Valentine’s day 22

You know, what seems simple as you drift off to sleep is never quite the same as dreams fade. I know I had a great idea that put me at my ease but now I just can’t recall it.

My eyes drift across the softly snoring form of my Sara. I could have Tara wield the whip, but no she’s not ready for that. Leashes and walkies? No, Sara dislikes humiliation and she’s done nothing to deserve a punishment. Simple may be best.

I slip out of bed and pad to the closet. Simple slacks and a buttondown worn untucked. The grey slacks and cream shirt with the herringbone buttons. Clothing is a form of armor but in this case merely a canvas for later ventures.

I walk the five feet back to the bedroom and see Sara watching me. My smile pours out; matched by her grin until, like a candle, it’s snuffed out. I school my face to impassivity. A cool mask belied by wicked eyes.

“First position,” I purr.

Languid, almost boneless, Sara falls graceful as a cat to her knees. She leans back. Sitting on her legs folded underneath, shoulders thrown back, eyes cast down.

“Wait here, in position, until I return.”

“Yes Sir,” her voice a deep pool of acceptance.

I walk to Tara and gently shake her awake. Her eyes slowly open, telling me that her sleep is feigned. Never in the time I’ve known her has she ever woken so easily to a interrupted sleep.

“Put on your collar, my little fox. Let us go for a walk in the garden.”

Walking in the garden is something we do when dear Tara is feeling a bit more animal than human.

Proudly, Tara places her new collar around her neck, pulling the clasp closed but not tightly. I reach down and cinch it down. Close enough to not chafe but not so tight so as to choke. Tara reaches into my pants for her lead and pulling the soft leather leash snaps it into place. Shyly looking at me, she places the lead into my hand. I beam at my dear pet. I know she’s seen Sara do this but I didn’t expect her to be so equally bold.

I lead her to the black oak toy chest and pull the chrome butt plug with fox tail from its position. She shifts and smiles up at me, skipping my heart a beat. With thoroughness, her eyes a heady weight on my motions, I slather the plug in velvety lube.

“Present, please,” my voice soft but full of command and desire.

Tara turns and leans against the hardwood floor, cheek pressed flush, head turned, presenting the soft pink pucker for her present.

I run my fingers around, exploring the edges. Soft, pleasant loam drifting from her. I work the remaining lube over her. Into her, probing with wet fingers, the slight hitch in her breathing my reward. I press the point of the bulb in. Meeting with resistance then relaxation sucks it in as I press, inexorably, in.

And voila, my foxy girl has her tail. And a gentleman has his pet.

Valentine’s Day 20

The steam billows out the open door, swirling and concealing. I wait, holding a towel open for Sara. She steps into my arms and I work the towel over her wet skin. I savor these two minutes where she is trapped against me. She could say no at any time; she could call red and we would just relax for the rest of the evening.
“Your clothes are on the bed. Put them on then make me a Mojito,” I say.
Sara leans against me, the curvature of her body pressing in. The hot smell of lemon and basil drifts up from her hair. Her lips press against my ear and she whispers, “Yes, Sir.”
She pulls away, her hand trailing against my arm, soft fingertips playing against my arm.

I catch her hand in mine and pull her back in.

I whisper in her ear, “Bring me the leather clad wooden paddle, the one I like.”

I dismiss her with a flick of my eyes and turn my attention to the wet and shivering Tara.
I swaddle Tara in the still damp towel and pull her to me. I find myself thinking about spanking Sara while I take my pleasure with Tara. It’s impossible but I grow painfully hard with the thought.
I thought I would need longer to recover and, truthfully, there is no chance at a orgasm from me but I still need this. I look into Tara’s eyes and she looks eager. Like a puppy about to be given a treat. I guess she can feel me through the towel.
I catch her wrists and push her to the bed, nearly throwing her down. She looks up with her scared doe eyes. Her mouth parts and I have this flash of pushing my cock against those lips, feeling her tongue work against me. But she will fail. I won’t put her in a position where she might feel like she failed me.
Instead, I command, “Turn over and spread your ass to receive me.”
I see the look of reluctance steal across her expressive face and I feel triumphant. The mask she would have worn has fallen away and she gives me the truth of her. But still she lays face down against the bed, legs spread wide and hands pushed into her ass. Pulling her soft cheeks apart and revealing the clean pink pucker of a just cleaned anus.
I unzip my pants and run the slick lube over my pulsing flesh. I kneel on the bed and push myself into the tightness of her. The sound of her whimper pulls a growl from my throat. I pull back and slam back into her. Feeling the resistance, feeling her heat.

I slam into her again and again. I just need to feel this connection to her. Just need her to know that I need her. Need her always.
I pull out of her with a soft slorp and pull her around to face me. She is smiling. Teeth just exposed in a soft expression. Like she knows. Like she knows that, had I the ability, I’d always be touching her.
“Put on your collar and write in your journal. Then join us in the living room,”  I order.
I walk into the bathroom to clean up. The steam still stains the large mirrors. Heat slowly escaping out the open door. I let out a long shuddering breathe. I’d meant to bring us back to zero. Back to service and sensuality but splitting my attention seems to make me feel inadequate. Forcing me to prove that I’m enough for both my girls. I raise my eyes to the fogged in mirror. The blurring softens the minute lines at my eyes and mouth. I let the wet hot air stream into my lungs. I need to talk to them about it.
But first, I soap up and wash up.

Stepping out, I see Tara wearing her pink collar with the hearts on it and writing in her journal. She melts my heart. As if it weren’t already melty. Leaning over, I plant a kiss on her forehead.

“I love you, my kitten.” I say.
She smiles and says, “I love you too, Pel.”

I force myself to walk into the kitchen. My Sara is standing with a pitcher full of Mojitos on the counter. More than enough for all three of us.
I walk over, slipping my hand around her waist and pulling her to me.
She leans back to me.
“Everything all right,” she asks.

“Just tired my lovely. I can’t seem to keep my hands off of Tara,” I reply.
“There’s a reason we chose her Pel. And a reason she’s worked out for so long. She’s just about perfect. And you know, I love her too.”
“I know, my dear. I just don’t want to short you,” I reply.
Sara turns and puts the pitcher in the refrigerator. “Hon, why don’t we take a nap? We can talk about it after we’re rested.”
I sigh. “Sounds great.” I take my loves soft hand in mine. “Let’s tell Tara together.”
Impishly, Sara smiles up at me.
“Let’s.”

Valentine’s day 17

The press of our bodies heats the air. Musk and sex fill the back seat. I bury my face into the crook of her neck, pressing the muscle of tongue against the flutter of her beating veins. We push up together and I pull down, as she crests down. Like a wave that moves her onto me over and over. Parted for less than a second, but starved for each other.

I hear a soft sound to my left and see Sara watching us, drinking us in, memorizing us. Like a movie she’ll play back later. I reach down and rub my thumb against hood, grazing clit in time to our thrusts. I feel Tara tighten like a fist around me each time I brush clit. I know she’s right on the verge. I slow down, watching pulse slow then quickly build our momentum again. I feel myself start to lose control. Any second I’ll be past the point of no return.

That won’t do.

I slow again but quicken my thumb and make sure the slower thrusts run over and over the rough gspot. I watch as Tara clenches over me, pulse against pulse as she goes boneless. I almost lost control.

The pains of having two lovers’ needs to take care of. I move Tara to the seat across from me and she sprawls languid in afterglow. I turn to Sara to see her sliding to her knees and bends face first in Tara’s still tender pussy. I watch as my wife runs her tongue in long slow circles. Little minx.

Punishment for not waking her up I suppose. Brat. Well, surprises all around then. But I will admit that watching my love cause our pet, our girl, to writhe and moan just destroys me. I could watch them for hours. Just because I know they enjoy it and enjoy me watching them. And they are mine. If I were any happier it would be illegal.

But, Sara knows that she should have asked permission first so, let the punishment fit the crime. I pour the lube from the warming tray down into Sara’s soft pink pucker. I hear the intake of surprise but she keeps to her slurping task. I work in the lube into her. Then pour more onto my cock. I’d normally have opened her up a bit with a plug first but she’s no stranger to my cock in anywhere I desire. I’m just normally more deliberate and orderly.

But today, I press in against her, pushing until I feel resistance then holding, then pushing deeper until I hear her softly whimpering and pushing back against me. I know that without the preliminary she has to be in pain even if she is also in pleasure. Gods, I love my little pain slut. Always give them what they need.

I pull out leaving only the head and slam back in, eliciting a scroam. Half scream half moan. And quickly pound into her. No thought to what else she may need. This is a punishment. I ram my body against her slapping into her as hard and fast as I can until, overwhelmed by her undulating the inner walls of her anus, effectively sucking my cock with her ass. Minx. I blow into her. I feel myself empty into her ass and I pull out with a soft pop. I look over at her and she is smiling, radiant in pain and pleasure.

“Tara, dear, please clean out Sara’s ass. She’s made a mess,” I order.

Tara has been watching for a minute while I worked over Sara.

Sara angles her muscular ass to Tara and winks at her. Brat.

I catch the wink in the tinted windows. Shaking my head, I say “Sara, clean your stink from my cock. You have made a mess.”

Knowing how much Sara hates humiliation, not a hard limit but she loathes it, she knows she took it too far. She bends her head to my sloppy cock dripping cum, lube and ass juices. She begins to lick me clean. Our eyes holding each other, she licks right up the center vein. I feel myself growing hard. I’m not made of stone.

Sometimes I wonder who’s really in charge.

Valentine’s day 6

There is a desire in me. To do away with the niceties and pleasant, to take and take, and take. To demand when I am spent and they are bruised, bloody and begging that they act in accordance to my will.

I’ve spilled myself down the throat of my pet. Into her sweet snatch. Wearing my marks. The bites, the scratches. Soon we’ll add cane stripes or whip lines. But for now, there are other entertainments.

“Tara. Lay on your back, spine along the horse bench.”

Tara pulls her mouth off my flaccid cock, a thin line of semen mixed drool stretching from it to her pouty lips. She looks me in the eyes and slurps the mixture into her greedy mouth. The soft expanse of throat bobbing as she swallows.

Her lithe legs lift her up, stalking and taunting me. She thinks she’s safe. I rush her. Picking her up and depositing her gently but firmly onto the dark leather. Pushing her face down into the bench.

“Taunting me has consequences, pet. ”

I push my fingers into her pussy, fear drenching the soft leather of the bench. Her breath comes fast and panting, my fingers open like a blossom, pushing and teasing against the soft pink.

“Sara, get me the 6 by 3 inch strap on.”

The soft tinkling of bells marks Sara’s passage. I scrape my fingers in, forming a fist inside Tara. My arm punching in and out as she whimpers, struggling not to cry out. Quivering and jerking with each shove.

Sara comes, her bells playing a melody of desire. She straps the 6 inch long, 3 inch wide latex cock around my waist.

One must be prepared, for the flesh is weak but the mind is willing.

I pull my fist out with a pop. Using the river of fragrant delight that coats my hand, I lube the cock. Tara looks back and seeing the wide dildo, whimpers. Her legs dangle off the horse, hands wrapped around the wood worn smooth by hands doing as she does now.

“Dear, please strap her down.”

Sara grabs the handful of precut leather straps out of a nearby drawer. The leather ties down Tara’s wrists. Only allowing her to hold the legs of the bench or dangle.

Her ankles are tied out. Held wide by the curvature of the bench.

I press the head of the rigid latex, wet with the Tara’s offering, between the soft steel of her ass. Pressing into her rose bud pucker. Her breathing gasping out. The pressure building and relaxing as she takes the thick latex cock into her. I pull out a bit and slam back inside her. So much more satisfying when, I feel her flesh around me, but soon.

She shrieks with her mouth closed, like my good little girl. I pound into her sweet ass, giving no quarter. She is crying, tears streaming down her face. Which only serves to quicken my own cock to wakefulness. I bury the dildo deep inside of her. Then remove the straps. I reverse them and strap the cock inside of her. Trapped until I allow removal. Her body shudders and quakes. Used like the beautiful slut she is, she rocks back and forth, grinding into the padded saw horse.

I leave her there where I can watch her.
I lift Sara to here feet and walk her to the sofa.

“Sara, you are to suck me down. For each orgasm you ruin, I remove a bell. Get to work.”

I want to ride my Sara but I’m spent for now.