This is turning into a saga. The previous episode is here. 

Maires and I licked and nibbled our way down Stephanie’s thighs, she writhing slowly and smelling beautifully, headily, aroused. Eventually, when Stephanie would expect at least one tongue to touch her glorious, shiny centre, I stopped and kissed Maires.

Mouth to horizontal mouth, while Stephanie’s vertical mouth leaked, and she tried to move down the bed so her cunt touched our faces. I smacked her leg, and she stopped, making piteous, disappointed sounds. After a while, Maires stopped kissing me. She looked at me, eyebrows up, and I nodded.

Maires turned her head, and pressed forward, delicately, her mouth softly touching Stephanie’s cunt. Stephanie said, “Hooo”. 

Then Maires licked, firmly upwards, touching and tongue-bathing Stephanie’s clitoris. Stephanie’s whole body clenched, and she was silent, legs apart, abandoned, waiting for whatever we might make happen to her. 

I slid, snakelike, up the bed while Maires was busy with Stephanie’s sweet centre. I kissed her, and she opened her eyes. We smiled at each other. I said, “I’ll be fucking Maires next.” 

Stephanie nodded solemnly. A host had his responsibilities, and she knew it was Maires’s turn. She sighed, in response to something Maires was doing, then touched my face. She pulled me down to kiss her again. For a long time Stephanie was the centre of our tiny world, on my bed, having her cunt explored and kissing the man who’d just – finally, after too many years – fucked her.

I said, “but when I’m fucking Maires, I promise you’ll still feel me.” 

I know; that sounds egotistical. But we all live in a culture, and because of that culture Maires could lick Stephanie’s cunt because I was there. If I wasn’t present this wouldn’t be happening. My male presence, and I guess things about me specifically, made it possible for Stephanie to accept my girl’s tongue on her cunt, that female to female pressure. But Stephanie was having a threesome with a man, for the time being her man, not lesbian sex. From her point of view.     

I whispered, “Maires likes it if you hold her hair while she’s doing you.” And kissed her again. And a few seconds Maires made a lust noise; she was having her hair pulled, and she was serving. 

I kissed Stephanie goodbye for the time being. Maires was on her knees, her head down deep between Stephanie’s thighs. Her position was close to the one I’d enforced on Stephanie on the carpet. I clambered back until my knees were between Maires’s. I held her hips, Maires’s head still bobbing and bopping energetically, one of Stephanie’s hands in her hair.

My cock pressed forward, between her buttocks. The head touched Maires’s cunt. She was distracted, with her own duties, but she said, “Yer, ye.” I pushed forward. She said, “Ah fuck!” as I entered her. She lost her rhythm, for a few seconds.

I saw Stephanie dig her nails into Maires’s shoulders. Blood was going to be spilled, and soon. I pushed forward, into Maires in one thrust, tightly held in the most perfect world there is, wet, warm, and needing more of me. I smacked Maires’s arse, which I possessed utterly and without reservation from either of us. I said, “I’m fucking you. You’re doing Stephanie. So, follow me.”  

Maires made a sound that wasn’t a protest. It was acquiescence mixed with the knowledge that she shouldn’t take that sort of order. But she liked being given orders, and obeying, as Stephanie did. I wondered which of them would get to surrender to the other. And I pressed forward, and back, in Maires’s clasping wet cunt, riding her high and slowly. 

The next episode is here.

In the last episode, which is here – 

Stephanie and I had just fucked fairly vigorously on the carpet. I’d picked Stephanie up, carrying her in my arms, to my bed. But Maires, my girlfriend, had just had sex, or something, with a man with half his face painted red and a wooden toucan on his shoulder. Who, I’m afraid, doesn’t appear again in this story, although he did seem to be fascinating to women. Maires came into our room and congratulated us, which in practice meant mainly Stephanie, on the beauty of our orgasm noises. 

Stephanie remembered that she’d agreed with me that Maires could join us when she, Maires, was ready. But now she was embarrassed. So Maires asked her personally for her permission to join us. 

Stephanie looked up at me. I smiled at her, then had to clear my throat. “You don’t have to agree to anything you don’t want. I mentioned that it gets incredibly cuddly, if you have both me and Maires here. But all the options are good, whatever you want.” 

Stephanie’s “ernnnn” was a growl. Maires looked disappointed, and was ready to leave, but I recognised it: it was the sound my mom made, when she was about to agree to something but wanted me to know it was a big concession on her part. So I lifted her a little and kissed her. 

Stephanie laughed, with the absurdity and promise of the moment, and Maires finally relaxed. “All right,” Stephanie said. “You two fucking weirdos. Do your worst.”

I lowered Stephanie to the bed. She put her hands over her breasts and clamped her legs together. I figured she was joking. I said, “Promise it’ll be a good worst. Maires, I think you’re overdressed.” 

Stephanie slowly spread her legs, which had a hypnotic effect on me. Then she raised her knees, still spread, and pointed her toes at the ceiling. Maires said, “Holy fuck. Fuck, Stephanie. That’s fucking…” Then she shut up, and pulled her shirt over her head, and dropped it on the floor, then dropped her jeans to join the shirt. 

I joined Stephanie, with my cock poking at her hip, and smacked her bottom. She dropped her legs to the bed and looked at me, trying to be indignant. I kissed her left, nearer knee, which was red and rough and painfully abraded by our carpet fuck. “These need treatment. Maires, go and get anti-septic cream.” 

Maires hesitated. She was supposed to do as she was told when we were together. But it was the first time I’d given her a direct order in front of someone else. On the other hand, I’d just smacked Stephanie’s bottom in front of her. So she decided: she said, “Sir, then.” And she left for the bathroom, naked as she was.

Stephanie grinned at me. “You’re a bad man. Someone should spank you.” 

I kissed her. “It just doesn’t work like that. Life is unfair. And do you think I’m going to spank you, even for suggesting that?” 

Stephanie rolled over, poked her arse up, and wiggled. “Go on, then.”

I felt the invitation, and the urge to act on it.

But instead I kissed her bottom, and then her thighs. Stephanie sighed, and spread her thighs wider. I said, “All in good time. Now roll over, girl. On your back, knees up.”

Maires arrived then with Savlon and gauze. She climbed on the bed too, on Stephanie’s right side, and kissed her knee. “Poor little limb. Injured in the cause of love.” She took two pieces of gauze, squeezed out a dollop of Savlon onto each, and handed me one.

I dabbed at Stephanie’s left knee, while Maires cooed and did the same on her side. She leaned down and kissed Stephanie’s inner thigh. So I did the same.

“Obviously,” I said to Stephanie, “we intend to offer the total burns recovery care package.” It was an incredibly lame thing to say, but it did give her information.

Stephanie let her head sink back onto the pillow. She didn’t need to watch us any more. After we’d cleaned her knees, and soothed them as best we could, we gave our attention to Stephanie’s inner thighs, working our way, very, very slowly closer to her cunt.

Stephanie made a sound that was half sigh and half grunt. She was enjoying our worst. Maires bit very lightly on the inner side of Stephanie’s thigh. She looked up at me. Her eyes were bright. “Meet you in the middle.”

The next episode is here.

• Note: The previous episode is here.

If you’d like to go back to the beginning and read the whole thing, it starts here. I’ve linked all the episodes so it’s easy to click backwards or forwards to the previous, or the next, episode. 

Stephanie was on her knees, her face and breasts pressed on the carpet, getting fucked. I was on my knees, losing skin on the carpet, fucking her. Neither of us cared about knees, or any skin, except where we merged, my cock in her cunt, slick wet skin sliding together, hard and fast.

That took up most of our awareness. We’d both wanted this for eight years: it was worth savouring, though we’d passed the point at which we could take things slowly. Stephanie mewed, her head turning from side to side, as we fucked. My stomach and hips pounded her upturned, submissively presented ass.

Not that Stephanie was submissive in any full time sense. She and I had fallen into a dom/sub pattern because sexual dominance comes naturally to me, and she was in the mood to go along with me. I smacked her arse again, with that thought, and she yelped, pleasured, and sighed. But she was not quiet after that spank: she was approaching her orgasm, and that pleasured yelp repeated, and then became a long, continuous wail. 

She said, “Harder! Harder!” I smacked her again, hard, across the sides of her buttocks, and then again, though I knew that wasn’t what she meant. I also rode her harder, pushing her ass down to the floor with the weight and pressure of my body against her.

Eventually she collapsed forward, her body at full stretch on the carpet, my cock still in her, pushing and pumping as hard as I could. She made one, brief, very high-pitched noise and then was silent: her whole body shuddered. 

My girl had come. I could have come in her, at that moment, but I decided I needed to hold myself in reserve. I slowly rode her, while she gasped for air, post-orgasmic and blissed, and tried to push her ass up again. I put my hand in her hair, and turned her face so she could see me. I leaned down and kissed her neck, and cheek. 

Stephanie smiled. “That took us a while, didn’t it?” 

“Yeah. Should have happened eight years ago. We were just always busy with someone else. Or at least one of us always was.” I moved my cock in her, as it was too good and sweet not to, and I loved the feel of her soft but very muscular ass under me. 

Stephanie’s belting would be hot, and, for the moment, completely hypothetical…

Stephanie nodded. This was true. It was good we’d found the time. And that Maires, my current girlfriend, had allowed it to happen. But she said, “Would you really have taken your belt to my arse? If I’d pushed back, and taken your cock into me?”

“Oh god, yes. Hard, girl.” That wasn’t really true. I’d made the threat because it had seemed sexy in the moment, and then been relieved not to have to carry it out.

But once you’ve started down that path, you follow through, if tested in what you judge is a consenting way. Like Stephanie’s. She laughed briefly. “Heh. Thought so. You’ve got a… reputation, you know. Pervert.”

“I can’t deny it. But you don’t get to feel the belt, sweetiepie, unless you don’t do as you’re told.”

“What if I said, no?”

“Yeah well, that goes without saying. Er, I mean, if you say no, there’s no go. Anyway, I’d like very much to warm your arse up with my belt, before I fuck you. Some time. If you feel like it.”

I said that because my cock, still inside her, was likely to shrink if we talked too much about careful things. But saying the equivalent of, “I want to whip you”; and thinking about her perfect ass presented for that, as well as for the fucking that always follows any application of the belt: that got me hardening again. She noticed, and waggled her hips.

“Yeah. I can tell you’d like it.”

“I think you’ll like it too. But you do get a veto. Obviously.”

“Well, we’ll see.” 

“Sweet Stephanie-girl, I don’t really want to pull out of you. Ever, really. But I would like to carry you to bed. And put something on your knees.” Mine were starting to protest, red, scratched and possibly close to blistering. Hers had taken an even harder assault than mine. 

“Uh huh. That’s reasonable. So long as you’re back in me, once we’re in bed.” 

So, slowly, and with a certain amount of panting, because it really can be a hard thing to do, I withdrew. I rolled Stephanie onto her back, and reached under her shoulders and knees. She’s a strong girl, but not heavy. So I had an armful of warm, laughing, naked Stephanie, when the door opened. 

It was Maires. She had her jeans on, but the bra she’d been wearing under her tshirt was gone. She looked radiant, glowing: I guess the guy with the wooden toucan on his shoulder had done well by her.

She said, “Hello, beautiful lovers. I heard the end of that; it sounded lovely.”

Stephanie said nothing. She looked at me, not Maires. She’d agreed to have Maires join us, but in the moment what mattered was that it was so far outside her experience.

So Maires spoke to her: “Stephanie, darling, would you mind if I join you two?” 

The next episode is here.