We had discussed this last night. All of it. The club. The sex. What would be expected and just how far she was willing to go. She had agreed to kissing, to some touching. She had agreed to allow us to give her at least one orgasm, and to receive a light punishment. Mal had asked her dozens of questions and she had answered him. Her forthright speech about what made her hot, what got her pussy wet and made her squirm? It had nearly killed me. Kayson had left the room halfway through the conversation. Only Mal had the discipline to sit, ask and listen. But then, this was his world, not mine.
I wanted to fuck her, fill her ass while Mal took her pussy and Kayson came in her mouth, but that was not to be. At least not today. Kayson was on watch from the roof of a nearby building making sure we weren’t subject to any unwanted visitors or other surprises.
“Pumpkin.”
“Pumpkin,” Mal repeated. “I still do not understand this word.”
“It’s because I’m afraid I’ll turn into one at midnight.”
We both looked confused. She flushed and waved her hand to dismiss the topic. “Never mind. It’s still pumpkin.”
"Take your cover off, mate."
Smith's hands shook slightly as she removed her negligee. Her red lace panties were barely a string between the cheeks of her bottom. I could see moisture on the panties and her thighs. Her clit was a hard little nub pressed against the material.
I had to swallow at the sight.
Smith's hands went behind her back and she unhooked the bra, letting it fall away. Her breasts were full and golden, her dark nipples a hard contrast to their softness.
Mal stepped back. “Geros, touch her breasts.”
I did as instructed, the soft skin heavy weights in my hands. Exquisite. I rolled her taut nipples with my thumbs. Smith moaned. "
“You like that, don't you?" Mal asked.
"Yes, Sir." She followed his lead and used the term ‘Sir’, as he’d instructed her last night.
"Does it make you hot and wet to have him touch you like this?"
"Yes."
He turned her and slapped her butt hard enough to leave a handprint—and she groaned. Her face flushed, her chest rising and falling quickly.
He smacked her other cheek, his hand leaving a second handprint. I watched her, saw her fists clench then relax. He slapped her ass several more times, alternating between cheeks, until her skin was pink and she was whimpering with each slap.
Mal turned her and she reached for him, tried to rub her breasts against his chest. Mal pulled away from her and stepped back. "I'm leaving for a minute. I'm going to go get some things I can use to play with you."
"Yes, Sir," she whispered.
He walked away. I watched her face, saw the eagerness in her eyes, the need driving her that she had, up until this moment, hidden from all three of us.
"I'll wait with you," I said as I pulled off my own shirt, my black pants and boots nearly identical to Mal's.
He returned and pushed her back against the wall, his massive body against her, his hand in her hair, turning her head to the side, baring her throat to me. I went to her, bending to kiss her exposed throat, claim it as mine, to follow the script we had worked out in advance.
She whimpered, her fists coming up to her mouth, her breath hitching as I kissed her then moved to her breasts, pinching her nipples, rolling them between my fingers, sucking on them until they peaked.
I moved to stand in front of her, taking her hands and placing them on my chest, stepping into her, kissing her lips. Mal stepped to the side, holding a leather flogger, three strands.
I kissed her until he tapped me on the shoulder, her taste an explosion on my senses. But she was holding back. This was still a farce. An imitation of real passion between mates.
He held out one hand and she placed her smaller hand in his, allowed him to lead her to the padded table.
I couldn't take my eyes off her. She was gorgeous.
He walked with her, positioning her where he wanted her to be. Then he placed his hand behind her neck and gently bent her over the end of the table. Once she was where he intended, he lifted her arms above her head and placed loops around her wrists which he secured to the table.
Smith tugged against them and quietly hissed over her shoulder. “Really? Is this necessary?”
