Control (20 page)

I’d tell him, but all I can get out are inarticulate gasps of pleasure. My toes curl, my hands squeeze too hard into cotton and cushion – and then it comes. It blooms right through me, this immense spread of sensation, so intense that my entire body jitters.

I’m not aware of anything for a full minute, I’m sure. Which is unfortunate, because Gabe is definitely trying to tell Andy to stop, in no uncertain terms. And he’s trying to escape, too, but I guess that’s really hard when your immense cock is jammed tight in someone’s pussy, and her body is all over you like a drowning person.

‘No, no,’ he says, as he struggles – and he really has to struggle, because Andy is moaning that he can feel me coming and it’s making him come and I don’t think he could let go now if he tried.

But Gabe definitely wants him to because he repeats his concerns about hurting me, then puts a hand over his face, despairing. Before moaning, brokenly, that he can’t remember the safe word.

This time when Andy tells him to
man up, pansy
, I slap back at him so hard he stumbles back, and I almost come right off the bed with him.

‘Hey!’ he cries out, but he can go on protesting for ever. All I want to do is what I should have done ten minutes ago – reassure Gabe that I’m OK and that he hasn’t hurt me and that we’re stopping. We’re stopping, now.

But as soon as I lift myself away from him just a little, he squirms free and pushes out from underneath me. Andy slides out of me, too – both of them no longer hard, but obviously for completely different reasons.

I’ve never wished so fervently in all my life for an orgasm glow to dissipate – my limbs are all loose and lax, and Gabe’s wound tighter than a spring so he escapes me easily. My efforts at following him off the bed and out of the room amount to me sprawling over the bed in a liquid daze.

I think I shout his name. But it sounds a lot like
lane
, coming out.

I do, however, manage to tell Andy to shut up, when he asks what Gabe’s problem is. To his credit he then says that he didn’t mean to upset the guy – but I’m not sure what difference that’s going to make, now.

I think I can hear the shower running.

Andy gives me this look when the first thing I do on regaining use of my body is throw on a robe, and make for the bathroom. But surprisingly, it’s not so much a:
really – for this wet pansy?
sort of look. It’s much more like a
yeah, OK, I get it
sort of look.

I appreciate him a lot more than I did, for that.

And then I’ve got to enter the bathroom of doom, and find out how much psychological damage I’ve visited on Gabe. Have I really visited psychological damage on him? Please say I haven’t.

He isn’t crying, at least. Though I can see him through the shower door, forehead against the tiles, spray on full blast.

I shut and lock the door behind me, just in case Andy should decide he wants to take a piss or maybe taunt some more. Though I’ve got to say, somehow I doubt it. It’s all just games – he doesn’t mean any of it. This isn’t real for him, I’m sure.

‘Gabe – are you OK?’

He starts, as though he hadn’t even heard the door shut. Then he makes a bit of a show of washing himself, busily, as though he just wanted to take a quick shower before we tried putting a ball gag in my mouth.

But when I open the shower door, he backs up against the wall and sort of … I don’t know. Rolls his eyes at himself? As though his reaction was too much, but he just couldn’t help it. Any of it.

‘Honey – you weren’t hurting me. I would have said, if I wasn’t OK –’

‘I know,’ he says. ‘I know – I just didn’t –’

Then his voice kind of breaks in a way that kills me, and he turns his face into the spray. He’s got it so hot that it almost burns my skin, when I climb in with him. Robe and all.

‘I’m sorry, Maddie – I just didn’t want to. I didn’t like it – I’m sorry.’

Lord have mercy. Is that what this is about? Is that why he looks so mortified and torn up – because he didn’t want to do something?

I take his face in my hands, and he calms, somewhat.

‘It’s not what I want,’ he says, softer. Softer yet, when I kiss him, sweet and slow. ‘I like how things were before too much.’

‘You don’t have to prove anything to me, honey. You don’t. I like what you like, OK? I do – more than I ever thought I would. Don’t worry so much.’

‘I couldn’t remember the safe word, either – that’s terrible.’

He laughs a little, when I laugh. It’s a comfort. It’s a bigger one when he puts his arms around me, and I find it easy to put my own around him.

‘I over-reacted, didn’t I?’ he says, after a moment – but I just squeeze him tighter.

‘Listen – we can do whatever you want. It doesn’t have to be Andy calling the shots – it doesn’t have to be Andy at all. Whatever you want, OK – tell me what you want. You remember how much I liked that, right?’

He snorts another laugh, into my shoulder.

‘Yes. Yeah – I remember.’

‘So tell me what you want,’ I say. ‘And I can see, by the way, that you’re wanting again.’

‘Really? I thought my erection had turned invisible.’

It warms my heart, to hear him snark. Thank God no irrevocable psychological damage has taken place. Go us!

‘You can fuck me up against the shower wall, if you want. I’ll be walking funny tomorrow, but I figure that’s a given, anyway.’

It’s only been a few minutes of hugging and feelings, but he’s already progressed to the point of bottom stroking. I can’t blame him – the material feels amazing, wet. It’s really soothing, after the whole filled-to-capacity thing.

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ he says, and I tell him his concern is touching.

It really is, too – I guess because it’s so sincere. He’s not trying to protect me or act manly or anything like that. He just is, he just cares for me, I just love him. I do. In fact, I actually almost blurt the words out, in that moment.

But unfortunately he gets there before me. And not with sappy words of love.

‘I know what I want,’ he says, voice suddenly dark and syrupy. That ever-buoyant erection of his, brushing against the equally clingy and delicious material at the front of my robe.

‘What’s that, baby?’ I ask, and he replies:

‘I want you to tell Andy what to do, the way you do me.’

A
FTER I’VE TOWELLED MYSELF
off, and towelled Gabe off, too – much to his delight – I come out of the bathroom to find Andy, in front of the fridge. Of course he’s starkers, but that’s not the most disconcerting part. He’s also eating leftover pasta direct from its Pyrex dish, with his fingers.

It’s like … I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to make it easy, for me. In all likelihood, he’s just a slob. But either way I find it very simple to lean against the counter in the little black slip I’ve put on – the one that Gabe likes so much he sometimes just rubs it all over his face and body – and say to Andy:

‘What a dirty disgusting boy you are.’

Gabe doesn’t come into the kitchen, but I know he hasn’t made it to the bedroom yet, either. I told him to go in and make himself comfortable, but he’s lingering and listening, I know. He asked me in a feverish sort of voice what I was going to do, and I told him honestly – I have no idea. Mainly because I’m not sure how Andy is going to respond to this.

But, as ever, he’s quick off the mark. Good old predictable Andy.

‘Oh right – so I’ve been bad, have I?’

He smirks, and scoops up another mouthful of the meal Gabe cooked, only yesterday.

‘I’m pretty sure that you’re always bad.’

‘But in that way you like, huh babe?’

‘Oh yes. I like it
very
much. And especially because the badder someone is, the greater the punishment they deserve. Don’t you think?’

He puts the pasta dish down in this very deliberate, eyebrows raised with the maximum allowable amount of curiosity sort of way. Licks sauce off his thumb and forefinger, all devilish and cheeky.

That’s Andy, all right. Up for anything.

‘You think you’ve got the chops to punish me, babe?’ he says, and I’ll admit – there’s definitely a moment when I doubt myself. Partially, I think, because he’s just so much more solid, than Gabe. I feel like Gabe could just slip through my fingers, if I I’m not watching closely enough.

‘Why don’t you try me?’

He grins broadly, at that. Takes an almost predatory step towards me – though I stand my ground.

‘And what am I going to be punished for, exactly?’

I narrow just one eye at him. He knows, all right. He knows.

‘Let’s call it … impugning the masculinity of another man. A man that I really like a lot.’

‘Oh-ho-ho!
Impugning
. OK, babe, all right. Tell you what – why don’t we go in the bedroom, and you give it your best shot.’

He strolls past me cocky as anything, while I don’t say what comes to mind, to his back. They’re words that burn in me almost as strongly as the ones I wanted to say to Gabe, but for completely different giddy reasons.

You are
really
not going to be able to handle my best shot, Andy Yarrow
.

He makes a complete rookie mistake, right off the bat. He lets me handcuff his hands to the headboard, above his head. And he does so all sure of himself and like it’s not a big deal, so when I tell him
no, face down
, he can’t exactly refuse. He can’t really worm out of it without looking like a … what was it he called Gabe, again?

Oh yeah.
Nancy
.

So that’s how I get him, crouched awkwardly on his knees with his hands attached to my bed. And I guess that’s kind of undignified enough, but somehow I don’t really like how he’s still got his head held high, and there’s a grin all over his face that needs wiping off.

So I say to Gabe, who’s just hovering, patiently, by the bed:

‘Grab his legs and yank, until he’s face down in the mattress.’

Gabe glances at me, quick and sharp – like maybe he hadn’t even considered, that this was the turn I’d take. And of course I know that I could do the action myself – Andy’s solid, but he’s not that solid.

However it’s nice to have a big strong man, to do it for me.

‘You want me to …’ Gabe starts, but doesn’t finish. He doesn’t even wait for me to say yes, either. He just steps in front of me at the bottom of the bed, reaches forward and grasps Andy’s ankles, then yanks.

Before Andy can get out the little:
hang on a second
.

But I pay attention to it, I do. I would never say that I’m the kind of woman who doesn’t listen to her men. I like to be fair, I know that much, and there’s always the matter of safety to consider, isn’t there?

So I tell him – while he’s still flailing on the mattress, looking suddenly wide-eyed:

‘Don’t worry, Andy. If we do anything you don’t like, you can just use the safeword, OK?’ He stares back at me, over his shoulder. Actually waiting for it, I think. ‘The safeword is …’

I feel I make a good show of thinking one up. Even though I know what I’m going to name it, already.

‘The safeword is …
Nancy
. How does that sound?’

He looks madder than fuck, suddenly – but it’s the strangest thing. He doesn’t say a goddamned word.

Not even when Gabe tries to contain his smile, and his thick eyebrows go up and up, and then he waits – both of them do – to see what I’m going to do next.

Of course I have absolutely no idea. Until the actual words come out of my mouth.

‘That’s
very
nice – and so pretty,’ I tell him, because he’s kind of struggling to get up on all fours and his butt is just as big and round as a ripe peach. I want to bite it almost as hard as I usually want to bite Gabe’s, constantly.

But I refrain. For now.

Instead, I pat him there with just enough pressure that he stops squirming, a little, and behind me I hear Gabe’s intake of breath. It’s not a surprise at all when I turn back to him, and see his hand splayed on his belly, just above his erection.

‘So you’re going to spank me,’ Andy says, in a tone that deeply suggests
how original
. ‘Come on then, babe – do it, if it gets you off.’

But I just continue my sometimes prodding, sometimes patting exploration of his arse, and ask my already breathlessly excited partner-in-crime:

‘I don’t know. Do you think I should spank him, Gabe?’

‘Yes, yes,’ he moans, before I’ve barely got the words out. He sounds so turned on that my pussy tingles and grows slippery in sympathy – but then, he hasn’t had one go around yet, has he? Me and Andy – we’ve got one orgasm in the bank.

While Gabe’s just stuffed to the brim with unfulfilled pleasure, waiting and wanting and sighing with desire at the slightest thing. And so of course, I don’t deny him the hand he’s got on his cock. I just tell him to stand at the side of the bed, so that I can watch him jerk off as I play with my new toy.

He does it slow, and far too close to Andy’s turned-to-one-side face. And Andy doesn’t flinch at all, he doesn’t – why would he, he didn’t complain when Gabe’s hand was on his cock – but he
does
do something when I run one sly finger between the cheeks of his arse.

‘Or maybe I should try out what I’ve been meaning to do to you, Gabe, for what seems like
weeks
.’

Andy immediately lurches forward and away. Gabe, on the other hand, goes a brilliant, perfect red, and stills the hand on his already dripping cock. I watch him lay it palm flat to his thigh, as though he needs the firm presence of an entirely different part of himself, to keep him from jerking off.

‘Would you like that baby? You want my finger in your ass?’

Andy is the one who answers, however. Gabe’s eyes just close, those too-long eyelashes making this lovely sooty semi-circle beneath them that I’ve never noticed before.

‘No!’ he yelps, and I have to admit – I’m kind of surprised.
That’s
his limit? Something in his ass?

‘How
provincial
of you, Andy,’ I say, and then I laugh, and I’m pretty sure Gabe would laugh too – if he weren’t kind of squirming on the spot.

Because of course, he’s imagining it. I know he’s imagining it. I even see him pass a hand very close to one smooth round arse cheek, as though working up the daring to touch himself there all on his own.

But then, I’m pretty sure Gabe’s done something like it, before – maybe with his pretty little pink vibrator. Whereas Andy …

Well. He’s just a regular scrunch your face and bury your head in the sand sort of guy. The kind of guy who whimpers, when I hold him fast with one hand at his hip, and slide my finger between, again.

‘Don’t be a baby,’ I tell him. ‘I did this just fine, not so long ago. And I hear that girls have hardly any nerve endings in there at all, while guys …’

I press down hard on the locked up tight pucker of his arsehole. He jerks forward as though struck.

And it’s the first time he moans, too. His hands are clenching and unclenching , straining against the cuffs, and I just can’t believe it’s really this easy, to take someone apart. To have them writhing and gasping and panting no.

While the safeword goes completely untouched.

‘Pass me the lube, Gabe,’ I say, and he does so gingerly. It’s still on the bed, and almost underneath Andy’s body, so when he leans forward to grab it his cock gets very close to brushing a whole bunch of stuff.

I don’t think he can take the slightest pressure on it. Especially not any pressure that involves Andy’s skin.

But once he’s passed me the small tube, he does lay a sudden and inexplicable hand on Andy’s curved back. Tells him:
feels good, doesn’t it?
It’s somehow the sweetest gesture, and Andy doesn’t say a word in reply.

But he does come very close to pressing back against my slick finger, when I slide it back between the cheeks of his arse. And Gabe glances up at me, those sharp little lower teeth bared, and says in this wondering voice:

‘He’s really hard. Really hard.’

‘How many do you think I should fuck him with? One?’

I can’t tell you how thrilled Gabe looks, to be consulted.

‘No – no. Two. Use two.’

‘Is that what you want me to do to you, baby? Do you want me to fuck your sweet arse like this?’

I circle Andy’s fluttering hole, and hear his breathing roughen.

‘No,’ Gabe says.

Strangely, it’s
his
denial that makes me pause. And almost giggle, when Andy clearly backs into me for a little more of that stroking action. I don’t blame him – no matter what I said about girls and nerve-endings and what the fuck, having your arsehole circled with a slippery mess of lube is just … glorious.

‘No – I want you to … I want you to bend me over and fuck me with something. I want you to really fuck me – I do. Like in
Boss Lady
– like in that.’

He doesn’t even look mortified about saying it, either. It comes out all in a rush, but only because he’s semi-touching himself as he says it.

I hardly notice Andy’s arse giving, to let one of my fingers slide smooth and slow, inside. I’m too busy growing jelly-legged and so swollen and slippery between my legs, it’s painful. I fuck in and out of Andy almost absent-mindedly, because I’m too busy thinking of Gabe’s lithe body spread out beneath mine.

I’m too busy watching him rub and then tighten his hand around his cock. Rub and then tighten, rub and then tighten. His thighs are trembling.

‘He feels so silky – I didn’t even think,’ I tell Gabe, and both men give these little shocked cries of pleasure.

‘What else?’ Gabe asks, and I thrust in deeper, harder.

‘I can feel his arse clenching around my finger, and if I twist just a little, like this –’ I do so. ‘ –you can see him reacting to it, even when he’s trying not to.’

Andy shudders – though in all honesty, I don’t think he’s trying not to, any more. He’s rocking back against my slowly thrusting finger, and when I add a second one, he mumbles something that might be
so
good
.

‘I didn’t think he’d like it so much,’ Gabe says, with a little frown that comes and then goes as soon as it appeared, but Andy doesn’t even argue with him. He’s too far gone, now, and I’m pretty sure I’m hitting his prostate on every stroke. It’s much more distinct than I would have imagined, in both feel and its effect.

‘You know what I think he’d like even more?’ I say, while Andy moans
fuck no, no
. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d guessed, before I finish what I’m bashing on about. ‘I’d bet he’d love your cock in his arse, Gabe. I bet he’d love that so much, getting filled and fucked with that great big thing of yours. Don’t you think, baby?’

Andy strains against the leash, snaps his head around and spits out a
no, no, you’re
not
doing that, Maddie, fuck!

But yet again, he doesn’t say the safeword. I mean, it’s entirely possible that he’s forgotten it. Or maybe I was just too cruel in the choosing of it, and now he’s all emasculated and messed up inside.

Only he goes right back to moaning, when I stroke and rub my finger over that neat little bump inside him.

And Gabe is just a shuddering, dissolving mess. I think he knows more than Andy that I’m not serious, but he’s sweating just the same, and when I tell him to lay a hand on Andy’s arse, he obeys me. I tell him to slap down hard while I fuck in and out, and he comes close enough to trail the tip of his cock along Andy’s side.

‘Would you like that baby?’ I whisper to him, and he kisses me – long and wet. He only pulls away so that he can slap Andy’s arse again, and this time he really gives no quarter. He brings his hand down so hard it leaves a red print, and Andy calls us both fuckers, absolute fuckers.

‘I’d do anything for you,’ Gabe says, and though I think he’s doing it to tease Andy, I think he really would. He honestly would. So I tell him, in reply:

‘No, baby. I’d do anything for
you
. Anything you want, just say the word. Anything.’

‘Really?’ he says. ‘Really?’

‘I promise – just tell me.’

He hesitates, and let’s his gaze trail over Andy’s curved and gleaming back. And when he speaks it’s shy, like it was before when he asked for the same thing. But I give it to him – I want to give it to him.

We go through to the living room and make love on the couch, while from the bedroom Andy calls us every name his extremely inventive brain can think of.

He’s as mad as hell when we finally get back to him. I won’t lie – I did a lot of it for show. But then again, Gabe makes it extremely easy to cry out
oh, it’s never been like this before
and
do it harder, God, harder, yes – now, now!