134: Three Play

on January 10, 2008 in 05: The Weekend Shift

In Which Ian Is Elevated

I insisted on rinsing out my mouth and brushing my teeth before we got started. What had I been thinking, trying to get rid of my toothbrush? I probably could have used a quick jump in the showers, too, but I didn’t feel up to going back there just yet.

I could always ask Amaranth to shower with me, afterwards. Aside from making me feel safer, that would give me a chance to talk to her alone and tell her the full story of everything that had happened.

“Mack, do you think Twoey is maybe a little jealous?” Amaranth asked me when I finished and joined her and Ian in my room. “Of Ian, I mean. She tried to tell me he had to go again when I told her about the sleeping arrangements. I’ve never seen her so insistent, about anything.”

“I kind of think that might be it, too,” I said. I shrugged. I was uncomfortable with putting Two out of her own room, but I didn’t see another way to make this happen. “Then again, she’s kind of only now learning how to be insistent in the first place, so it’s hard to say.”

“Maybe,” Amaranth said, pulling at her lip. “I wouldn’t rule out jealousy, though… it seems like that can be a really destructive emotion.”

“Her master set her free when he got married,” I said. “That was the end of her life as she knew it. Maybe she’s afraid something like that will happen?”

“Hey, we’re moving kind of fast here but nobody’s said ‘marriage’,” Ian said, cracking a weak smile.

“No, but maybe she’s afraid I won’t have time for her,” I said. “Or that you’ll affect my relationship with Amaranth. She really likes the fact that I have an owner. It’s important to her.”

“Yeah, well, not much danger of that, is there?” Ian said. “I know my place here.”

“Don’t say it like that, Ian,” Amaranth said. “Every relationship is different… you can’t judge one against another. You can obviously look at Mack and see something there that’s worth your time, right?”

“Yeah, though it is a close call sometimes,” Ian said.

“Sweet talker,” I said.

“Bitch,” he retorted, but with a smile and no force.

“Well, that’s the only thing that should matter,” Amaranth said. “Now,” she said in a business-like tone as she looked down at me over the rim of her glasses. “I think you should be naked.”

“I… um… I…” I stammered. Obviously the point of going to my room with two lovers in order to have sex was having sex, but I think a part of me was hoping that could somehow happen without… well… happening.

“Those aren’t the words I want to be hearing now,” Amaranth said with a knowing smile. “You know what I want to hear, don’t you?”

I ducked my head.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said, and shucked my clothes as quickly as I could… both to make up for my initial reluctance and to get it done before that reluctance returned.

I stood looking at my feet when I was finished. Had Ian seen me completely naked? I didn’t think he had. I’d been in my underwear before. He’d seen my tits. He’d seen me with my pants down, separately. That was it, I thought.

“Now, then,” Amaranth said. “Look at me, baby.” I did. “There’s a few things we need to get out of the way first. I’ve already told Ian your safeword, and what it means. He knows what is and isn’t allowed, though we’ll get back to that in a bit… what we need to talk about now is basic assumptions. Everybody with me?”

I nodded, not sure what else would be expected.

“Now, when you have sex, Ian, who’s in charge?” Amaranth asked, leaning against him from the side and wrapping her arms around him. “Who’s the boss?”

Ian stiffened… all over. His face was almost purple. My cheeks sympathized.

“You don’t have to be ashamed to say it, Ian,” Amaranth said, her long, lithe fingers undoing his belt buckle with what seemed to be a single flick. “There’s no judgment here. In fact, I think we’re probably all on the same page… it’s just a matter of reading that page out loud.” She undid his jeans with another quick motion, and then with another she freed the end of his dick from his boxers. “So, tell us, Ian… who’s in charge?”

She circled the groove around the head of his thing with the tip of one fingernail, and it stretched and flexed in response like a cat leaning in to get scratched. Why didn’t I have fingernails like that?

“I am,” Ian groaned.

“What’s that?” Amaranth asked.

“I’m in charge?” he repeated.

“Is that a question?” she asked. “Or a statement?”

“I’m in charge,” Ian said.

“Why?” Amaranth asked. “Why are you in charge and not Mack?”

That seemed to stump him. I thought that maybe he’d never thought about it, that he didn’t have an answer, but Amaranth had other ideas.

“You know the answer,” she said. “Why don’t you give it?”

Ian seemed to be wrestling with something big. So did Amaranth, albeit only with that one finger.

“It’s because you’re a man, isn’t it?” Amaranth said. “You’re the man, and she’s a woman.”

She moved around behind him, twisting her arm so that her finger never lost its loose contact with his dick.

“You know that she has a face, and a name, and a mind, and a life… and you honestly like and appreciate her for all of those things… but when you get her in here, when you’re alone with her, she’s a slut,” Amaranth said. “She’s a bitch to be bred. She’s a cunt… to be… fucked. Right?”

Ian shook his head and mouthed no, but his dick looked ready to shed its skin and his face suggested he was nearing ecstasy with only a tiny side dish of horror.

“You’ve got conflicting feelings,” Amaranth said, stroking his cheek with her other hand. “You grew up with two very different images of how men and women are ‘supposed to’ interact. You want to be a nice, sensitive guy… but that isn’t all you want, is it?”

Still speechless, Ian shook his head.

“No,” Amaranth purred, and with the slow natural grace of a flower blossom closing, she closed her fingers around him. Not stroking, just holding. “It isn’t. And you think you can’t have it both ways… you think you can’t be the sensitive guy who treats women right if you give in to your other urges.” She buried her nose against the back of his head, breathing hard. I thought I knew what she was smelling. “But, you can… you just need the right woman. You’ve found her. Tell him, baby,” she said to me. “Tell him who you want to take charge.”

“Him,” I said, understanding that she meant between the two of us, not in general.

“No, baby, say it to him… and say it right,” Amaranth said.

I looked at her in confusion.

“Like you mean it,” she said, letting go of his dick and stepping away.

I was down on my knees before I consciously worked out what she had meant, down below him and so close that I had to crane my neck up to look at his face… incidentally, past his erect member.

“You’re in charge, Ian,” I said.

Ian’s dick quivered and strained against itself, appearing to grow visibly.

“Which means?” Amaranth prompted.

“I’m… yours,” I told Ian. The words didn’t come easily. I hadn’t expected this. I wasn’t prepared for it. I wanted it, though. “To use. To, uh, teach. To… to fuck. To control. To… to… consume.” My insides wrenched a little bit at the implications of the last one, but it seemed important somehow. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. “I’m yours.”

Good,” Amaranth said, touching me lightly on the back of my head with her nails. I craned my neck to lean into them as she scratched. “Very good.”

She guided me back to my feet. My legs were a little wobbly. Ian was looking at me with a kind of raw wonder.

“Now, would you say that you’re ready to make some changes to your list?” Amaranth asked, her voice pleasant and free of expectation. She was looking at me through rather than over her glasses. There wasn’t a hint of an order there.

I almost wished there was. I wanted this, I wanted to give myself up to Ian… but it would be easier if I had more of a push.

Also, I wasn’t sure how it would work, in the structure of my existing relationship. I didn’t want to mess anything up for the future.

“Can we call them more like ‘proposed revisions’?” I asked. “I want… I mean, I’m ready to try some things tonight… but… am I allowed to do that?”

Amaranth shook her head and clucked, a disapproving frown on her face. I shrank, abashed, but then she drew me in close, burying my face in her chest.

“Baby, haven’t you learned anything? The point of the blacklist is that it’s your body and you’re free to do whatever you want with it,” she said. “You just whisper what you want to do in my ear, and I’ll tell Ian.”

She stooped a bit, but not enough for me to reach her ear comfortably without standing on my toes and leaning up against her. This was strangely more intimate than being pressed up against the front of her body had been.

Of course, the act of whispering anything–particularly an intimate desire–was inherently naughty.

“I want Ian to… um… fuck me,” I whispered, my face reddening furiously.

“Where, baby?” Amaranth purred. “Where do you want him to fuck you?”

I froze. Of course, there was an obvious answer to this question, and Amaranth knew it. While she was probably familiar with varieties of sex I wouldn’t care to dream of, an unmodified, unqualified invitation from a woman for a man to fuck her could pretty much mean only one thing.

But she was going to make me say it, anyway.

“It’s not going to do much good if you don’t tell me where,” she said, in a whisper that was loud enough for Ian to hear. “Where do you want him to fuck you?”

“My… pussy,” I said, feeling an overwhelming wave of hot shame, the kind most people probably stop feeling when they grow out of childhood. It wasn’t until this moment that the full enormity of what I was proposing hit me.

My pussy was gross, filthy. I couldn’t let…

But then people did it every day. It was probably going on right that moment all over the campus, even in my own building.

Filthy.

“What’s that, baby?”

“My pussy,” I repeated, another hot flash of shame slicing into my body, though this one was a bit… different. Better? In any event, it chased away the bad thoughts.

“What about your pussy?” Amaranth asked, turning the knife with an expert’s care.

“I… I…”

“You know, I don’t think you do know what you want,” Amaranth said, turning away from me with startling abruptness. I almost fell over.

“I do!” I insisted.

“I’m afraid I really don’t believe you,” Amaranth said, stretching out her arm to study her perfectly shaped nails. She turned her arm so that she was incidentally looking past it at me. “It’s taking you entirely too long to spit it out, whatever it is, so I don’t think we can be sure you really want it, in any case.”

“I do know what I want!” I said, tears filling up my eyes.

“Tell me,” Amaranth said. “Tell me and make me believe.”

“I want Ian to fuck me in the p-pussy,” I said, only tripping over the last word a little. “I do. I want it!”

“Good,” Amaranth purred. “Normally, I might make you get down on your knees and beg, but I think that next part will take care of itself.” She laughed musically and glided over to where Ian stood, watching the performance in awe. She pulled off his jacket and then his shirt with far more ease than he could have managed, even wearing them. “I want your memory of your first time to last, and the best way to do that is to make sure that it lasts, too.”

She giggled at this. She got his shoes off with the absolute bare minimal movement from him, and then pulled his pants down.

Finally, he was standing in his boxer shorts with his dick sticking out.

“I’ve left the last for you, baby,” she said. “Ian’s young, but he’s been champing at the bit all day. You suck him off before we really get going, and it’ll last longer. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I almost started towards him, then fell to my knees and began crawling instead. It felt better. It felt right.

It felt good, even. Not just “more correct”, but good… reassuring, pleasing, comforting.

Ian was a man, and I was his. Not in the way I was Amaranth’s, but he’d claimed me. It helped that he’d slapped me. Even if he never did that again, it had left a mark. It wasn’t just that, though… that was just, what? A symptom?

Why was I so worried about the mess I had downstairs, anyway? Men had been fucking women since time began. It didn’t hurt them. I was a woman–a filthy slut–and that wouldn’t change if I pretended the thing between my legs didn’t exist.

Of course, I was worse than any mere human woman… but I had protection. The ring Steff had gave me was still in the dresser. I remembered her advice not to break it out early. Rated for an hour, she’d said, but she didn’t recommend riding them out to the bitter end. I had no idea how much time Amaranth was talking about, but why risk it?

I crawled towards Ian while Amaranth made approving noises. I kept my eyes on the floor, resisting the temptation to look up and check his reaction. He could make his displeasure known. Only when I saw the tips of his toes in front of me did I look up.

Amaranth stepped up behind him, embracing him once more from behind, this time running her hands on his chest. I started to raise myself, and with considerably less grace than Amaranth had managed the rest of his clothes, I worked his boxer shorts off. I gathered myself to begin my task, but Ian made a sound like he was about to speak. I stopped. When he said nothing, I got ready to proceed, but Amaranth said, “Tell her what you want.”

I sat back a bit to look up into his face. He looked down, ran his tongue nervously over his lips.

“It’s not weird,” Amaranth said. “You’re in charge. She’s yours.”

“Li… kiss my feet,” Ian said.

“You heard him,” Amaranth said. “Lick and kiss his feet.”

“I… um…” Ian said, but he couldn’t bring himself to retract his half-issued order. “Yeah. That.”

I fell to it with a passion.

It was very different from my dream of Sooni, but that had been bizarre to begin with. I don’t know what my subconscious had been thinking. There was no step-by-step instructions, just my tongue, my lips, and his feet… big, and tasting of sweat.

Why did feet sweat so much? I’d never noticed that my feet were sweating at any given time, I’d only noticed that they were sweaty after the fact.

Without guidance, I started by licking the top of his big toe. It had fine little hairs on it… another difference from my Sooni’s feet. I kissed the toenail, which wasn’t all neatly trimmed and painted but was hardly gross. I licked the ball of the toe. I would have liked to get my mouth around it and suck it, but he was standing flat-footed. It would have been awkward, and it wasn’t my place to ask him to raise it.

I traveled inland, instead, up his foot… but kept returning to his toes. I found that what I really wanted was to be lower, to put myself as far beneath him as I could be… where I should have been. I licked and kissed frantically, using my tongue more often than my lips, and using my lips to suck up his skin and taste it. It was sweaty, but it wasn’t bad. It was just part of the experience. It was… Ian.

“That’s, um, enough,” Ian said, too soon. I kept going.

Stop,” Amaranth said, in that tone, the voice I couldn’t ignore, and I did.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Now, my balls,” he said.

I wondered what Amaranth would make of this quirk of Ian’s, but of course she’d be the last person to judge. She’d probably ran into weirder. Regardless, it was not my place to question. I raised myself up. Before, we’d done this sitting, and it had been more comfortable for me to support myself while I leaned in.

Now, Ian was standing and I was kneeling, and it fell to me to find a position where I could accomplish my goal… my physical comfort was of little concern. Amaranth helped by reaching around and lifting his dick up, bringing his ball sack forward.

“Kiss it first,” Amaranth coached, and I did. “Kiss it all over. You’re lucky to have a man who lets you do this. Enjoy it.”

I obeyed, kissing those odd organs, doubtlessly covering the same ground twice in an attempt to make sure I got it all.

“Now lick,” she said. “Taste.”

I extended my tongue, wishing it was longer. The fact that I had to get my mouth right up against him in order to make real contact with my tongue was only part of it. I was sure this would be more pleasurable–in whatever way it was–if I had a longer tongue to work with. Ian was sort of moaning in his throat, anyway.

I redoubled my efforts to try and get a better response from him, and then at some point I realized I was into it, and I was sort of just doing it for the pleasure of it.

Amaranth let go of his dick and it hit me in the head, though I think that was only incidental to her purposes. She lowered herself down his back until she was kneeling behind him.

“Mmm… bitable,” she said, and Ian gave a little gasp. “I think that’s enough ballwork, baby,” she said. “Let’s go on to the main event.” I stopped, and drew back. “Don’t forget to thank Ian for letting you do that.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“For?” Amaranth prompted.

“Thank you for letting…” I stopped. I could do it. I could even enjoy it a little. I couldn’t say it. It was just ridiculous.

“If you’re going to be rude, I will fuck Ian and you can watch,” Amaranth said.

“Thank you for letting me… lick your balls,” I said, spitting out the last three words almost as one.

“Not perfect, but better,” Amaranth said. “Acceptable. Go ahead.”

I looked at his dick, which seemed bigger and thicker than ever. How exactly did he do that? The head glistened, dripping with expectation. That was supposed to fit where? I was glad that Steff, though far from pure elven “willowiness”, didn’t seem to be quite as thick as Ian. There was no way I’d ever be able to accept Ian’s package through Steff’s preferred delivery route.

I was iffy about Steff’s, for that matter, but she wanted it so badly… and she did know how to get me going.

“Second thoughts?” Amaranth asked.

“No, ma’am,” I said, and opened wide.

“Ian, I’m going to do something back here,” Amaranth said as I took just the head in. “You let me know if you don’t like it, okay?”

“Wha–ah!” Ian said. I couldn’t see past him, but judging by Amaranth’s position I had to guess she’d just indulged one of her own most bizarre quirks, which involved her tongue and other people’s assholes. I expected Ian to tell her to knock it the hell off, at the very least, but he just gasped a few more times. I still had my lips around his dick head, and I felt it pump spasmodically with each gasp. He wasn’t really coming yet, but he was close.

I sucked, enjoying the taste and feel of his male stuff on my tongue, then began to take him in. He was just too long to fit all the way in my mouth, a fact I found myself lamenting… I could get so close and then had to stop. It seemed like a shame. Not that there was anything I could do about it, of course.

Once I’d taken as much of him as my mouth would hold, I sat there for a moment enjoying the sensation. I tried not to think of any other implications of his flesh in my mouth. It was hard.

Was he thinking that, too? I felt a guilty heat in my cheeks and got to work, bobbing back and forth along his shaft, tracing the underside with my tongue, the throbbing vein-like protrusion, the rugged ridge before the tip… enjoying the meaty, sweaty taste of man, of Ian.

He was close from the beginning, and it didn’t take much work to bring him closer, especially not with Amaranth doing her thing in back. Could he really enjoy that? Well, he liked having his balls licked, too.

When I thought for sure he was about to blow, Ian put his hands on the sides of my head near the end and wrenched me back. I was a little bit confused, and hurt… but then his sweet salt spray hit me in the middle of my face and I understood that’s what he had been going for.

It wasn’t what I had been expecting. It wasn’t something I would have chosen, but of course, I wasn’t in charge.

I was his to use.

And it was heaven.

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