Sully lay in the middle. He reached to either side of him and found Brant and Clarisse’s hands. “Love you, guys.”
“Love you, too, Master,” they echoed in unison, setting off giggles in Clarisse and laughter in Mac.
“Stereo,” Sully said. “Ahh, gotta love it.”
* * * *
Mac loved the feel of the sun against his naked body. A nearly perfect day, the two people he loved, a quiet boat, and a calm Gulf.
Perfection.
He’d dozed off when Sully squeezed his hand, waking him. “Ready to head in, Brant?”
Mac lifted his head, feeling a little groggy. “How long’s it been?”
“It’s nearly three.”
“Holy crap.” He sat up. Clarisse was already up and dressed. Sully was standing, leaning over, a pair of shorts on. “How long was I asleep?”
“Over an hour.”
He rolled over and climbed to his feet, stretching. “Wow. I’m surprised I’m not charbroiled.”
Clarisse held up a can of spray suntan lotion. “Got ya covered, Sir.”
“Ah. Smart pet.”
“I try.”
They ate their lunch of sandwiches before Clarisse shut off the genny and cranked the engines. Mac made his way forward to the bow to make sure the anchor windlass coiled properly. Clarisse bumped the throttle just enough to put a little slack in the line as it started coiling.
Once the anchor was stowed and Mac had made his way back to the wheelhouse, Clarisse punched in their return course and got them turned around.
“This was a nice day,” Mac said. “We should do this more often.”
“Hey,” Sully teased. “I asked you if you wanted to keep doing boat rules.”
“I don’t just mean that,” Mac said. “I mean this. Together. This is nice.”
“Yeah, and once the boys are old enough to come out with us, that’ll effectively end the era of boat rules.”
Mac sighed. “I know.” He wrapped his arms around Sully from behind and rested his chin on Sully’s shoulder. “We’ll have to get more creative the older they get.”
Clarisse giggled. “They’re already creative. They’re going to be a handful when they’re older, if they’re anything like their fathers.” She cast a loving gaze at them from where she sat behind the wheel. She knew this boat even better than Mac did, having first practically grown up on it with her uncle and aunt, and then supervising the later refits to it to turn it into a fish-and-dive charter boat instead of a commercial fishing vessel.
“You mean more of a handful than they already are?” Sully asked. “Maybe I should book more out-of-town speaking engagements,” he teased.
She leveled a finger at him. “Don’t you dare. Master,” she quickly added. “I need all the help I can get with those two.”
“You know I’m just teasing, pet.” He patted Mac’s hands and turned in his embrace. “But I do think I know someone who might be in need of a quick paddling before we get too close to shore.”
Mac let out a happy sigh. “Yes, Master.” He headed for the hatch to go below decks. They couldn’t do much impact play at the house with the boys there for fear of them hearing. Two inquisitive toddlers were not conducive to loud play.
Behind him, he heard Sully kiss Clarisse. “We’ll be back up in a few.”
“Take your time, boys,” she said. “We’ll be at least ninety minutes before we reach the dock.”
Mac had already stripped and leaned over the galley table between the booth seats.
“Just what I wanted to see,” Sully said, grabbing Mac’s ass cheeks and squeezing, hard.
Mac’s head dropped, his eyes falling closed. Around them the low throb of the diesel engines and the sound of water against the hull helped drown out his pounding pulse.
Sully grabbed the back of Mac’s collar with his left hand and laid the cool wood of the paddle against his ass cheeks. “Sorry this will be quick and hard, slave,” Sully said. “Next week we’ll get a couple of hours while Clarisse takes the boys to visit Tad.”
“Yes, Master,” he said.
The first impact was stinging, hard, loud, the
crack
slicing through the cabin even as the pain bit through his nervous system.
Yeesss…
No, Clarisse wasn’t a pain slut. She didn’t need it the way he did.
She didn’t need the mental reset.
He
craved
it. He’d take everything Sully would throw at him and then some without a single complaint.
Sully paddled him, hard, with just enough time between strokes to allow him to process each one before the next landed, but not slowly enough to give him time to think about them and throw off his rhythm. By the time Sully finished, Mac had a nice, hot, glowing red ass, and a raging hard-on to boot.
He heard Sully lay the paddle on the galley counter. With his left hand still firmly gripping Mac’s collar, Sully reached around Mac and grabbed his cock, stroking it.
“One of the many things I love about you, slave,” Sully whispered in his ear. “I love that you’ll take that for me and it makes you hard and horny for me.”
Mac, beyond words, flexed his hips against Sully’s hand, wanting more traction against his throbbing cock.
Sully yanked him up and off the table and pushed him ahead of him, forward to the larger cabin. There, Sully turned him around, kissed him ferociously, and then shoved him backward onto the bunk.
“Legs up, slave. I want to watch your face while I fuck you.”
Mac grabbed his knees and drew them up while Sully put down a towel under Mac’s ass. Sully shoved down his shorts and slicked his cock with lube before working a generous amount of it into Mac’s ass.
“Lucky for you,” Sully said, “beating your ass makes me fucking horny as hell.”
He pressed the knob of his cock against Mac’s rim and slowly pressed forward, breaching his ass and giving him time to adjust to the intrusion. Once he’d worked his cock all the way into Mac’s ass, filling him, he reached down and twisted Mac’s nipple rings until he cried out.
“That’s right,” Sully said. “I control the pleasure and the pain, don’t I?”
“Yes, Master!” he gasped.
“Ask me for what you want.”
“Please pound my ass, Master!”
Sully’s lubed hand encircled Mac’s cock, stroking him even as he started thrusting. “Oh, I’m going to do that, all right. But you’d better come before I do, or you’ll be holding it for several days.”
With his ankles over Sully’s shoulders, Mac felt his climb start as Sully’s cock hit him perfectly in the sweet spot with every thrust. He stared up into Sully’s grey eyes, knowing he was exactly where he wanted and needed to be—under this man.
It didn’t take long for Sully to wring an orgasm out of Mac, his cock exploding in the other man’s hand, coating his belly with cum.
“Good boy,” Sully whispered before fucking him in earnest, pounding his ass, driving Mac up the bed until Sully finally came and fell still.
He leaned in and kissed him. “Love you, Brant.”
Mac smiled up at him. “Love you, too, Sully.”
“You have my permission to bend Clarisse over in the bathroom and fuck her brains out when we get home. I’ll watch the boys while you do. We’ll tell them you’re in the shower.”
Mac laughed. “Well, that part will be true.”
They cleaned up in the head and made their way back to the wheelhouse. Clarisse smirked at them. “I take it I’m getting nailed when we get home?”
Sully and Mac took turns leaning in to kiss her. “Are you complaining, sweetheart?” Sully teased.
“No, just making sure. It’s not my fault you two are so sexalicious.”
“Is that a word?” Mac asked.
“Considering she’s using it to describe us, I won’t question it,” Sully said.
The men flanked her as she sat there, manning the controls. With the seas still gentle, it was almost akin to driving a car, without having to worry about the direction or size of the waves or how the wind was hitting them.
Heaven, Mac thought. Absolute heaven.
Beneath their feet, the engines throbbed, the boat’s heartbeat, gently carrying them back home.
Sometimes, even a Dom needs to whip himself into shape…
* * * *
Crack!
Seth frowned as he stared at the pristine target hanging from an oak tree in the back yard. He hadn’t meant to crack the whip, simply nail the target.
A double fail, in other words.
From the shade of a tree behind him, Leah softly laughed. “You want me to show you how it’s done?”
“Smart ass.”
“I’m not the one who hasn’t practiced in over a month.”
He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Be glad I’m not practicing on your ass.”
“Oooh, please don’t throw me into the briar patch.”
“Hmph.” Seth turned back toward the target, a paper napkin hanging from a lower branch, suspended by a clothespin tied to the branch with a piece of string. Yes, he’d gotten out of practice. But they were teaching a class on whip handling next weekend at Venture, and he needed to shape up beforehand.
He took a deep breath to settle himself, shook out his arms, and tried again.
This time, he didn’t crack the whip, but he didn’t hit the target, either.
“Dammit,” he muttered.
Behind him, he heard Leah get up and walk over. “Would you prefer I showed you what you’re doing wrong, or let you keep getting more frustrated?” In the past five minutes, he hadn’t hit the target once.
Totally unlike him.
“What, exactly, are you planning to show me?”
“You’re too tense, for starters.”
She held out her hand and he relinquished the singletail to her. Stepping out of her way, he watched as she shook out her arms, then took a couple of gentle underhanded test swings at the target to gauge her distance.
Then she settled into a relaxed stance before drawing her arm back and flicking the whip forward.
The napkin target barely moved, but a chunk suddenly disappeared from the bottom of it.
She took four more swings, each time nipping a little more from the target without cracking the whip, either.
Turning, she coiled the whip and handed it to him. “You’re too tense, too stiff. You’re stopping your wrist too soon. That’s why it cracked. You didn’t follow through to the target.”
“You and Kaden always make this look easy. Made.” He went silent as he stared at the kangaroo-hide singletail in his hands.
She slipped her arms around him. “He’d be so proud of you, you know.”
Seth nodded. “Of you, too.”
She smiled up at him. “Well, I’d hope so. Wouldn’t want him coming back and haunting the crap out of us because we weren’t living up to expectations.”
That finally drew a laugh out of him. He pulled her into his arms, his face buried in her hair. “The ghost of Christmas kinky?”
“Exactly. Now just relax. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself.” She disengaged from their hug and walked over to the tree. There, she removed the target and hung up another napkin in its place. “Maybe I should make you practice on my ass,” she teased as she returned to his side.
“Not yet. Let me get back into fighting form first. Going after your ass when I’m this out of practice will only make me more nervous.” They’d had midterms, lots of studying for their exams for the college business classes they were taking together. He’d barely had time to think, much less work on other pursuits. Now, with the semester break in full swing, he could relax.
And work on his swing, so to speak.
After a couple of test swings to gauge his distance, he threw the singletail for real. This time, he hit the napkin. Not exactly where he’d intended to, because it ripped it free from the clothespin.
But at least he’d hit it without cracking the whip in the process.
“There you go,” Leah said, walking over to reset it for him. “See? Just have some patience.”
After about an hour of practice, where he worked on his aim with his left as well as his right arm, he was done. “Let’s go take a dip in the pool, babe,” he said.
She smirked. “Giving up for the day, huh?”
“No, not giving up. Resting. I don’t want to overtax myself.”
“Uh-huh. Suuure.” She picked up the old napkins as well as others that hadn’t been shredded yet.
“No, really. Wouldn’t want me to throw something out, would you?”
She grinned. “Nooo, Sir. We wouldn’t want
that
to happen.”
“You could at least try for a serious face.”
She snorted. “I thought you never wanted me to lie to you?”
“That’s not lying. That’s preserving what little shreds of dignity I have remaining. You know whips didn’t come naturally to me. Not like a bicycle. You sure you don’t want me to use a paintball gun on you?”
“No, Sir. No paintball guns. You’ve got this.”
“Easy for you to say.” He opened the door to the lanai for her, indicating for her to go first.
“You need to quit being a perfectionist,” she said. “That’s a majority of your problem right there.”
“I’m not a perfectionist.”
“You are. You want to do things exactly right when they don’t need to be exactly right.”
“Yeah, and it’s your ass on the line. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She set everything on the lanai table and pulled her T-shirt up and off over her head. She didn’t have a bra on. The only reason she had clothes on at all was they’d been out in the backyard. “You worry too much sometimes.”
“It’s my job to worry about you.”
“It’s your job to take care of me,” she said as she kicked off her shorts. “It’s not your job to incessantly worry about me in ways that only serve to waste your time and energy.” Having said that, she jumped into the deep end of the pool, surfacing only a moment later and treading water. “You coming in?”
He stripped off his T-shirt and shorts and left them on top of her clothes before he cannonballed into the water. He broke the surface shaking his head and splashing water everywhere, making her giggle.
Before she could get away, he reached out and snagged her arm, dragging her close and kissing her. “If I say it’s my job to worry about you, I’ll worry about you.”
With her arms draped around his neck and her legs wrapped around his waist, it didn’t take long for Seth’s cock to harden in the comfortably warm water.