Fuckwit.
But I’m done with all that. I’m no longer looking for the next buzz or the next sexual high. I’ve been there, done that—bought the ball gag even. These days, I’m much more at home with my sexuality. That’s not to say I don’t keep my hand in, so to speak.Occasionallya fist. This is where my membership to the Lion’s Den comes in; the place where I have plans tonight.
I prefer to keep my private life just that, and the Den suits my needs. It’s a place where many and varied tastes are catered to by way of exorbitant membership fees. So getting back to tonight, and also returning to the topic of three being more than company and a bloody good time, I have plans with a delightful couple. Lots and lots of dirty plans.
In fact, it was at the Den where I first met my current partners in fuck, Simone and Greg. I’d taken part in a couple of threesomes before but had been underwhelmed until the night something piqued my interest.
Piqued? More like made my interest rock fucking hard.
It was a masquerade night—good for try-outs and people preferring to conceal their identities, but it was just a regular Friday night for me. I’d booked a room but hadn’t quite decided what I was in the mood for when word swept through the building that Dan was taking part in a scene.
Daniel Masters is the illusive owner of the club. And much like myself, his sex life usually takes place behind closed doors. Yet there he sat in the mirror room in a chair more like a throne, with a woman to his left and a man kneeling at his feet, both wearing very little clothes. Dan’s pants were open, his cock standing proud. There was something hypnotising and erotic about the sight—the kneeling man’s masculine hand and the girl’s much smaller one, both touching the satin of Dan’s shaft, their eyes as greedy as their hands.
The man’s head fell suddenly forward, taking Dan’s length in his mouth, his sandy head bobbing in the other man’s lap. I knew what it felt like to be sucked off by a man—the difference of a stubbled mouth and a firmer hand—but I’d never been watched. Fuck, it was a turn-on, imagining myself in Dan’s place. Imagining the girl’s hesitance and need as she watched. It wasn’t the watching crowd that interested me. It was the dynamic of the three in the scene. The way the girl’s fingers flexed by her thighs as though aching to touch herself, yet knowing she’d be denied. She was so uncertain in her role, and this called to me.Was she the third? Did she have to wait her turn? She didn’t have long to find out as Dan brought her hand to his mouth. Their eyes met, and recognition flared as he guided her fingers down his ribs and to the base of his shaft.
Two hands. Two mouths. The dual sensations caused him to buck and hiss.
Christ, I wanted to be him.
It called to me. I craved her uncertainty. I craved the control.
Because the power of three is all in the command.
‘Tie her hands,’ Dan demanded, pushing away the guy deep throating him. He dragged a necktie from the depths of his pocket, and once she was secured, Dan pulled her onto his lap, sliding her legs to straddle his and her cuffed hands over his head. Her back to his chest, he spread her legs shamelessly. Breathing ceased in the room, all eyes drawn to her shame—to her embarrassment. To the delicious wetness seeping from between her legs.
‘You’d like to service us both now, wouldn’t you?’ Though phrased like a suggestion, Dan’s words were more a command.
‘Fuck, yeah, I would.’ More than one or two in the crowd echoed the kneeling man’s sentiments.
The girl moaned softly and jerked as the point of his tongue caressed her exposed slit, and in response, Dan’s fingers gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise. Both men’s actions rendered her short of breath, and I knew right then I wanted this. I wanted to be responsible for her pleasure. I wanted to command. I wanted to bend her body and her mind, all while doing the same to him.
I wanted them both on their knees.
I wanted to be their king.
As I turned to the couple next to me, I knew by instinct they were thinking the same things.
‘Let go,’ Dan told the girl in the gold mask. ‘Let go of all the things you’re thinking. All the things you think you should feel.’
Our trio left the room right then, and I haven’t looked back since.
‘You’re fucking someone, aren’t you?’ The leather sofa creaks as Rory sits upright, and I’m faced with his suspicious glare. ‘You’d blow off your family just to get laid?’Blowingalso definitely factors into my eveningplans, strangely enough. I’m glad of the desk as I readjust myself.
‘What are you smirking about?’ he says, scowling now. ‘My fiancée gets a promotion—’
‘Since when?’
‘See, I knew you weren’t listening!’
‘I’ll send her flowers.’
‘It’s no’ even that. You’ll give Bea a complex, not to mention the monumental fucking headache you’re causin’ me.’ His accent gets heavier the more annoyed he gets. It’s like that for us both.
‘B?’ The stupid moniker comes out as a growl. Who the fuck is B—Fin is his fiancée. She might not yet be wearing his obnoxious diamond on her finger, but at least it’s graduated from dangling from a set of bloody house keys to a chain around her neck. ‘You’re asking if I’m fucking someone when you mention two girls’ names in one breath? I swear to God, Rory, if you’re seeing someone else already—’ My words grind to a halt, and I realise my hands are curled into fists on the desk.
‘Keep your knickers on. Bea is Fin’s friend—her flatmate.’
Why does that make sense? Because I’ve heard this mentioned before.
