“Not into pain?” Tristan looked down at her. “I still have a stripe or two from last weekend’s caning that beg to differ.”
“He’s not a Sadist; he told me so.”
“But…” Tristan trailed off and Judith looked up at him.
“Just because you’re a masochist, and he gives you what you need, doesn’t mean he’s a Sadist.”
Tristan stared at her, but a knock at the door drew their attention. “Breakfast in ten minutes!”
~*~
Tristan had slowly been working his way up to joining Judith and Michael in the basement. They’d never pressured him into it, merely extended the invitation, but after two weeks of him refusing, they’d stopped asking, and it… hurt.
They’d given up on him.
Then one day, when Michael and Judith were heading down the stairs to the basement, Tristan had plucked together the courage to speak up, and asked if he might come down and watch. Michael had appeared startled, but Tristan hadn’t missed the way Judith’s face had lit up.
Tristan had parked himself on the couch and watched another man fuck his wife. It had been uncomfortable at first, but after the first scene, when they’d joined him on the couch and Judith had kissed him sweetly before settling into her aftercare, she held his hand in her lap while cuddling on Michael’s lap, and his reservations had fled.
It would have been easy for Michael to resent this intrusion into their time, but Michael had just given him a half-smile and an approving nod before laying his cheek on the top of Judith’s head and laying an arm on the back of the couch behind Tristan.
Since then, Tristan had joined them in their sessions in the basement. On occasion, Michael would help Judith to the couch and assist her onto Tristan’s lap, before gathering a warm, damp cloth to clean away sweat or semen, or a bottle of water or chocolate to revive her. A few times, when Michael had looked as wiped out as Judith, Tristan had ushered them both to the couch and fed them both chocolate and water, and Tristan had glowed with Michael’s praise afterward.
But Tristan always just… watched.
Perhaps voyeurism was one of his kinks?
Perhaps it was just Michael and Judith.
~*~
Michael’s Harley rumbled into the parking area behind the pub in the Village. All the parking spaces were taken, even on this Thursday afternoon, but he grinned when he noticed that where two parking spaces met at an angle, there was a vacant wedge of real estate open in the corner. A car wouldn’t fit, but a bike just might.
He normally took his bike in to work during the week, weather permitting. He had little patience for heavy traffic, and there was something freeing about feeling the wind whip at his leather jacket. At least, after that incident with Judith’s car, he’d bought a spare helmet and now kept it in his saddle bag.
Michael twisted the key in the ignition, and the engine went silent. He kicked down the stand, and making sure the bike was stable, he dismounted. He pocketed his keys, checked for his phone and wallet, and headed for the pub.
Gabriel was waiting for him at a quiet table in the back, scrolling through his phone, a beer already shedding beads of condensation on the weathered wooden table. He looked up at Michael’s approach and smiled, pocketing his phone. “Hey, brother!” He grinned. He stood and greeted Michael with a back-patting hug.
“Hey,” Michael greeted his brother, then slid onto the bench seat opposite.
A waitress appeared, a notebook in hand. “Are you ready to order?”
Michael glanced at Gabriel, then back to the waitress. “A cider for me – keep the lemon. And I’d like a hake and chips basket.” The fish had looked pretty good when Tristan had ordered it.
“I’m still fine on my beer, but I’d like a basket of ribs and chips,” Gabriel ordered. “And some garlic bread.”
“Got it,” she smiled, and tucking the notebook and pen into her apron pocket, she answered a summons from another table a few rows down.
“You know, I can’t keep Caroline back forever.”
“Keep your wife back from what?”
“She wants to meet Judith. You didn’t think you could put my wife off forever, did you?”
“No,” Michael said.
“No? You have to admit, we’ve been exceedingly patient – it’s been at least two months since you told me about her, so you can’t very well say it’s too soon. Unless you broke up?”
I can just imagine asking Tristan if he’d mind me taking his wife to meet my family. As my girlfriend.
Yeah, that would go down well.
The only thing I can think of that he’d react worse to, is asking him to accompany me as my boyfriend.
“Hello… Earth to Michael…” Gabriel waved a hand in front of Michael’s face and gave him a quizzical look. “Where’d you go off to?”
Michael shook his head. “No, sorry, I can’t.”
“Why not? Didn’t you tell her about us? We only dance naked on the lawn at the full moon, I promise, and even then, we wait till the kids are asleep. We’ll contain the weirdness just this once – but bring her around! I told Caroline how happy you’ve been, and she wants to meet this woman.”
“No.”
“But why? She afraid to be seen in public with you?”
“No.” It’s not like we’re trying to keep her husband from finding out – he already knows.
“Oh good – for a minute I thought maybe she’s married.” At Michael’s flinch, Gabriel’s eyes went round. “Oh. My. God. Are you insane?”
This was a mistake.
Michael stood to leave, but Gabriel grabbed him around his wrist to stall him. “I’m sorry, Michael. Please sit; I don’t want to go back to years of not talking. Please.”
Michael sat reluctantly. The waitress arrived and placed their food and Michael’s cider down on the table. The last thing Michael felt like was to fake cheerfulness for random strangers, but he put on his best polite smile and lifted his cider to his lips.
“Thanks, that’s it for now,” Gabriel said politely, and the waitress left.
“I don’t feel like a lecture,” Michael said in a low voice.
“I know, I know,” Gabriel said. He released Michael’s hand and rubbed at his eyes. “I presume it’s serious, considering you know all the reasons not to get involved with another man’s wife as well as I do.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty serious. And I know you don’t approve.”
“So what’s the story – she married to an abuser or something?”
“Nothing like that; she loves him. And he loves her. I like him.”
“Fuck.” Gabriel’s eyes held sympathy. “You’re going to get hurt.”
“I know.” Let’s not mention that I’m falling in love with him too; one bombshell in a day is probably enough.
~*~
Chapter 17
Tristan sprawled on the couch, resting his hand holding a cold beer on his jean-clad knee. Normally, Michael enforced a strict no-alcohol rule in his dungeon, but since Tristan didn’t intend on playing, just wanted to be close to them while he unwound, Michael hadn’t said anything. Friday felt like the longest day in the week, perhaps especially so, when the students were dismissed at one-thirty, but staff had to stay for meetings and to catch up on admin. The term was coming to a close, and first-term exams were in full swing; at least Tristan had managed to do most of his marking at school, and he had no new Geography lessons to prepare.
The good news was that Samantha, the teacher on maternity leave, had confirmed that she was coming back for the start of the second term.
It felt good to just sit and relax and watch his beautiful wife first get teased to the point of sexual near-combustion, then ridden to orgasm.
And how fucked up is that?
This evening, Judith was bent over, her neck and wrists confined to the set of stocks that had been rolled to the centre of the scene area. A pair of jewelled nipple clamps sparkled on her breasts, a gold chain connecting the two; when Tr
istan had worn that pair last weekend, Michael had suspended a small weight from the chain, and Tristan had learnt to take his paddling without moving, lest the weight start swinging. A matching butt plug glinted from between her cheeks.
Michael was running his hands all over Judith’s body, like an expert horseman would to soothe a nervous horse. His hands stroked over her shoulders, flanks, and ass, bypassing the plug, then dipped his fingers into Judith’s pussy and rubbed her clit in slow, sensuous circles. Judith moaned and arched her back, wordlessly begging for more, but Michael withdrew his fingers and took hold of the butt plug, pulling it part-way out, almost to the widest circumference, before pushing it back in.
Michael stroked his way up her body again, running his hands slowly over her skin, and moved around the wooden stocks to stand before her. With a wicked grin at Tristan, he turned his attention back to her, lowered the zipper on his black jeans, and pulled out his hard cock.
Tristan hadn’t seen all that many erect cocks to compare Michael’s to. He had his own, of course, but not having an interest in porn, the only other penises he’d seen were at Angelus the one night, and flaccid ones at public urinals. Michael’s seemed of… respectable size, perhaps a little longer than his own. Tristan’s was ruler-straight, and stuck straight out from his body, but Michael’s had a gentle upwards curve.
“Open up, Princess,” Michael murmured, one thumb to her chin to tip her jaw downward, and put the head of his cock to her lips. Slowly, Michael fed her his cock, inch by inch, and when Tristan was certain Michael must have hit the back of her throat, he kept on going, one hand to Judith’s hair to hold her head steady. When he pulled his cock out, Tristan worried he’d pulled her tonsils out with it, but Judith just coughed and panted for a moment, before Michael pushed his dick back down her throat.
God, that’s hot. That dick, disappearing down her throat…
Tristan transferred his beer to his left hand, and his right hand strayed down to his lap to knead his stirring cock through his jeans. His jeans were rapidly becoming too confining.
Michael’s dick sawed in and out of her mouth for several seconds, before he pulled out again to let her breathe. He knelt before her, looking up into her face. “Good girl,” he murmured his approval. “Give me a colour.”
“Green. It’s green, sir.” Her voice was husky.
“Good girl,” he murmured again, then stood laboriously to run his hands slowly down her body again.
Michael grasped the edges of the exposed plug and pumped it in and out slowly a few times, just enough that the widest point of the plug popped in and out of her anus a few times. She moaned and panted at the feeling, but even from where Tristan was sitting, he could see that her pussy was dripping with arousal. Could smell it.
Tristan had been curious about the butt plugs ever since Michael had started plugging her two weeks before. It just seemed so… taboo. Yet, he wondered what it felt like, and if Judith’s reaction to the plug was any indication, perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.
But I’m not gay, dammit. I’m not supposed to like anything in my ass.
Not that he’d voice that curiosity out loud.
Michael eased the plug from Judith’s ass with a silent pop and limped to the small table a short distance away. Judith’s ass gaped for a moment, before slowly shrinking, and Michael returned with a small tube of lube, already coating his dick with the gel as he walked.
He squirted some lube around Judith’s anus, even aiming some in through the shrinking gape, then lined up his cock. He stroked her lower back and hips gently, reassuring her. “Are you ready Princess?” He asked. “Give me a colour.”
“G-green, sir,” she stammered. “I… you can go ahead.”
“I’ll be careful,” he assured her. He spread her ass cheeks apart, stretching her ass as he slowly pushed ahead.
From his vantage point, Tristan could see the head of Michael’s cock popping through the ring of her ass. Both Judith and Michael groaned at the sensation, and the sound went straight to Tristan’s cock; together with the visual, Tristan’s cock went from merely hard, to steel inside his jeans in an instant, threatening to burst the zip.
Michael advanced inch by inch until his hips were flush with her buttocks. Michael paused, allowing her to adjust, and stroked her hips gently. “Good, girl, taking it all,” he praised. He rocked gently against her hips to keep the sensation alive, then pulled almost all the way out, only to glide back in again.
Tristan groaned under his breath at the sight. Michael’s jeans had slid down his ass just enough that Tristan could see his buttocks clenching with every thrust into her, and Tristan imagined what it would feel like to strain into that tight hole. Any hole that was so tight it had to be stretched first had to feel amazing.
Tristan’s jeans were unbearably tight, and he undid the button and zip to take his cock in hand. He squeezed the base tight in his fist, harder than necessary, and relished the pain as he crushed the engorged tissue, then he relaxed his fist and worked his hand up and down the shaft, matching Michael’s rhythm.
Harder and faster, he worked his cock, working towards orgasm, yet holding it back, on the precipice, wanting to make the pleasure last. Judith and Michael’s moans filled the basement, an erotic duet, heightening his own arousal.
Harder and faster, Michael thrust, until he slammed in one final time. He grunted and clasped onto Judith’s hips as he flooded her bowels with cum, and Tristan realized that he’d been staring at Michael’s buttocks, not his wife.
Tristan ripped his stare away from Michael’s ass and met the Dom’s piercing gaze. At that moment, Tristan’s cock erupted, shooting semen onto his abs in violent spurts, and Tristan’s eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure.
When he surfaced from his lust-induced haze, he lifted his head to see Michael release Judith from the stocks. Michael steadied her as she straightened, then assisted her to the couch; Michael flopped down first, landing next to Tristan with a grunt, then pulled Judith into his lap sideways to cuddle against his chest.
Tristan pulled Judith’s legs across his lap, then took one delicate foot and started working his thumbs into her instep.
“Oh God,” Judith groaned. “I think I’ve died. First an orgasm, now I’m getting a foot-rub. This must be heaven.”
Tristan chuckled. “With the amount of times you’ve called out ‘oh God’, you might be right.”
Judith smiled softly, and her head resting on Michael’s shoulder, she studied Tristan. “I’m so glad you were here.” Tristan kneaded her foot some more, moving up to her calf, before Judith spoke up again. “Don’t you want to join in next time?”
Tristan could feel Michael stiffen next to him, and it was clear Judith felt it too. “You don’t have to if you’re not ready,” Michael said.
Tristan met Michael’s eyes; the doctor’s face had an unreadable expression.
Judith took Tristan’s hand in both hers and held it in her lap. “Didn’t you enjoy yourself?” She asked. “I saw you come.”
Tristan took a deep breath. “I enjoyed watching,” he admitted. “I never thought I would, but I did. But I think I’ll stick to watching, for now.”
Michael nodded, kissed Judith on her head, then lifted and transferred her to Tristan’s lap. “I’ll go start us some coffee,” he said, then pushed himself up to his feet and limped to the stairs.
~*~
Judith stared after Michael’s retreating back and felt an ache in her chest and tears welling up in her eyes.
“Hey, did I do something wrong?” Tristan asked gently.
“No, it’s not your fault.” Judith quickly wiped the tears away from her cheeks with the edge of her finger.
“Then what?”
“That man’s going to break my heart,” Judith whispered.
Tristan stiffened. “Has he said anything –”
“No, he hasn’t, and he probably never will,” Judith sniffed.
“I don’t understand.”
“Tell me.”
Judith took a deep breath and pulled away from Tristan’s chest so that she could look him in the eye. “He’s in love with you.”
Tristan stared at Judith. “But I’m not…”
“I know,” Judith looked down at her lap. “And that’s what makes it so heart-breaking. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. He’s in love with you, but you’re not in love with him, and he’s scared of driving you away. And you can’t help it; you’re just not wired that way. Michael knows this, and would never pressure you on it. I know this, and can’t pressure you on this; that would be grossly unfair to you both.”
“This is the strangest conversation to have with my wife,” Tristan commented.
“It is, isn’t it,” Judith said. “But this situation is far from typical.”
“’Typical’ would be jealousy.”
“I wouldn’t be jealous.” Honestly, it slipped out, thankfully so softly, Tristan probably didn’t hear.
“Huh?”
Judith squirmed in his lap and buried her face in his neck.
“You wouldn’t be jealous?” Tristan asked.
Judith scraped together her courage. “I’d think it was hot. You two. Together. I’d love to watch,” she said on a rush, then hid her face in her hands.
“Wow.” Tristan breathed.
“Fuck,” the rare epithet just slipped out, and she could feel her cheeks flaming.
“I’m sorry, Sweetheart,” Tristan wrapped his arms around her. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“You don’t have to… you know.” Judith said. Tristan didn’t answer, merely took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’d never expect you to do something you’re uncomfortable with. Michael wouldn’t either.”
Tristan’s arms tightened around her. “I know.”
Michael Page 18
