Making the Hook-Up (25 page)

I tried not to make much noise once I got through the front door, but the chirp of the alarm system that signaled my entry into the house betrayed me. “I'm home, girls,” I called out.

“We're in the basement, Master,” I heard Roni reply.

I went into the office to put my cases on the desk, taking a moment to realize that I was actually home, and then went to check on the girls to see what they were up to.

I found them on the air mattress in the middle of the basement floor, both in their kneeling positions, eyes closed and heads bowed down, as if they were both in trances. They both had their hands clasped behind their backs, and wore the outfits I had requested they wear for me tonight.

Needless to say, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

“Come to me,” I commanded.

“Yes, Master,” they both replied, crawling off the bed and repositioning themselves at my feet.

I immediately brought my beloved to her feet, so that I could give her an “I missed you” welcome-home kiss.

“Were you a good girl while Daddy was away?” I playfully asked Layla.

“Yes, Daddy,” she replied. “Roni did as she was told as well, and was here with me when we needed some attention, just as you specified.”

I looked down at Roni, who by now had begun to untie and remove my shoes and was proceeding to unbuckle my belt to remove my pants.

“I see you missed me as well, little one?” I asked Roni as I lifted her chin up so she could look at me.

Roni nodded, never even slowing down at her task. Layla began removing my shirt and tie, in hopes that, at least my guess was, I wouldn't stop them from getting the night started earlier than I wanted to.

My body began to betray me. Hell, it had been a week since I'd had sex with either of them. I don't engage in any sexual play unless my girls are with me when I'm on business, even if it is a Dominant's prerogative to do so if he chooses. No matter what my plans were, they were about to be altered just a little bit.

They both had me completely naked in no time, as Roni began to nuzzle her lips against my shaft. Layla did not disappoint either, gently biting and sucking on my nipples, while coaxing Roni to begin performing her expert deep-throat skills on me.

Roni had me coming in her mouth before I knew what hit me, and she made sure that she swallowed every drop I had to give her. I let out a loud primal growl as I was coming, which
alerted Layla that I was about to take over the whole situation.

I forced Layla to her knees, and ordered Roni into action with the single command, “Spread,” at which she quickly lay on her back on the mattress and spread her legs.

I next issued the command, “Sixty-nine,” and Layla straddled Roni's face with her pussy lips, sitting on the submissive's tongue before she dropped her own mouth down over Roni's pussy.

While they were busy bringing each other exquisite pleasure, I had time to compose myself and focus on what I had originally planned to do. I looked around the basement, checking one wall that housed the glass cases of weaponry that I used for knife play: knives, swords, smaller switchblades and the like. On the opposite wall were the St. Andrew's cross, floggers, bullwhips and electro-stimulation equipment. I made sure that the wax was in its place, still heating on the bar countertop, before I figured out what I wanted to do first.

I moved to the wall of floggers and picked out my leather floggers to use on them while they were engaged with each other.

I began to slap the flogger against Layla's ass first, since she was the one on top, increasing the intensity with each stroke across her skin. I heard her moaning while she lapped away at Roni's juices, which only inspired me to flog her harder to elicit a more audible response. To add to that, I alternated the slaps of the flogger with gentle rakes across her skin with my nails, concentrating on the same area that I'd just struck, knowing that it would give Layla the tingling sensation that would have her coming in no time.

Seeing her ass swaying with the sensations that she was experiencing from both my flogging and Roni's oral skills, I felt that it wouldn't take long to stroke her into an intense orgasm. I quickly mounted her while Roni was still eating her, and within a few minutes, everything culminated in the first orgasmic wave
that Layla would experience that night.

“Oh, god, I'm coming, I'm coming!” Layla yelled out. “Fuck me harder, please!”

I kept stroking her, feeling Roni's fingers massaging my balls while I was pumping away at Layla's swollen pussy. Every so often, I pulled out of Layla's pussy and slid it into Roni's mouth, allowing her to taste us both before penetrating Layla again. I finally pulled out a final time so that Roni could work Layla's clit and cause her to come again.

Surprisingly, I was still hard; not as hard as I was when we first got started, but hard enough for one final climax.

I whispered the command “Sit,” into Layla's ear, which meant for her to face-sit over Roni, leaving Roni's pussy and ass exposed. I then took the wax from the countertop and began to drip small trails of it onto her exposed clit.

I heard small muffled moans coming from Roni, but she did not lose her concentration. I asked Layla, “Does she want more? Her body says yes, but I want her to say it.”

Layla was still grinding her juices on Roni's face when she replied breathlessly, “Yes, Master, she wants more. I feel her nodding her head. Give her more, Master.”

I increased the amount of wax, but kept the same cadence as Roni wiggled and ground her pussy and hips to alert me that she was enjoying every minute of the torture that I was giving her. I used a warm, damp cloth to wipe away the wax that had hardened, but seeing her pussy begging to be fucked, my body finally heeded the call to duty.

Roni was so wet from the wax torture that it was as easy to enter her pussy as it had been to penetrate Layla. I didn't stay in her pussy too long, however, because I had something special in mind to bring her to climax.

I commanded Layla to crawl over and retrieve the dildo that
she uses with her strap-on harness, and to get it lubed up.

“Beg me to fuck your ass, Roni,” I ordered her. “Tell me how bad you want it in your ass, slut.”

“Please, Master, fuck my ass!” Roni screamed. “It's yours, Master, it's all yours!”

While Layla lubed the dildo, I slid a pillow under Roni's ass and slowly penetrated her anally. I managed to get my entire length inside her, and knowing how much she loves anal sex with either of us, I was certain it would be just the thing to send her over the edge. I began rhythmically stroking her, allowing her to adjust to my girth, until she received the surprise that I had in waiting for her in the form of the dildo that Layla was lubing.

Layla began teasing Roni's clit with the head of the dildo before inserting it deep into her pussy. Roni's eyes widened at the unexpected double penetration euphoria that we don't do very often because it puts her into subspace very quickly.

I adjusted Roni's hips so that both Layla and I could stroke her without getting in each other's way. With one hand, Layla was feverishly stroking away at her pussy, and with the other, she was pinching Roni's nipples hard, causing Roni to scream out loudly for her to do it harder. I kept fucking Roni's ass, which was so slick it felt like I was fucking her pussy.

“You're making me come! Oh, god, yes, I'm coming!” Roni screamed out, grabbing Layla's arm to brace against the intensity of the waves that she was feeling ripple through her body.

I pumped even harder after hearing her coming, feeling my own climax building with each stroke. I pulled out before Roni passed out and took the condom off so that I could come in Layla's mouth. The feeling was delicious, as I felt her tongue massaging my shaft to prolong the orgasm just that much longer before I pulled out of her mouth.

We all lay on the mattress completely spent, while Layla took
some ice for Roni to suck on to help her transition back from her subspace experience. It was definitely a welcome-home night that I wouldn't soon forget.

 

 

 

 

 

K
ira felt the heat. It rose like a thin fog off the Cuban sand. It was the kind of heat she'd only felt in private places, places only he touched. As she sat on the fine gray sand near the mouth of the cave, she could feel the sun awakening her to memories that made her body ache. She touched her bottom lip, rubbed it gently, closed her eyes, and allowed a past moment to rise to the surface, just above the clouds that slowly inched across the sky. Each movement gave way to the shape of bodies intertwined, reaching and touching every inch of flesh. She exhaled. A single cloud moved quickly as though blown by her breath, rushing aside to let the sun share in the moment. She opened her eyes and caught Imbe watching her as she watched the sun.

The Cuban sun was unlike the sun that touched other places in the world. The Cuban sun was only for Cuba. Its heat felt like that of two suns, twins suspended on nothing, each competing for the attention of the small island. It radiated its essence like a song permeating the heart.

Kira didn't live in Cuba, Cuba lived in her. It lived as deep within her as Imbe. He lived in her soul. Cuba was like Imbe, deep, dark and sensual, ready to give everything. That was Cuba, and that was Imbe.

“Let me read to you,” he said in a baritone hum that floated on the air.

Kira didn't answer. She smiled and continued watching the candles in the cave flicker, the light dancing on the walls with the same quick excited motions as the sounds of the Tumba. She wondered when they would go inside.

“Let me make love to you,” he said, as he leaned into her.

“What did you say?” She blushed, feigning innocence.

“Let me make love to you with words. Let me read to you.”

She lowered her head.

He tossed back his locs that were a touch beyond his shoulders. They were dark, filled with the vibrations of night. They told the story of his life over the past six years. Every experience was interwoven between every strand of hair that wrapped itself around his spirit. Each strand spoke to her, whispered his secrets to her. A loc brushed her cheek. It left her with a moment of his life she could feel but not express. It threatened to steal her away, add her to an inch of memories, maybe two or three inches of life that grew as he grew. His thin orange linen shirt, open in the front, blew in the wind. His bare chest glistened under the sun that had begun its journey into dusk. She lay back.

“Make love to me then,” she said.

“Where did we leave off?” His sly grin sent a rush of warmth through her body.

“Page sixty-two.” She turned toward him and propped her head on her arms.

“Are you comfortable?” He looked at her, almost gauging whether he was reaching her soul.

“Yes. It is always comfortable with you.”

He began to read.

The words moved about the air like black butterflies. They flew high. They seemed to create new stories in the sky. Their wings and bodies formed words, then sentences. Before Kira knew it, a world imagined unfolded on the wings of tiny life forces that were the epitome of metamorphosis. Imbe's voice transformed her, morphing her into the woman she needed to be. The black wings of the butterflies beat with her heart. They flew around Kira, landed on every part of her, and moved inside her. They were Imbe in flight. The words and the butterflies. As the image faded, the ocean waves crashed against rocks that watched over the vast landscape. They'd been there for many millennia, guarding the secrets of the shores. They'd seen intimate moments filled with passion to move mountains and stop time. They waited for yet another moment to unfold as Kira and Imbe grew through love.

“Are you listening?” Imbe asked.

“Yes, I am.”

“Then what was the last thing I read?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.”

Kira looked down at the sand, then over at the water, then at Imbe. Her eyes shined like onyx on snow as she stared into Imbe's eyes, hoping he would let her off the hook. But he wouldn't.

“I'm sorry. I was just thinking about something. But I remember some of the story, just not the last part you read.”

“What do you remember?”

He was relentless.

She sighed. “Armah was unfolding the many seasons of our existence. Throughout, he's been showing us that we are going through a two thousand season period of hardship. The
strongest point that he unfolds is his opening. That we are not a people of yesterday is a strong theme.”

“We are not. We have been here many seasons.”

“Yes, we are a people who are virtually timeless in our existence.”

“That is sensual.”

Kira laughed. She sometimes couldn't understand Imbe. But she knew that his ways moved her to imagine.

“Sensual?”

“Yes, sensual. The way of our people is so rooted in spirit, it becomes sensual in a way that is not perverted.”

“I've never thought of it that way.”

“Yes, you have, you just don't let it surface. Take you for example.” Imbe turned the book over and placed it on the sand, next to a group of pink seashells. “You are a woman of yesterday, a force that stretches across the expanse of time. The way you move is filled with history. The way you talk is laced with knowledge of the past. When you look at me, I feel my loins tense in a way that makes me want to moan. You are a sister of a different season in our lives, even as you are here in this season, moving me, making me feel like a man, giving me the opportunity to love you with a depth you could never imagine. You are history, history is sensual, you are sensual.”