I’ve just tried to get an erotic book published. It uses some material taken from this blog, but goes on to turn a short story into a whoie novel.
Anyway, it’s just been rejected for publication, because the cover is too sexy. Here’s the original cover I provided.
So I got rid of the bumcrack, and that nice blush on her bottom where I’d spanked her, and came up with this more demure image.
So wish me luck!
Inquiring minds may want to know what I look like. If you write erotica you should aspire to be hawt.
I’d say I’m presentable rather than hot, but beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, and anyway here I am. A man with a thing for silly jackets, that even Michael Jackson might have thought a bit over the top. Pic taken about two minutes ago.
There was fingernail skittering at the bedroom door, quite low, like a cat scratching to be let in. I said, “Come in!”
A second passed, then the handle turned. Another second passed and the pair of them emerged into the room, Stephanie on her hands and knees, and Maires on her back riding her. Both were naked, their clothes presumably shed in the kitchen. Maires had one hand on Stephanie’s right ear, while her left hand was behind her, holding the riding crop against Stephanie’s left thigh.
Stephanie’s face was a bright red, with darker patches at her cheekbones. Her eyes and nose still ran.
She had, after all, just taken a more severe whipping than I’d ever given Maires, or any submissive. She looked at at the carpet, uncertain if she had permission to look at me or speak. A glistening drop ran down her nose and onto the carpet. I realised that the darker red around her cheekbones wasn’t due to embarrassment but abrasion. When Stephanie had been serving Maires, Maires had clamped her face hard between her thighs, and Stephanie had had to push hard to work her mouth and tongue while tightly held.
Maires said, “Thank you, Master.” She might have been thanking me for permission to enter or her use of Stephanie.
“You’ve obviously had a good time, Maires. But has my new girl had a good time as well?”
Maires said, “I don’t think my ride has ever been so certain, before, that she’s in the place she belongs. And she’s happy to be in her place. Would you mind if I show you, Master?”
“Of course.”
Maires took Stephanie’s right ear in a firmer grip and pulled. Stephanie began to turn, Maires still riding her, until she presented her – and Maires’s for that matter – buttocks and thighs. But while Maires was only lightly marked from discipline I’d given her earlier, Stephanie’s bottom and legs were one large and painful-looking red blotch: a vista of red with occasional darker stripes where the crop had taken her particularly hard.
Maires stood then, her thighs straddling Stephanie, and dismounted. She crossed to the bed and passed me the riding crop. She said, “She took her floggings, and her service well, for a new slave. If I’ve done wrong, Master, please punish me.” She turned away from me and bent herself like a jackknife, her fingertips touching her toes. That was a position she always found slightly uncomfortable, and by choosing it she was making assurances to me about our relationship.
Both women were beautiful, desirable, and presented. I was tempted to take Maires’s offer, and whip her while she was presented, for my own pleasure. Perhaps also because I was slightly ashamed of myself for not having understood the depth of submission that Stephanie wanted, and I was slightly cross with Maires for having been more astute than I’d been.
But while those might be reasons for wanting to flog Maires, they were not good reasons for actually doing it.
I said to Maires, “I’ll deal with you later. For now, get up, love, and stand with your nose to the wall.”
“Yes, Master.” Maires put her hands on her head and walked to press herself against the wall, feet a little apart. She walked to the wall and put her hands on her head, a lithe woman, a clever woman, a woman who knew the relatively pale state of her own skin would not last.
I looked at Stephanie, on her knees with her back to me, her bottom and thighs thoroughly and remorselessly whipped. “You on your hands and knees! Come here!”
Stephanie made to turn and I said, “No! Backwards! Come here, girl.”
She made a sound of understanding, then said, “Yes, Master.” I watched her approach, her cunt and smaller hole seeming to watch me as she crawled. She stopped when I laid the shaft of the crop on her lower back.
I said, “Spread,” and she acknowledged the order then moved her knees about half a metre apart, her back arched like a cat. I clasped her cunt, hard, between two fingers, not seeking to give her pleasure or reward. She was wonderfully wet, slippery, engorged: I released my grip on her labia and spanked her, starting at medium hard and quickly building up to full punishment spanking.
But I’d have to stop soon, I realised. It was hard not giving Stephanie loving words, to let her know that though we hurt her physically we loved her. As well, she was enjoying the feel of my bare hand against her cunt too much. I shouldn’t be giving Stephanie pleasure. Her world had to be harsh, for now. So I stopped the spanking and said, “Maires taught you a lot about your place, didn’t she?”
“Oh, yes, Master. Thank you, Mistress!” Maires, her body pressed against the wall, said nothing. She knew she didn’t have permission to speak.
[To be continued]
So I lay in bed. Just a few minutes ago that bed had had two women in it, then one. Now there were none. I liked it better before.
Maires, who I loved, had taken the riding crop to see Stephanie, who I also loved. Our dynamic was complicated because Stephanie had reacted submissively to Maires as well as to me, and Maires had discovered a dominant streak in herself. At least when it came to Stephanie.
Since I was nominally and perhaps really in charge, I’d granted Maires her wish to explore her new-found dominant side with Stephanie. I was ashamed of myself for it, but I was frightened that they might get on so well that I’d lose them both, and that would destroy all my happiness, possibly for years. But I knew that Stephanie really did love me, and so did Maires.
And both of them liked male energy and smell, and they enjoyed their interactions with cock too much to want to give it up. So I told myself. So I lay alone and tried to get to sleep. I was exhausted, having spent that night as a sexual provider for both of them.
But I heard a gasp from the kitchen. That was Stephanie. Then there was a low conversation, which ended with a slap. It might have been Stephanie’s face, or her bottom. Then I heard Maires. I couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she did a reasonable imitation of my command voice.
At the end of Maires’s order I heard a quiet sound from Stephanie. I knew she’d just said, “Yes Mistress.”
Then there was silence. I tried not to imagine what might be happening, and I was drifting to sleep when I heard Maires’s orgasm noise. The guttural, grunting, hard one. Stephanie had paid homage, lip and tongue and nose service, to her Mistress.
There was more silence, and then I heard a kitchen chair dragged across the floor. A sharp command from Maires, loud enough so I knew she’d said Stephanie hadn’t been trying hard enough, and to bend over the back of that chair. Now, slave!
Stephanie, and in a different way I, had to wait nearly ten minutes before the flogging started, the unmistakable sharp slap of a riding crop hitting flesh, over and over. Stephanie was using the shaft as well as the tag. Well, she’d always liked the sight of her own stripes.
Stephanie began to whimper, barely audibly from my room though it would be louder in the kitchen. After a time, with Maires still remorseless, the whimpers became cries and ultimately screams. Maires didn’t stop or even slightly vary the speed or force of the strokes. The flogging went on for what felt like an incredibly long time, though I knew it was only about six minutes.
When the strokes stopped coming, Stephanie for some reason only cried out and wailed louder. She ignored Maires’s command, “Silence!” There was another resounding slap, probably Maires’s hand across her cheek, and Stephanie stopped her noise, instantly.
There was another murmured command, and as silence resumed I knew this time what was happening. And though I’d been exhausted, my cock was taking an interest and taking on blood. I seemed to be developing an erection again.
The silence continued until Maires came again. It wasn’t quite as loud as her first orgasm, but there was no question that she was enjoying herself. I heard Stephanie say something. It was the hesitant question of a submissive afraid she’d failed to please.
So Maires, I took it, gave her notes on how better to please her. After a few minutes the kitchen chair jerked again and then the flogging resumed, with Stephanie responding high and pained to each stroke. I would not have flogged Stephanie so hard. Maires was pitiless. I had a sense, though, that this was what Stephanie had wanted, and that Maires was right.
After a long time Maires stopped. Stephanie had wailed and screamed throughout her flogging, but after the last stroke she fell silent immediately without being told. After a few seconds I heard her say, loudly by her standards, “Thank you, Mistress.”
Then more silence, followed at last by Maires’s third orgasm, sounding more wrenched from her than her first two.
I waited for Stephanie’s third flogging, but it didn’t come. Instead I heard rustling and kitchen drawers opened and shut. After a while I heard the slap of crop on flesh again. Incredibly, they were moving. The crop sounded every fifteen to twenty seconds. They passed my bedroom door and went on to the bathroom.
There I expect Maires allowed Stephanie to inspect the state of her bottom and thighs in the mirror. The shower ran, and afterwards I assume that Stephanie received an anointment of cold cream and perhaps even, finally, a loving word from Maires.
At last I heard a knock on the lower panels of my bedroom door.
Maires had asked me if I were jealous of the bond that seemed to be developing between her and Stephanie. It was a question that needs thought, but it also needs an instant answer.
“No, of course not,” I said. “You’re both doing new things – you’re being dominant, and Stephanie’s getting turned on by another woman. I really don’t want to lose you, and I’d be devastated if I did, but I think you should both explore. That,” I grimaced, because I suspected I was lying, “Is the truth.”
Maires came closer, and looked into my eyes. She brushed the hair off my forehead, so we could each see ourselves reflected in the other’s eyes. “Master, I love you. And I’m in lust with you.” She put her hand on my cock, which was still wet with her, or with Stephanie. She smiled at me till I smiled back at her. “I know for a fact that Stephanie is too. In love with you and in lust. But we both want to explore. I feel that from her, and I know I feel the same.”
I said, “I know. And I’m not exactly jealous. Part of me fears that you’ll go off together and leave me behind. I hope that’s stupid: no, I’m sure it is. But I think that fear’s a very slightly different thing from jealousy. Or maybe it isn’t. Anyway, I love you, and I love Stephanie. I hate having to be brave, but I can do it. Explore, my love.”
Maires kissed me. “Master, Jaime, that’s not good enough. Please trust that I love you. I know that Stephanie does. I just want to do something naughty with her. I think it’ll make her closer to you, and I think you’ll like the result. But please, my love, do trust me. I’m not going to hurt you.”
I smacked her bottom, as a reminder and for the sensual pleasure of it.”This is wise. If I owned you but didn’t trust you, what would be the point? Anyway, Stephanie’s in the kitchen and I’m sure she won’t mind being interrupted. Maybe you could inspect the plates she’s washed. I bet they’re not perfect. Anyway, you can grab Stephanie in the kitchen, and I’m putting no restrictions on you.”
Maires kissed me again, then scrambled up. Standing, she said, “I know you’re being brave, but I promise you you don’t need to be. You don’t get to be my master, or Stephanie’s, unless we love you.”
I leaned back in the bed and smiled up at her. “Enjoy yourself, and make sure Stephanie does too.”
“Oh Master, I can promise you that too.” She turned, ready to go out the door. She wiggled, knowing that always cheered me up.
I threw a pillow at her. “You make a good hussy.”
“Thank you Jaime.” As she put her hand on the door handle she turned. “Master, would it be all right if I took the riding crop?”
We woke, a heap of entangled bodies, at about six in the evening. I got up and put on my robe, black with gold dragons, and went to the kitchen to made a Thai duck red curry with rice. It’s one of my show-off dishes, and I had both Maires and Stephanie to show off to. You can’t just convince two women that you’re worth hanging out with, also submitting to. It’s a process, not a goal, and it doesn’t end: you have to keep on being convincing.
I heard sounds from the bedroom while I was busy. Someone, presumably Stephanie, was getting spanked. It lasted a long, long time. Stephanie started to vocalise after a couple of minutes, and I liked the mental picture that made. There were occasional pauses, when Stephanie moaned with pleasure.
Then there was a longer silence, until Maires began her own orgasm noises and I knew why I wasn’t hearing from Stephanie any more. Her tongue was being put to use. I stirred the curry.
A few minutes later they emerged, neither having showered, both smelling of sex and warm bread, wearing one of my white shirts. I brought out plates and we sat at the kitchen table, Stephanie beside me, both of us facing Maires. We said little and ate home-made Thai food.
Both my shirts were unbuttoned, full of beautiful, warm womanhood. I welcomed them both, with my arms round them while we swayed together and kissed. A woman wearing a man’s shirt is accepting various things from him, and that can’t help but feel good.
Still, during dinner I could see and feel that Maires and Stephanie weren’t focussing on me. Stephanie flirted with Maires and three times “accidentally” called her “Mistress.” Maires liked being Mistress. So they were happily turning each other on and to some extent they were taking the piss out of the man who’d been running things till then.
I was happy to sit back and watch. Stephany was the one of us with the least experience, and she’d turned out to be more consistently submissive than Maires, wanting to give herself to both of us. She was getting what she wanted, and if that meant she had to wind up her two Doms she was happy to do that. Maires touched my foot, under the table, and winked when I looked over at her. Stephanie, finishing her curry, didn’t notice.
She was interested in other desires than food. She put her spoon on the plate and said, “That was delicious, thank you, Master.”
I said, “Good girl. Clean up for us now, and come back when you’ve put the dishes in rthe dishwasher.”
Stephanie stood, holding her plate. She said, “Yes, Master,” but turned to Maires first and said, “May I take your plate, Mistress?”
She was in range so I smacked her bottom, still warm and red from other discipline she’d had that day, most recently from Maires. My hand was hard enough for her to jump a little and yelp. “Master?”
“Do you address Maires as Mistress when you’re both with me?”
Stephanie bit her lip. She doesn’t usually do that: it was calculated to make her cute. Then she dropped to her knees beside me. She kissed my foot, then looked up. “I’m sorry, Master, but I’m finding it hard not to. She’s my Mistress in my heart and in my cunt. I know you’re Master, for both of us. But I don’t want to call her Maires. It feels disrespectful.”
I put two of my fingers into her mouth, so she could tongue and suck gently. “What have I promised you after dinner, Stephanie?”
She didn’t even pretend to look sorry, or worried. “You’re going to teach me what the cane feels like, Master.”
“That’s right. A long, hard, introduction, for you, love. All right. Good girl. Take our plates away and wash them. Come straight back when you’ve finished.”
Stephanie took her shirt off. Some things are best done naked. She kissed my foot again, then licked me, as a sort of promise. She stood. She looked down at herself, and I guessed she was sorry she couldn’t curtsey. After a second she gave me a full bow from the waist.
She expected that I’d like what that did for her breasts, and she was right. Maires smacked Stephanie’s bottom while she was conveniently presented and winked at me again.
Stephanie said, “Thank you, Mistress.” I nodded at her and she turned to face Maires. I decided she’d won her point: Maires was her Mistress. They smiled at each other, as Stephanies cleared her plate, then mine, and left. There was a short silence, while Maires and I looked at each other.
At last she said, “Are you jealous, Master?”
I lay back with Maires on her tummy between my legs, her hands tightly holding my thighs, mouth on my cock. I’d long ago withdrawn permission for her to use her hands when she sucked my cock, and I watched her head bobbing, keeping me in her warm, wet and mobile mouth.
Stephanie lay on her side, stroking my hair and watching my facial expressions as Maires pleasured me. She’d never been in a position to watch a man’s face as he was being sucked before. She smiled benignly, as if she was watching children playing nicely. Sometimes she put her hand on the back of Maires’s neck in encouragement.
I could feel the stirring of orgasm, a distance away but getting closer, and so I put my hands on the back of Maires’s head and held her down. I thrust hard into her, because I couldn’t help myself, and anyway I wanted to stop her breathing, at least through her mouth. She grunted: she liked that.
I said, “Up,” and let her go. Maires clambered to her knees and looked at me, considering. She’d been promised a fuck, since Stephanie had had all the sexual attention recently from both of us, until I’d demanded she suck me. I’d needed that: I’d make my promise but I hadn’t been sure I’d be hard and committed for her. Now I was. Maires bent down briefly and kissed the head of my cock. Then she turned, her back to me, and straddled me so my cock sank into her, or rather she sank onto my cock.
I gasped when her buttocks rested on my groin, my cock deep, or high, buried in more intimate warmth. I smacked her left buttock once, to let her know I approved, and she began to move, fucking me, taking her pleasure.
All I had to do was watch her, which was wonderful enough, and hold back my orgasm until she’d ridden me to her own.
Stephanie leaned forward to kiss me, and then raised herself a little, leaning forward, to direct her left nipple into my mouth.
I sucked her, then grazed her with my teeth, because I knew she liked that. But then I bit just a little harder, as a warning, and she backed off. I had Maires’s amazing ass to watch.
I felt Maires’s hands resting on my knees then, and she raised herself and then dropped spectacularly, working herself on me. Stephanie kissed me again, but only for a second. She moved down the bed to kiss Maires’s cunt, then stayed, pleasuring her with her nose and tongue. With that pressure Maires lowed like a calf hunting for its mother, and sped up.
I put my hands on the junction of Maires’s waist and her spread thighs, and held her tight. She was making little cries and grunts now, that I recognised and loved. We were near the end. I started to thrust back, in time with her. I was still trying to hold back, but I knew I wouldn’t have to for much longer.
Maires said, “Ah.” Almost conversationally, then she wailed. I felt contractions in her cunt, a sort of flutter, and I held her tighter and thrust upwards, hard as I could. In a few seconds we both grunted and growled, a sort of mammalian dawn chorus, and I let myself come in her. I continued thrusting, losing my rhythm, until Maires had run down.
Maires leaned back, my cock still in her, until she lay on top, her back to me. I put my hands on her breasts and squeezed tight. She turned her head to kiss my neck. She sighed, the happy kind. Then Stephanie leaned forward and kissed Maires’s mouth. Maires kissed her back, but after a time shook her head. “You want too much attention, Stephanie. Sometimes you won’t be the star.”
Stephanie said, “Yes, Mistress.” She caught my eye: my disapproving. I’d said they were equals when I was with them. “I’m sorry, Master. And I expect you’ll punish me. I probably deserve it. But I can’t help thinking of … Maires – it’s hard for me even to say the name now – as anything but Mistress. May I call her that?”
I had to think about that. I didn’t want Maires to be anything but a slavegirl, when I was with her. But I understood how Stephanie felt. She wanted to be at the bottom, with a Master and a Mistress. At last I said, “After dinner, I’m going to give you your first caning. You know that, Stephanie.”
“Yes, Master. Of course. Though that’s scary.”
“Then you will cane Maires.” Maires looked at me, surprised, but made no protest. Then she smiled: that could be fun too, including Stephanie’s confusion. “You’d better do it hard, or it’ll be worse for you, little slave.”
“Oh. Oh, I see. But can I call her Mistress?”
“You will. With every stroke.”
Stephanie straddled Maires then, her thighs under Maires’s breasts, her cunt just out of Maires’s reach. She leaned down and kissed me. “Thank you, Master. I’m sure Mistress won’t forget her place.” Maires, sandwiched between me and Stephanie, laughed briefly. This was absurd. “And I’ll find it much easier.”
My cock had softened, and when Maires moved to dislodge Stephanie it slipped out of its sweet place. I pulled both of them down, Maires under my right arm and Stephanie at my left. Maires said, “Sleepies?”
Stephanie frowned. “Oh, all right.”
I smacked her belly, then her cunt. After two more smacks she relaxed. “You need rest too. It’s being a good day.”
Stephanie had announced, after we’d had at each other, that she was hungry. Maires had immediately called for Neapolitan and Carbonara pizzas. She wouldn’t have done that if I’d said I was hungry. Stephanie was obviously going to be spoiled, by both of us.
The pizza boy had copped no more than a glimpse of Maires’s knees and cleavage as she opened the door in my dressing gown, paid him, grabbed the boxes and come back to bed. It wasn’t a lucky day for pizza boys, but into every life some rain will fall.
I lay on my bed naked with two beautiful women, also naked, and from time to time licked their fingers, as they did mine.
Mozarella cheese may not be sexy (though some have argued that it is), but it’s certainly one of the good things in life.
Stephanie was still wolfing her pizza, while Maires had set her piece aside. Stephanie looked at her, puzzled. “I’m going a-fucking, once my poor Master has recovered,” Maires said. “And I fuck better when I’m not full.”
“I’ve never noticed.” I was still in the wolfing stage, like Stephanie.
“I didn’t mean better for you, darling bozo. I mean it’s better for me.”
I shrugged, and looked at Stephanie, who also thought that was weird. So we shared a greasy seafood, cheese and doughy kiss.
But Maires wasn’t encumbered by pizza any more. “Master, seriously Jaime. You really want to move out on [she named our housemates], and get a place for the three of us?”
“If Stephanie wants to join us, and I want you with us, Stephanie, then we’re a new household of three. One bedroom, three offices, rooms of our own.”
“Strike out on our own?”
“I think [housemates] think just Maires and I kind of have too much power, because we’re two votes combined, in all the decision-making.”
Maires nodded. “We two are a united front, Stephanie. Three of us, and they’d hate it.”
I smacked Stephanie’s bottom, not hard, just to establish ownership. “Anyway, I want to live with you two. Stephanie, if I want to cane you naked in the kitchen, it shouldn’t be anyone else’s problem. Also, I love you Maires, and Stephanie, I love you.”
“I love you, Jaime – Master. I have for years. Though I only just learned what I’d be taking on, with you two.”
Maires smacked Stephanie’s bottom too. She didn’t exactly have permission, since they weren’t alone, and she should probably have asked me first. But I knew that if I tried to set rules on that sort of thing I’d only be making myself a frustrating and losing time.
Maires said, “Love, we’re taking you on too. All we’ve seen so far is lovely Stephanie. But when we see the rest, we’ll love that too. I know that about Master: he’s a softy. And I know it about me too. I bet not all of you is wonderful. But we’ll love all of you, no matter what.”
Stephanie said, “I’m much like what you’ve seen, Maires. Jaime – I mean Master –he knows me outside and now, um, inside. Well, it’s true I like to do Hitler salutes when I microwave kittens, but apart from that I’ve got no awful secrets. Oh! I like Karen Carpenter.”
Maires mimed putting her fingers down her throat at the mention of the late Carpenter. But she said, “Three is powerful. You and me and him against the world: if that’s what it came to, I’d bet on us. Seriously, Stephanie, we will both love you and look after you. You’re in a family now: you’re the little, new, special one. You know that, don’t you?”
Maires’s bossy streak, when she let it out, was less subtle than mine. But Stephanie looked at me then, not Maires. “Master, we’ll look for a place. I want a king-sized waterbed. Apart from that, I don’t mind where we live.”
Maires said, “Waterbed? Seriously?”
I smacked Maires’s bottom, broader than Stephanie’s and perfect in a different way, and just then too long neglected. “We go looking for our new home on Saturday. Maires, we have business. I understand you need fucking.”
Maires pretended to look agrieved. “If Master can even remember how.”
I grabbed her arm and pulled her close, and looked into her eyes. She weasn’t frightened: she wanted me to start the new game. The game for her. “Master remembers he’s got a cane hanging in the wardrobe. So do you. Suck my cock, Maires. Now.”
I had to think about the logistics of fucking Stephanie and Maires before lunch, since they didn’t seem to be interested in food. I was. Still, Stephanie and I were the last to have straight-ish sex, some time in the early hours of this morning. So it was Maires’s turn. On the other hand, Stephanie was still a guest, though she was losing that status and becoming part of the family. I decided her guest status still applied. So I’d fuck her first.
Anyway, I knew that’d make Maires complain, and I felt she deserved to have to wait her turn. I’d granted her authority over Stephanie, at least when I wasn’t present, so she needed to be set down a step or two. She’d still know she was doing all right. If she complained too much I’d make her join Stephanie getting the cane after dinner, and she knew that.
That left positions. I thought about having the both of them bend over the bed side by side, and taking them, one by one, from behind. That didn’t seem to offer Maires much sensory input or participation while I fucked Stephanie, even if I stroked her.
So I rolled onto my back, nose and cock pointed at the ceiling. “Maires, you need your cunt on my mouth. And Stephanie, I think you know what to know.”
Maires kissed me. “In a moment, Master. I think you want to watch first, while Stephanie sits herself down on your cock.”
I looked at her, surprised. “You’re right, I do. Stephanie!”
Stephanie straddled me, cunt not quite toucing the tip of my cock. “This will be the first time I have your cock in me, as my Master.”
“Yes.”
“I just like to mark these steps.” Maires smacked her bottom, and Stephanie lowered herself onto me. I watched my cock disappear, gasping at the sheer enveloping pleasure of it, of her. She lowered herself very slowly, millimetre by millimetre, wet soft skin taking in my harder skin, staring into my eyes.
At last she settled herself, my cock entirely inside her, her thighs holding me. “Uh,” she said happily. She stayed still for a long moment, then lifted herself and settled again. “Master?”
“Stephanie?”
“Maires smacked me. She’s not allowed to do that when we’re all three together, is she?”
I laughed and she rode, cowgirl-like, to stay in place. Every movement of her cunt was excruciatingly pleasurable, almost too much to bear. “No, you’re right. That’s two girls for the cane after dinner. Maires, stop beating your sister. Unless I’m not here.”
“Sister?” Maires smacked Stephanie’s bottom harder, so the room rang with it. “I suppose we’re sisters.” She smacked Stephanie’s arse again, then got up onto her knees and kissed her. “But you’re going to be one sorry sister, once I get you to myself.”
“You want the crop, Maires?” She’d long ago lost all fear of the cane, but the riding crop still gave her pause.
“No, Master. Please not. I’m sorry.”
“Then get up here, and get your cunt licked. Stephanie needs something to hang on to, anyway.”
“Master is kind.” I can pack a lot of disdain into four syllables, but Maires is better.
I had things to say, but Maires lowered herself on all fours, thighs straddling my neck and shoulders, cunt pushed wetly against my mouth. She put her hands on the sheet, over my head. I’d been about to tell her she was a tissue’s width away from getting the crop instead of the cane after dinner. But I knew she knew that.
I pushed my tongue and nose against her, and devoted myself to making her stomach muscles tighten and her breath harsh, while Stephanie rode me.
Time passed,while Stephanie fucked me, making full, wiggling use of her fulcrum, and I pleasured Maires. I could feel my own orgasm slowly gathering itself, not yet urgent. I wondered how Stephanie was.
More time passed, and at last I smacked Maires twice, as hard as I could, which made her close her eyes and lift her face to the ceiling, exposing her throat. I smacked her again, then pushed her back so she sat on my chest. She made a querulous sound.
“Sorry, love. I want to watch Stephanie come.”
Maires paused for a second, her expression changing from mock-aggrieved to conspiratorial. She slid off me, then leaned down and kissed Stephanie’s thigh. She lay down, arms holding my face and chest, her body pressed against both of us.
Stephanie’s eyes were still closed. What was important was moving inside her, in at least two senses, and I wasn’t sure she’d even noticed Maires’s departure. She made a little vocal sound as she rode me, like a gargle, then suppressed it.
She worked harder on me, sometimes swinging her hips sideways while working back and forth. Her breathing was louder and rhythmical, like a very small steamtrain.
I reached up and held her breasts, then clamped her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. That had worked well before, but this time the effect was extraordinary. She opened her eyes wide and screamed, “Yab! Arb! Oaawwb!”
She fell forward onto me. I held her ass tight and hard. We pumped together, Stephanie still making strange noises that always ended in “b”, and at last I added my own bear noises. She bit me when she came. I hadn’t expected that. Then I came in her, while the world seemed to swirl in red and black for those orgasmic moments, before I couldf again see Stephanie’s golden hair, dishevelled and mine.
We lay still, Stephanie’s weight on me. Maires raised herself and kissed Stephanie’s face, then mine. “You two. You two. You’re rather lovely, together.”
