then slicking his tongue along her skin, setting up a wave of goose bumps.
