We see with hearts wide open-3

Surrounded by hearts in mending
Gold seams in broken veins
Pain and pleasure in the taking
But gathered her gently
Woken him fiercely
And all of us joined
In laughter, in lust, in desire
And compromise
All truths spoken and laid bare
Emotions riding the air
Love seeking and binding
A hope everlasting

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 18-Sara

Spent and more than a little sore, I wake from my drowse. The car has stopped and through the windows our house sits invitingly.

We are tangled together in a sweaty sleepy pile. Pel has snuggled his face into my hair and is cupping my right breast. His breathe lifts his chest in long slow draughts. Craning my neck and peering behind, I see Tara is entwined with Pel. Holding him as close to her, skin to skin, as much as possible. Outside, Jen waits patiently in the afternoons soft heat.

I shift my weight to grab a moist towlette and feel Pel go rigid. He has long since become something of a manager but in his business it pays to be alert even in sleep. I wish sometimes he had stayed in the safe corporate job he took early in our relationship but, after that night, he just couldn’t keep up the facade.

“It looks like we are home,” Pel murmurs sleepily. He scoots over and softly kisses Tara until her eyes flutter open. For a split second you can see the panic in her eyes, then they close half lidded as she sinks into the kiss.

Pel. He’s been with us multiple times today but still his ardor is not dimmed. Instead, it seems to be stoked to full flame. A small smile grows on my face and I quickly clean up.

I slip back into my dress and am just replacing holster and jacket when I hear them break apart, gasping for air. I roll my eyes a bit but the truth is I’ve been on the receiving end of one of those kisses and they are worth a bit of gasping.

Looking over I see Pel zipping his pants and slipping on his shoes, his socks lost somewhere in the back of the limo. Tara has already wiggled back into her dress. And we’re ready to go. I’m fairly sure that the neighbors know something of what goes on but there is no need to throw it in their faces, as two naked women and a half dressed man would definitely do.

I rap on the window and Jen pulls open the door. Jen is the head of Pel’s security detail and his driver. I have no doubt she saw more than a little of what we were doing. Something that adds a exhibitionist spice to it all. But she is quite happy with her wife Elizabeth and, despite an open offer, has never been less than professional.

She offers a hand, which I’m happy to accept, and she helps me out. These heels make it hard to get out on my own. Meeting her eyes a little wickedly, I know that I’ve flashed her a bit. Her slight upturn smile tells me that. But if this kind of thing upsets her, she never would have lasted as Pel’s driver for long.

Valentine’s day 16

It’s been a day of surprises I think. I was so sure Tara would say Yes. I suppose I was lost in the romantic idea that a collar and a wedding on the same day would be a great story. I catch a glimpse of Tara on my left.
She’s curled up, held in my wife’s arms.

Sara sleeps with the sunlight streaming into the back seat of the car. The heat lulling her to drowsiness. Softly snoring in the way I find so cute. Though, in all honesty, I find most everything about her cute. Gods, I love her. I sometimes have this conflict because of that. She desires pain and in the throws of it she is glorious. And I enjoy her pleasure. But it’s so hard to start hurting her. To think up these scenes and walking the edge that she needs. I suppose I’m more D/s than S/M. But I’ll keep her happy. She really has me wrapped around her finger. Even if I’m the one laying down rules and behaviors. Punishment and play. She would never top from the bottom, but through our love she has mastered me. I can’t conceive of a situation where I’d will it otherwise.

I grab Tara’s leg and pull her towards me.
She starts awake in fear. Her eyes going wide. I place my finger to her lips. She stills.

“We should finish what you started in the Garden,” I whisper.

Her smile spreads lighting up a face which moments before was a mask of fear. She crawls over to me and unzips the soft cotton pants. Her slight rough calloused hand pulls me free. The feeling of her clutching my cock is delicious. I want to see what she will choose. I give no direction or order. Just revel in the warmth of her touch, eyes half lidded.

I feel her locks cascade down the length of me. A waterfall of individual strands moving over sensitive nerves. Her lips press down over the head of my cock. Lips just parted enough to provide pressure. She works her way down me. Savoring the softness of flesh over steel. Her teeth scrape against bulbous head, sending a tidal wave of shivers down my spine. But still, I am quiet.

I guide her mouth off of me. Hands brushing her cheek. My girl. Mine.

“Face me. And wear me.” I state.

She straddles me. Her dress riding up revealing the pale curve of her ass. Crisscrossed pale lines of scarring from previous canings stand out. Her lower lips suck me in as eagerly as her mouth did. Pressing over the hard/soft button of her pleasure.

I lift my eyes to hers, slowly drinking her in. The feeling of fabric and the heat of our joining blurring the lines of beginning and ending. I press my lips to hers. Softly at first. Just pressing in, smelling the wafting musk of heat and bodies. I fall on her like a beast. Pressing into her mouth, our tongues fighting to taste and press against each other. Holding us tightly together. Trying to merge as completely as possible. Needing her. This animal connection.

Valentine’s day 15

This day has not gone as I planned it. I thought that Tara would marry us. I still hope she will. I feel a bit of a depression spiral coming on. This is mitigated by Tara curling against me. The soft warmth of her pressing through her dress. The subtle scent of peach that is all her and nothing of perfume. We are still at the gathering and there is some guy presenting but I have not a thought for that.

I press my face into the soft curls. The silk strands brushing against my cheek. I press my lips, closed and firm, yielding and gentle against my girls neck. Like a tide, fierce possession rolls in, filling me. Tightening deep inside of me.

I feel Tara’s body shudder against mine. Her heart thumping so hard her entire body rocks. I run hands down her side tracing whorls on skin. I pull her close to me. Wishing only that we were alone. That we could slowly explore each other. Until nature wars with desire and more complex needs break away.

Tara loves me. She’s just overwhelmed. But I know now how to proceed. I just needed her. To know that we belong together. I reach for Sara and her hand finds mine. She scootches close. Like a circuit completing a connection we are whole.

I feel Sara’s nails run down my arm. Starting at the top of my spine, a shudder runs through me. Tara lays against me. Our bodies melding together. Not hearing the zip, I’m so lost, I feel her hand pull my too controlled cock, still flaccid out. She stuffs me into her warmth. I grow inside, filling. She just knew. Or just needed this deeper connection. We are finally found. Accepted. Needed.

I wish this moment to end. That we might begin something more… complex. I wish this moment forever. I am whole in the embrace of my love. And I’m home in a way I’ve never looked for but always felt slightly uncomfortable due to its lack.

Valentine’s day 12

The girls, they’re women but they are my girls. The girls walk ahead of me smiling and holding hands in the early February sunshine. Ahead of us is the small garden that our friends planted in late fall. The early spring blooms delicate and just waking to a early spring. The harsh cycle of snow and thaw all but unknown in this shady almost desert. The soft rays of sun caress us.

We walk through an archway of delicate looking peach blooms, more greenery than flowers but small buds are showing their first blush of growth.

The small garden has 3 tables with guests already seated. We are all lifestyle partners, but aside from a few collars, my wife included, it is more Sunday sundress than fetish.

The men are all in various spring suits, mostly white or tan. I stand out like a raven amongst doves. Dressed all in black with a black fedora. Death at the ball.

Peter, a friend and officiant of these proceedings approaches. Sara and Tara kiss me on a cheek each, bookends of my love, and stroll off to mingle and find our seats.

Peter says, his voice pitched low, “It’s all arranged. Does she know what we’re doing here?”

“She knows half of it, she’s already ours this just makes it more so. If the laws were different, I would take another course but needs must,” I reply.

“Well, I hope you know what you are doing. This could go awry very easily,” Peter said doubtfully.

“Pete, I know my girl. She’ll be happy and Sara knows. Sara came up with the contract and got one of her managing partners to make it legal. We all do what we can,” I say decisively.

“Well, if you are sure, let’s get you married. Again,” smiled Peter.

I walk to our seats, Sara on my left and Tara on my right. Normally they are seated opposite and I can see Tara is curious but not scared of the change. This was Sara’s idea. To show Tara her importance, that Today is her day. Leaning back in the comfortable chair, Sara hand held in my lap and Tara clutching my other in hers.

Truthfully I’m a bit nervous. I am almost certain that Tara will say yes but I’m not positive. There is always a bit of trepidation with these things and you can rarely tell how it will turn out. All you can do is hope.

Peter stands at ease at the front of our little gathering. He starts.

“Welcome everyone to our Valentine’s day event. We’ll be serving a complete high tea for which we thank Victoria and Kevin for their service to us today. It is through their hard work and dedication that our garden is as beautiful and immaculate as it is. A round of applause for Victoria and Kevin.”

We all clap and smile at Peter’s service submissives. They are in little waitstaff outfits and they are smiling with their heads bowed at the praise of their master and the approval of the gathering. Without these two, these events would need to be catered and less private. Victoria and Kevin are married to each other but are bound in Service to Peter. It works for them and watching how their dynamic worked these past few years is what gave me the courage to seek a third. Sara and I have always been polyamourous, but short term liasons have been…unfulfilling, if not disastrous. With Tara we just clicked.

Peter continues. “Today is a special day for three of our little group. Pel and Sara have been with us for a few years and we’ve all enjoyed their company. Some of us more than others,” Peter smiles.

“They’ve cut a bit of a swath through our ranks, engaging one or another in various fun and hijinks. But today they bring into their family a new love. Tara. Tara comes from outside the group, for which our long term partnerships are grateful.”

The group chuckles lightly.

“I kid, but seriously, the pull of a Dominant switch and a aggressive pain slut is almost too much for some of us to resist. But thankfully, that won’t be much of a problem, because adding Tara to their dynamic is going to leave them completely exhausted. Believe me, I know of which I speak.”

The group grins and laughs.

“Tara, please come up here,” Peter asks.

“Go ahead my dear.” I say, steel in my voice. An order, but she smiles and goes up to the front. Walking like a little girl. Carefree.

Peter looks at Tara and asks, “Tara, are you here of your own volition?”

Tara replies calmly, “I am.”

“Are you being coerced in any way?” Peter continues.

“No, I am not.”

“And last, but not least, Are you being abused emotionally, verbally, or physically?”

There are bruises forming on her arms from this mornings activities. But this is a question of intent. And of her feelings, regardless of the intent of the master. Just because the Dominant does not think something is abuse doesn’t mean it’s not.
The submissive decides for themselves what is too much. We use this ceremony to make sure that the submissive is not so cowed that they cannot choose for themselves. And it allows for Peter, the clinical psychologist, to try and get a read and make sure no one has been broken.

Tara replies, “I’m with Pel and Sara of my own free will and nothing we do is abuse.”

There is a ritual to this and she added the second part. I beam at her, smiling like a wild thing. Improvisation in the face of authority. I am so proud of the progress she is making.

Peter smiles and says, “Well, ok then. Pel come on up here.”

I get up and walk to the front. It’s no more than six steps but it feels like a mile. I have Tara’s collar in my left pants pocket and ring in the right. It’s like walking through lead until I see Tara looking at me. Her eyes glisten with unshed tears but her whole body is relaxed and almost smiling.

I let loose a breathe I didn’t realize I was holding, tension eases out with the last two steps.

Peter moves to the side, leaving Tara and I front and center.

“Tara,” I say, “you have been more of a blessing than either I or Sara could have imagined. You are not only our lover. You have also set our whole household in order. All the little things that seemed to have fallen by the wayside, you found and fixed. And we love you for that. But more than what you do, we value and love you for who you are. Every day is a new journey and a new challenge but every day you seem to make us laugh or comfort us on our bad days. We love you and want to make you ours. I present this collar. The collar of our possession of you.”

I place the white soft leather collar around her neck, snug but not tight. A small gold heart dangles from the little ring on the front.

“This collar marks you as our owned pet. None may touch you without your consent but now, none may touch you without our acquiesce either. Additionally, you are under our protection and a slight against you is a slight against us.”

Tara leans onto me and holds me close, burying her head against my neck.

Then she composes herself and gets ready to head back to her seat.

Normally, that’s the end of the proceedings. And Tara has seen one of these and been coached by Sara.

I let her take a step, then say “Wait, please.”

Tara turns back to me.

“I have one more thing to say. Tara, this collar makes you officially ours. But for us we want to take it a step further. Both Sara and I.” I sink to one knee.
I present her shocked visage with the antique platinum and 4ct. Flawless blue sapphire.

“Both Sara and I want to ask, will you marry us?”

Valentine’s day 10

It’s these moments when we are just people in love that are the most important to me. All of the sexual gymnastics doesn’t compare to the simple pleasure of hearing my girls talk over my choices for them. Of course, helping Tara to heal after the ordeals she endured is important. And getting Sara to stop apologizing has been a long road. I suppose it’s the kind of dominant I am. There are all kinds and flavors. I need to help my girls feel safe and give them a safe place to grow. And we’re all very sexually adventurous people so this lifestyle with its infinite possibilities works well. But enough.

Sara stalks into the living room and stands waiting for inspection. The clacking of heels against tile end, somehow leaving the space empty.

Tara walks, shyly to stand next to Sara. She holds her right arm behind her back with her left. And she is hunched. I’m not sure where she was taught to crunch down and be less of a target but seeing it does not make me happy.

“Tara,” I say, “Stand up straight. Arms at your sides.”

Tara flinches at the reminder. I always allow for one with her. Immediate punishment for disobedience is not productive.

Tara straightens up and holds herself more loosely, though her tension is evident.

I can’t tell what choices they’ve made.

“Arms out, legs spread, be ready for a pat down.”

Starting with Sara, I run my hands over her. Businesslike, making sure her weapons are in place. We have a rule that no one leaves the house unarmed.

Stopping in front of her, I lean over and growl in her ear, “No underwear? Interesting choice.”

Her slow wicked smile tells me exactly where her heads at.

Tara’s arm are trembling trying to hold them up while I thoroughly fondle…I mean inspect, my lovely wife. When Sara is leaning into me, trying to get more than my hands attention, I kiss her noise and pull away.

I look over Tara and see that there is really no good place for her blades. Her arms are trembling and she is sweating from holding her arms out for the last few minutes.
I circle behind her running my hands over her. Repeating the thorough search for underwear and weapons.

My hands up under her dress, I pull it up to reveal the softness of her. A matched set then. Nude all around. Her dress rises as I glide my hands up over her soft breasts. She shivers. From the draft? The position?
I plant soft kisses up her neck, her hair upswept and held in place by…clever.
I smile. She’s worked handled needles into her hair. Nice!

“You can put your arms down.”

I drop her dress down and step back. The peach fabric settles against her curves. Eating away at my control. The sensuality of the fabric pulled sliding over her by gravity.

Valentine’s day part 2

The thrust of our tongues stealing heat from each other. The feel of her fingers, skin and bone twined with mine. Our flesh meeting in the thrust and moan of the dawn’s cold light. Buried in her, the soft strength and velvet wet pulsing with the strength and need of our hearts. Eyes open, drinking each look, each glance, pulling us right to the edge. Each slow thrust, coursing with the need never sated though knowing of each inch seeps from our every pore. The push and pulse of orgasm, the sharp fall over the cliff, caught and cradled. The arms of my Morrigan holding me close.

I pull from her still erect, the painful need controlled by will and knowledge. I roll over, hand trailing from breast to pussy, she scootches to the edge of the bed. I stand. Naked in the cold room. Our Tara is waiting in first position. Legs folded behind her.

I twist my wrist and beckon with my hand. Pulling her forward. Her eyes take hold of mine. The soft flick of her tongue tasting Sara on me. Tara sucks me into her mouth. Greedy for attention. Each caress of her tongue, swirling around the hardness, threatens to pull my orgasm from me. Her eyes bore into me. Her need screaming from her. To be used, taken. To be debased.

An uncomfortable thought, but here in this moment, my own need wells up. To make her mine. As she desires. Humiliation. I let loose piss into her mouth. Her eyes never leave mine as she swallows it down. Slowly draining into my slave. There are tears in her eyes as she swallows it all. The release of that need spills my seed hot into her mouth. She sucks me down, milking my every last drop. Waking my hardness back up.

I hold her face and pull her off my dick. I push her down face first into the bed. No foreplay, I spread her ass and slam my wet cock into her hole. I hear her gasp and whimper. I slam in, filling her, taking what I want from her. Each thrust calling whimpers and moans. I grab her tits and crush them as I spill into her ass. I pull from her and flip her.

I point to my cock and say “Clean up your mess, little pig.”

Her tears stain her beautiful face and almost, I can’t do it. But for her…
She licks and cleans my cock. The smell of her own bowels making her gag. I press my hand to her head. Not allowing her to back her head away. After 30 seconds, I pull her off of me.

To Tara, “Wear your butt and pussy plugs. You don’t get to clean up until I’m satisfied. ”

I pull Sara up. I smile at her and say,
“Breakfast my dear?”