His response is a one of derision, but I still don’t believe he’ll go through with it. Until he begins to loosen his mask.
‘Kiss me,’ he demands, but not of me, his fingers making light work of the buttons on his shirt. ‘Don’t you want to kiss me, Mr. Smith? Kiss my cock? The rules don’t matter anymore; I win.’
He pulls Luke closer with one hand, the other reaching out to pull me closer. To pull me down to my knees.
‘Let’s begin, shall we?’ Shirt open, he relaxes once more into the chair, but I can see the tension in his fingers. The tightness in his jaw.
His eyes roll closed as Luke begins to work his zipper. It’s just as well my assistance isn’t required in the task as my hands shake.
Dan’s expression is dark and tight as he’s freed from the confines of his pants. His cock stands proud between us, and I’m struck by how oddly erotic it is watching Luke reach out tentatively to touch. His masculine hand against Dan’s satin shaft. Luke’s head suddenly falls forward greedily, the sight of his sandy head working Dan leaves me wallowing in a pleasurable sort of agony. My perceptions are distorted and muddied—I feel turned on yet needy and confused. But I’m almost surplus to requirements; a third wheel, and more possibly a training wheel, as I hold back, uncertain of my role. Unsure of my place here.
DAN
Under Luke’s attentions, my thighs and stomach tighten and flex. This isn’t the first time I’ve been sucked off by a man, but this was the first time not orchestrated by Belle. For Belle. I swallow, wondering how I’ll rationalise it this time. Would I tell myself this was Louise’s punishment? My revenge? I’d swore to myself long ago I’d never fuck on the members’ floor again, yet here I am, beginning that descent again.
Fuck. I can’t think clearly, my thoughts hazy and abstract.I’m certain this isn’t Luke’s first time at giving head.I have no interest in the man—no interest in any man. He’s just an instrument to bring Louise back to me.I hope. On instinct, I bring Louise’s hand to my mouth, kissing her fingertips before guiding them down my ribs as Luke sucks down particularly hard.
I pull her closer, kissing her mouth, simultaneously taking her hand and pressing it to the base of my shaft. She’s pliant, not hostile, and I need her touch. A moment later, the dual sensations of soft mouth and sharp nails causes me to buck and hiss. Unsure if the action was malicious, or likely to get worse, I’m struck by a sudden thought.
‘Tie her hands.’ My voice is hoarse, holding a desperate note.
Luke doesn’t move, continuing to inhale the bulk of my cock down his throat. In truth, he looks a little dazed as I help him, somewhat forcibly. Dragging the necktie from the depths of my pocket, I almost simultaneously pull Louise onto my lap. Drawing her back against my chest, I hold out her docile wrists for Luke to tie. Once suitably secured, I lift her arms over my head, spreading her legs shamelessly over my thighs.
Luke’s gaze zeros in on her bare pussy. Why would it not? The man is clearly bi, and my darling Louise is exquisitely hot.
‘You’d like to service us both now, wouldn’t you, Mr. Smith?’
‘Fuck, yeah,’ he answers, his voice thick. He dips his head but then freezes from moving another inch.
‘We’re not playing now,’ I retort, pulling Louise higher against my chest and sliding her slit along the length of my dick. The feel of her hot, wet heat almost drives me to the brink of insanity. ‘At least, not in that way.’
Tension coils in Louise’s thighs before Luke even moves, uneasy in her position as she watches where Luke’s gaze lies. The unholy union. The place where cunt and cock meet.
Is she turned on? Absolutely, but how else she’s feeling I can’t fathom. Front, centre, and in view of an audience of strange masks, had she imagined these scenes? Saw herself at the centre of things? Small snippets of conversations come back to me, and I wonder if she’d been leaving clues for me all along. Her fantasies of being tied and used were obvious, but this? Will she hate me afterwards . . . or will she love it?
She jerks as the point of Luke’s tongue caresses her exposed slit, my fingers gripping her thighs hard enough to bruise. My mouth and teeth work over her neck and shoulder, our joint attentions rendering her short of breath.
‘Let go,’ I rasp in her ear. ‘Let go of all the things you’re thinking. All the things you think you should feel. Look around you, darling, look at the people waiting for you, waiting to see you collapse at the finish line.’
Her eyes open languidly, her gaze seeking the sea of masks. ‘No,’ she whispers tremulously, jolting against me, shuddering against cock and tongue. Doesn’t she know that in this type of club, no is often used as an encouragement?
‘This is what you want, even if you’re afraid to say the words, to articulate. The walls you’ve built around yourself; they’re crowding you, hiding you from yourself.’ I know instinctively I’m reading her clearly now; seeing what I’d perhaps chosen to ignore.
‘I don’t,’ she whimpers, writhing against me again. ‘I don’t want this,’ she adds breathlessly. The actions of her body contradicts her lips as she thrusts her breast into my hand, widening her legs and moaning so beautifully.
‘Tell me then, darling,’ I plead. ‘Tell me what you want, and it’s yours.’
‘I just want you, Dan. And I want you to fuck me.’
Hers is a desire that makes the rest of the world fade away. Unsure quite how it had happened, I find myself behind her as she kneels on the chair. Her trussed hands grip the chairs back, her fingers pale. Fine wisps of her hair lift as my harsh breath brushes the back of her beautifully bowed neck.
In this moment, I agree with the Japanese, never before realising how erotic the nape of a neck could be. God, how I long to consume her. Use her, make her beg well past the point that she should.Make her beg me to stop.
I hold my body still, unsure in my control, almost not daring to even rest my hands on her hips. Until I do, pulling her back against me as I thrust into her hot, wet heat.
Louise’s body bows on impact as if she’s been twisted inside. The muscles in her back are coiled tight as my hands slide along her body, finding a resting place curled around her shoulders. With a roll of my hips, she bows with the impact again, the room around us dropping away. We aren’t surrounded by mirrors and people all clamouring to see and be seen. We don’t notice Luke on the floor, rubbing himself frantically. The world around us narrows to the scent and presence of the other. And nothing else.
I twist one hand in her hair, bringing her head up to view our joined reflections. Her expression of languid surrender transcending any mask or disguise.
