In return, Colin’s eyes traced laser-hot tracks from my face to the wide-open split
of my legs, leaving me as hot and throbbing as if he’d actually touched me.
“You keep your pussy bare now,” he grunted. “I like it. I
want
it. I want it, I want it, I
want
it, Sir,
please
.”
“I know you do, but you’ll be no use to Rachel in that condition,” Julian said. He
held out his right hand for more aloe gel and immediately lavished it on the swollen,
tingling folds of my pussy, massaging my inner lips and clit with unmistakable intent.
I groaned. “Not again, Sir, please.”
“Oh, I think yes, slave.”
With his other hand, he adjusted the knobs again before returning to tweak my nipples.
Colin whined deeply, panting, writhing, all but dancing in his bonds. His cock looked
incredibly swollen, like an overstuffed sausage about to burst its casing as it moved
up and down in long sweeping bobs that seemed almost deliberate. From this height,
I could finally see a pink gel ring squeezing the base of his cock and scrotum.
Julian’s fingers slid over me harder, faster, deeper, and it dawned on me that he
intended to make us both come at the same time. Arousal seared me like the lightning
still crackling from the Tesla coils, making me tense and arch.
“Ah, fuck,
pleeeeeease
…” Colin cried.
Julian tweaked another knob and Colin whimpered, and then let loose a series of hoarse
shouts as semen trickled from his cock in long, hard contractions.
The sight was enough to pull me over the edge along with him. Even as I imagined the
taste and regretted the waste of his come, I was seized by orgasmic contractions that
left me breathless. Julian didn’t let up on me until Colin hung motionless in his
restraints, seemingly dead to the world.
I knelt on my bed, rubbing more moisturizer into Colin’s torso and arms as I watched
him drift in a light sleep. I thought I’d never in my life witnessed anything so unbelievably
sexy as his reluctant orgasm at Julian’s hands—except without the hands, or stimulation
of any kind besides the electrodes on him and inside him.
Then I’d witnessed the aftermath and been utterly blown away.
Sitting in a comfortable chair Dirk brought me from another room, I’d watched with
fascination as Julian removed some kind of ring from just below the head of Colin’s
penis and carefully extracted a long, slim electrode from his urethra. Colin had jumped
and whimpered when Julian reached under his scrotum and slowly pulled out a massive
metal butt plug electrode.
Wow,
I’d mouthed. And
Ow
. The thought of it made my cheeks clench together even now. There’d better not be
anything like that in store for me.
Vince, whom I’d lost track of at some point, appeared with a pair of sweats and helped
a groggy-looking Colin step into them. Then he’d handed him a bottle of water and
nudged him toward Julian’s outstretched arms.
Looking at me with a strange combination of wicked mischief and self-consciousness,
Colin had cracked open the water as he settled onto the lap I’d occupied only moments
before and let Julian perform the same moisturizing ritual he’d performed on me. He
had the water gone in no time flat and let the bottle drop to the floor as he relaxed
into Julian’s hands.
It was indescribably beautiful to watch. Julian kept his nose against Colin’s neck
and jaw as he worked, as if he couldn’t bear to be denied the scent of his skin. Half-naked,
Colin looked small sprawled out on top of Julian’s fully clothed body. Seeing their
faces side by side, he looked younger and softer, too. They were almost a study in
opposites—and they clearly loved and trusted each other deeply. Why had it never occurred
to me five years ago that they might be lovers?
Because I would have been devastated, that’s why. I’d be devastated right now if I
hadn’t been exactly where Colin was just a few minutes earlier, if Julian hadn’t played
with me as though I were every bit as much his toy. I reminded myself sternly that
they’d been together for years, while I’d been here less than a day—it would be foolish
to believe what I’d experienced with Julian was the same kind of love.
But my unruly heart couldn’t help hoping it might be someday.
Julian had slid one of his big hands into the front of Colin’s sweats and massaged
his genitals, pulling rumbling groans from deep inside him. Colin didn’t open his
eyes, but simply undulated in time with the bold strokes.
Then Julian pressed Colin’s chin toward him and claimed his mouth in a blunt declaration
of carnal ownership.
That’s when I’d started to feel the resurgence of tingly arousal.
As if he had some kind of hotline to my hormones, Julian grinned at me when he gave
Colin a final lick and pulled away. “I think you’d better take Rachel to bed now,
Colin. She looks lonely.”
“Yes, Sir,” Colin replied in a drowsy tone. A chuckling Dirk had helped him off Julian’s
lap, and he and Vince had half-carried him to my room while I gave Julian the soft
kiss goodnight he’d asked for with a crooking finger and a pucker.
Then I’d wandered to my room, completely bemused and only vaguely aware that I was
totally naked.
Colin finally opened his eyes and smiled. “Rachel.”
I smiled back. “Colin.”
He sighed and cupped my cheek. “Jesus, I’ve missed you so much.”
I blinked. “Really?”
“Really.”
He pulled down and gave me the long, leisurely tongue kiss I’d dreamed about long
after he vanished from my life. Colin kissed like he had all the time in the world
for it, like kissing was all there was, and I’d adored it. He was such a bad boy,
and yet such an attentive kisser. Maybe that’s why so many women were attracted to
bad boys—they were the only ones who really knew how to kiss.
And Colin
was
a bad boy, at least in my mind, and I’d thought so long before we were lovers. He’d
acted like he was exempt from the rules that governed the rest of us, always so full
of pent-up energy he seemed like a bomb about to go off. He was constantly cutting
in line at the cafeteria, not paying for fruit he grabbed on his way out, showing
up late for rotations and usually looking as though he’d just come off a hard night’s
drinking, telling his patients and their families to ignore visitation hours, bringing
in fast food for diet-restricted patients…
He got away with it all because he was so brilliant and charming and Dr. Kilmartin’s
prize resident. His brazenness pissed me off on an almost hourly basis, but I just
bit my tongue and waited for him to finally get what was coming to him.
Then one day he’d turned those devastating eyes blue on me and asked me out. Taking
my wide-eyed shock as acceptance, he’d dragged me to his beat-up old Camaro, picked
up a pizza he’d already ordered at a drive-through window, rolled two stop signs on
the way to my apartment, and gotten me under him in my bed, graying out from multiple
orgasms, that very evening.
Bad, bad boy, Colin Carter was.
As if to prove it, he pushed his sweats down and kicked them off without breaking
lip contact. He pulled me over him with a sigh and I spread my thighs around his hips,
rocking eagerly as the kiss heated up.
Breaking away, he breathed, “Ride me, Rachel.”
I sat up. “Really?”
“Why do you keep asking that?” he asked. “Of course, really.”
“Well you never let me be on top when we were together before.”
“I was always too impatient,” he said with a sleepy-eyed smile, molding my breasts
with his hands. “That’s why Julian turned my gonads inside out earlier, so I could
take my time and do more then bend you over the bed and fuck you brainless.”
Hot lust erupted in my belly. “I never minded.”
“And I loved that about you, trust me,” he murmured. “Now back up and get on my cock,
slave. I feel like letting you do all the work for a change.”
I complied without hesitation and nearly cried with happiness as my swollen, tender
opening spread to accept his lovely cock. “Oh, God!”
His stomach jumped with a low laugh. “No, it’s just me. Are you all right?” He asked,
searching my face avidly. “Is this too much tonight?”
“Mmm, no, I’m good. It feels…really good.” But I appreciated his asking. There was
a time he wouldn’t have.
He stroked my nipples with his thumbs. “You missed me too, didn’t you, Rachel?”
Looking down at him through my lashes, I said, “Maybe.”
“Admit it or I’ll get on top and make you.”
“Okay, I missed you.” I let my hands slide up his furry chest. “A lot.”
Tears spurted down my cheeks before I even knew they were coming. Horrified, I tried
to turn away, but his hold on my breasts tightened and I gasped as the tears ran faster.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying.”
Colin slid a hand up behind my neck and pulled me down, hugging me. “Shh, it’s okay.
It’s normal to experience sub-drop after an intense scene, and it was your first time.
I’d be surprised if you didn’t drop at least a little. Just relax and let me hold
you.”
“Okay,” I choked.
I lay there, breathing deeply and dripping tears on his shoulder for a long while,
comforted by his hand sweeping slowly over my back. Why wasn’t he this nice five years
ago? On second thought, it was probably a good thing he wasn’t, otherwise I’d have
been completely in love with him, instead of just a little bit in love and a lot wary
of him. That would have made his vanishing act hurt a lot more.
Of course, if he’d been nicer, he might not have pulled the vanishing act in the first
place.
I sighed, licking a tear off his skin. Then I noticed that his erection, still firmly
buried inside me, hadn’t flagged in the least and giggled.
“What?” he demanded suspiciously.
I giggled again. “You’re—” Yet another giggle erupted. “You’re still
hard
!”
He chuckled. “Well yeah. I’m not done yet.”
“Aren’t a woman’s tears supposed to be the biggest boner-killer ever?”
“Only if a guy’s a pussy,” he snorted. “Trust me, it would take a lot more than a
little salt water to kill this boner. So are you going to ride me or do I get to be
on top now?”
I pushed up immediately. “I’m riding.”
“Then get busy, slave.”
Colin let me ride him to the breathless end, but true to form, he managed to get a
finger deep into my butt with just the secretions from my body. I think it was still
there when I fell asleep.
* * * * *
The next morning I woke before sunrise without a trace of new-place disorientation.
Colin was still sawing logs behind me, and I snuggled back into his fragrant warmth,
wide-eyed with wonder.
Last night had
happened
. After all these years of waiting and wishing, I’d been thoroughly mastered by the
larger-than-life man of my dreams, and then crawled into bed with the only other man
who’d ever really meant anything to me. And the two of them were engaged in their
own D/s relationship.
It was like a neon triangle that had only been lit on two sides and the third had
finally flared to life last night, creating a radiantly complete shape.
What kind of triangle it was, I couldn’t say. Ideally it would be isosceles, with
three equal sides, but at the moment it felt more scalene, with the longest, brightest
line connecting Julian and Colin, and the shortest and most tentative connection between
Julian and me.
This line between Colin and me, though—it just felt right, as if we’d only been apart
for days instead of years. As if we’d always been together and always would be.
It occurred to me that I still loved Colin, and more than just a little. I
loved
him. Madly.
My feelings about Julian were less clear, which made me almost glad he hadn’t joined
us in bed last night. But I was
so
glad I’d waited to experience dominance and submission with him first. He was everything
I’d ever hoped for times a thousand.
It scared me now to remember how close I’d come to giving my submission to someone
else.
Almost two years ago, when the need to know had grown too difficult to ignore, I’d
begun researching and exploring the lifestyle online and met Master Rod in a BDSM
chat room. He was just the right mix of inquisitive, funny, protective and masterful,
and when we started Skyping—without video, at first—I’d discovered he had a British
accent, which I’d received as almost a sign from God. He was as close as I was going
to get to Julian without actually having Julian.
Then we’d added video, and the long brown hair trailing around his shoulders had kind
of spoiled the effect. I’d told myself to snap out of it—he wasn’t Julian and it wouldn’t
be fair to either of us to pretend he was. I’d gradually succumbed to his encouragement
and begun doing things—sexual things, out of sight of the webcam—that would have curled
my mother’s hair, and when we finally agreed to meet, I thought I was ready. I met
him at the airport when he flew in from a business meeting in New York and was giddy
with excitement and nerves when he took me out for a very nice dinner.
Then he took me to a private BDSM club, where had had some kind of reciprocal membership
with a London club. He offered to show me around, let me watch others scening on the
main floor, but I was too impatient. I’d watched plenty of scenes online—now I wanted
to be the one scening.
Sensitive to my newness, he’d taken me to a private room—private being a relative
term, since there was no door. Once there, he’d shown me a flogger and described what
he intended to do, then told me to undress. As I did, an overpowering sense of wrongness
had gripped me. I told myself it was just cold feet, like those most every bride got
right before she married her Mr. Right, and forced myself to let him cuff me to a
cross, facing him.