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 could press against our faces.

I smacked her leg, and said, “Stephanie, you keep still!” She’d got used to taking commands. 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 that 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. She opened her mouth, so we explored each other like horny adolescents, lips and tongues and teeth. 

For a long time Stephanie was the centre of our tiny world, on my bed, having her cunt pleasured and kissing the man who’d just – finally, after too many years – fucked her. I added, “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 Stephanie wouldn’t allow that.

My male presence, and I guess things about her and 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, and not having 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. 

Stephanie and I were on our knees, on the carpet. She had her face and breasts pressed on the carpet. I was on my knees, losing skin, fucking her. We’d known each other for about eight years, so there was a lot of sexual curiosity, longing and lust in this, so we didn’t care about knees, or any skin except where we two merged, my cock in her cunt, slick wet skin sliding together, hard and fast.

That took up most of our awareness. 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, sweetly presented ass.

It was a submissive position, 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 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, beautiful darling, would you mind if I join you two?” 

Note:

1`. This continues the Night Vision saga, with a new title since our cast is inside, now.

2. This actually fits the prompt, because it’s something that happened about nine years ago. I’ve changed names to protect the wonderful, and changed a few other details. But this was a peak experience, from within the last ten years.

Bedroom Eyes1

I opened the back door and stood back as if I were a polite man, so that Stephanie could lead the way, prowling on her hands and knees. It wasn’t politeness, of course. I just wanted to watch her ass.

I said, because there are times a dom can’t help himself, and for me just saying it comes with an incredibly powerful wave of affection and lust, “Good girl, Stephanie.”

She looked at me, I guess wondering whether I was in any position to decide whether she was good or not. A naked Stephanie is very obviously a girl, and she couldn’t have had any doubt that I could judge that part of it. Only her “goodness” was in question.

Then she looked back down at the carpet, so there she’d decided not to challenge my judgment, or my right to be so ridiculously patronising. She’d decided that she’d play along and do as I said. So she was a good girl. I reached down and stroked her face, then put my fingers where she could kiss them. She did. I said, “Good girl,” again. 

Where we were, just inside the back door, there was no one around. I reached my hand back from her mouth and smacked her arse, hard. I said, “Mush!”

Stephanie skittered a little, like a pony might, then began to crawl towards the main corridor. We could hear people there. Her arrival in that corridor was going to be noticed. She knew she was a hot girl even with her clothes on, and so she knew that my male guests in particular were going to notice her.

I said, “You know the way to my room. Go.” And I smacked her again. This time she accepted it with no skittering or protest, and began to crawl, half prowling and half shuffling, to the door of my room. I had a thought. “Keep your head down, girl.” I smacked her again. I was too happy not to. 

There were about a dozen people in the corridor, one couple kissing, and two groups of five. They looked at Stephanie first, and then at me. They’d seen me do weird stuff before. Most of them didn’t know about me and bdsm, so I guess they just took it as theatre.

I said, “Second door on the left, Maureen.” (I called her Maureen because it wasn’t her name. Most people are terrible witnesses, and most of the guys, and the women for that matter, were looking at the naked, crawling girl’s body, not her face. So using the name “Maureen” might give Stephanie a kind of privacy. There’d probably be gossip about this, but it would involve a Maureen.)

I noticed that her face was now red as I’ve ever seen anyone’s. This was exhibitionism on a grand scale, and mildly humiliating. It seemed that she liked those two things very much. 

But she shuffled quickly forward to my doorway, and made the left turn inside. There were four idiots (I say this affectionately) standing in my room wasting good party time by standing around and talking about Gramsci. They saw me, with a naked girl at my feet, and took the hint. There was a couple on my bed talking. I’d hoped they’d get together, and they clearly had. Unfortunately, they’d have to consummate somewhere else.

I said, “I’m sorry to chuck you out. But I need the room. Sorry, John, sorry, Lena.” But they broke up, Lena laughing at me because she knew about me and bdsm. They left, arm in arm. I shut the door behind them, and pushed Stephanie’s scarlet face down to the carpet.

“Keep your ass high, Stephanie. Knees apart. Spread your arms out so your upper body is on the carpet.”

Stephanie made a little moaning noise, that wasn’t a protest, and obeyed. She looked spectacularly, nakedly and rudely offered. Sexually offered.

She said, “Am I still good?” so I smacked her again. She waited, watching me from the floor while I undressed. She was smiling. 

I took a condom from my wallet. I put it on. Then I knelt behind her and put my hands on her hips. “Carpet burns, darling. You’re about to get serious carpet burns.” 

Stephanie had just sucked me off, sitting prettily and naked on one of the park swings. She’d just announced that that had been fun, and she wanted to do it again. I don’t know about other men, but that wasn’t an option for me. Not for a while. But even if it had been, I was pretty sure we should be leaving the park.

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance that bastard called the cops,” I said. “We should get gone now. If they do show up, this’ll involve more explanation than I feel like doing. So, girl, home.”

I pulled her up out of her seat and smacked her bottom. Every time I’d smacked her arse so far I’d had a positive response, so I wasn’t being careful any more. It was a lusty smack, loud enough to be heard across the park.

I liked the effect it had on her arse, and her eyes. She looked at me as if I were a marvel. I didn’t think I was, but her gaze still felt good. And it made me want to try to be a marvel.

We walked to the road, till we were one step out of the light. Stephanie was naked.

I had underpants and a shirt on. And I had Stephanie’s shorts and knickers in my hand. She said, “Er, can I have..?”

“Of course not. You run when– What’s the signal?”

“You. You smack my bottom?”

I smacked her hard, then, and let her start first, so I could follow and watch her. There were no lights in the street on except at my place. The party was still going but it was quieter. I don’t think anyone saw us run across the road.

When we got inside my gate I held her tight, rubbing her back and thighs briskly to get her warm. Her arse was already warm, but I couldn’t help giving it plenty of attention too. We kissed, long, and deep. Stephanie sighed. She was having a strange, fun night.

I let her stand there, though, while I put my jeans on, and held her clothes in my left hand. I kissed her again, smiling wolfishly to let her know something terrible was coming. Then I smacked her again and led her to the back door. Someone had seized control of the sound system, and was playing old Cure songs. I reached for the door handle. 

Stephanie said, “I can’t walk naked to your room! People will see!”

“Oh, you won’t be walking. Naked girl, well spanked, on her hands and knees, crawling to heel. No one’s even going to notice. Well, they won’t really notice you, I mean, who you are.”

Stephanie drew in a breath. Her face was already red, though not unhappy. She breathed, “I see.”

I kissed her again. “Just do as you’re told. It’ll be hot. You’ll see.”

So Stephanie waited, bending over the apex of the slide, naked now, her shorts dropped on the ground below. Her face pressed down against the cold metal of the chute, her ass prettily presented for me. I slipped my fingers between wet, petalled folds, and began to stroke her again. 

Stephanie said, “Oh, I don’t think I got anything more.” But I smacked her bottom again, because I wanted to make it clear that all sorts of things weren’t really up to her. Not for the time being, and that a second orgasm was one of those things. She laughed, for reasons of her own, and then sighed when I resumed working my fingers against sweet soft wetness. 

I put my thumb against her asshole and pressed a little, and got another sigh. She tightened her muscles on my thumb: I took that as clasping me, not trying to force me out. She sighed again, and I decided I was right about that. 

I kept that pressure, and kept the rhythm of my fingers in her absolutely steady, neither fast now slow, not speeding up or slowing down. Her buttocks had clenched, and she rolled her hips to keep pressed against my hand. Her vocal noises were still sighs, but higher pitched, enthusiastic sighs.

I said, “I have. More, I mean. I’m going to fuck you so hard, little Stephanie, when we get back.”

Her foot twitched. She was no longer standing on the steps, letting her tummy take all of her weight. She made a nasal sound, and carolled, “fuuuuuuck!”, partly in answer to what I’d said, and partly for other good reasons. 

The sound she made when she came, that second time, was like the greatest expression of fear and grief you could imagine, except that it was clearly loudly and absolutely joyous. Her feet and thighs lifted clear of the steps, so that I had to grab her and hold her while she came, or else she’d have slid remorselessly down. 

Eventually she breathed a kind of laugh. “I didn’t see that coming. Jesus!” 

I said, “It’s an unpredictable world, Stephanie.” And, because I had her legs in my hands, and she had no more orgasm for now, I pushed her, like a double javelin, down the slide.

Stephanie said, “Yiiiii!” And she whooped with indignation and disbelieving laughter, while she hurtled facedown and naked, down that polished metal chute. 

I didn’t follow her down, though I wanted to. I climbed back down the steps and picked up her discarded shorts and panties. It seemed the responsible thing to do.

Stephanie, now getting up from the level bit at the slide’s end, called out to me, “You utter, utter, utter, utter bastard!” It seemed utter bastards were a good thing.

And then a light went on, from the house nearest the playground. People were stirring. We’d stirred them. 

Stephanie reached her right hand back when she felt her shorts halfway down her ass, and the cold air breathing on new skin. I took her wrist in mine and pulled her arm a little to the left, so that she could feel helpless. Then I kissed her hand.

Stephanie said, “Ah-huh.”

“Put your hands back on the slide. Below your head. Low as you can reach.”

“And you’ll spank me if I let go?” She wasn’t asking for information. She knew that. She just wanted to say it aloud. I wanted to kiss her. But I couldn’t reach. So I tugged the shorts, and her knickers down till they were bunched at the top of her thighs.

“Lift up for a second.”

She did. I pushed the little bundle of shorts and panties down to her knees, then used my foot, on the gusset, to drop them to her feet. I did what any gentleman would and pressed myself her, cock hard, yearning, desperate to be in her, between the tops of her thighs, that sweet gap known to all as the inter-gracile, sub-pudendal fossa. We both sighed at the same moment. That felt good, and we wanted more of that, please.

There was just one problem. My condoms were in my wallet, and my wallet was in my jeans, and my jeans were, at Stephanie’s demand, stuffed into the post-box back at my place. So the thing we both wanted most was temporarily not on.

We were both more than likely to be STD-free (small provincial university, general condom use, and the fucking Stephanie and I did involved a relatively small social circle), and under some circumstances lust would have led to us taking the risk. We were horny humans after midnight, not role models. But aside from the STD issue, I knew that while I could pull out before I actually came, at that moment there was no way I could guarantee not to leak seminal fluid into her.

Stephanie said, “Are you going to fuck me?” In the tone that meant: what in hell is keeping you? 

So I pulled back, and put my hand where my cock had been. And pressed up against soft, wet, girl-folds. I stroked her, fingertips just inside. Stephanie sighed, and turned her head, so her cheek rested on the slide. She was smiling.

I slipped two fingers along, not quite inside her, fingertips touching her clitoris, thumb pressing her asshole. I stroked, and Stephanie started to move against my hand. There were goosebumps on her buttocks and inner thighs. 

She moved her feet further apart, giving me better access. Her shorts fell to the ground; she was a naked girl on a slide, and nothing to be done about it if anyone happened along. I pressed against her as close as I could with my hand working on her cunt. Stephanie blew a lungful of breath out, and breathed in more quietly; breathing was something she’d forgotten about. She murmured, “Yeah…”

I stroked, my world or my awareness of it shrinking to my hand and her cunt, moving not quite in unison, sliding together, skin to wet, yearning skin. And speeding up.

After a time Stephanie pressed down on my hand, hard, and said, “Oh.” I pressed a my thumb little harder on her asshole, and she opened. I moved my fingers in her, as hard and fast as I could as I could. Her feet left the slide, so she was supported only by her tummy balanced on the top of the slide. She shook her head, and grunted, deep and low. Her thighs clasped my waist.

I kept my hand in her, and with my other hand smacked her bottom. Hard. Four times. Stephanie lay still, relaxed. It seemed that I had the right to spank her. Provided I used sound judgement. And kept her warm. I said, “Warmth.”

And I set about stroking her, slowly again. I wondered how long it would take for her to come for a second time. We’d find out.