"I never stopped." Chris held his gaze, then turned it to Sam, catching her in midyawn. His eyes twinkled. "But we might want to give our hardworking girl a little sleep first."
***
In the morning, Chris joined her in the shower first thing, taking her up against the wall and leaving her blood humming. She started her day almost maniacally happy. She even volunteered to take care of the brunch dishes, despite it being Geoff's day for the chore. While Geoff took his postmeal shower, she scraped egg off the plates at the sink and sang a favorite song in fits and starts while doing a little hip-shaking standing-in-place dance over the suds.
Chris had gone out to the work shed to fix a bent tool. The way he was hammering it against a stump, she imagined him as a blacksmith hundreds of years ago. Maybe he made swords for knights and shoes for horses. His large hands would handle the animal gently as he lifted one of the horse's legs and nailed the shoe onto the hoof to protect it.
In the current-day real world, Chris finished working the dents out of what looked like some kind of hoe. Then he retrieved the rake to clean up leaves under the Japanese cherry. Chris didn't care anything for fashion, but he liked his T-shirts. Today's was a colorful print advertising an alehouse in Germany somewhere. The graphic looked like a Viking taking a hefty swallow from a giant mug of beer. The Viking had his arm slung around a tipsy dragon. Chris did most of his shopping for unusual T-shirts at the thrift stores, so she expected he'd picked it up from one of them.
Since the day was warming up, it wasn't long before he stripped off the shirt, tossing it over a branch and continuing to work in a pair of old jeans with a couple of frayed holes and worn soft to crease in the right places. It was one of the few pairs he had for yardwork, since he usually preferred camos or painter's pants for that. He was so beautiful, she couldn't think of a better view as she washed dishes.
Geoff's arm slid around her waist, his body pressing against her. "What are you doing?"
"Cleaning up after two pigs." She purred as he teased her neck with his lips. It turned her legs to spaghetti, not that they weren't close to that already, thanks to the activities of the past twelve hours.
"Pigs, hmm?" He snorted against her ear, an oink, oink sound that had her giggling. Pressing her forward with the shift of his body, he reached both arms around her to push open the window, letting the breeze touch her face before wrapping one arm across her, forearm pressed above her breasts. He kept his lips close to her ear, so his voice could stay a silky murmur.
"Do you remember that fantasy Madison talked about the first time we went to Naughty Bits? About Chris being the yard boy who couldn't stop looking at you in an inappropriate way?"
Everything in her started pulsing, the sore tissues between her legs throbbing and her breasts feeling fuller, tighter under his touch.
"Yes."
He tugged the elastic scoop neck of her peasant-style dress down below her breasts, framing them in both hands.
"You didn't wear a bra on purpose," he said mildly.
"You told me not to wear any underwear--" She swallowed a gasp as he pinched her nipples. "Yes sir. I didn't wear one on purpose."
"Because you wanted the yard boy to look at you. You wanted him to know there was nothing under here but you. You knew he wouldn't be able to keep his eyes off your breasts, the way they quiver when you move, how your nipples look."
"Yes . . ."
"Despite your Master telling you that you weren't permitted to tease the help." He growled the accusation.
Even with that curl of sensual anxiety that went along with shifting into a submissive mind-set, Sam couldn't prevent a tiny smile. She'd always been pretty sure she'd like role-playing. She hadn't been sure how well the practical Geoff would do with initiating it, though. Apparently he was diving in headfirst with no trouble.
"Put your head back on my shoulder. Keep your hands in the dishwater, holding the dish you're cleaning."
When she did that, Geoff whistled between his teeth, a short blast that caught Chris's attention, pulling him out of wherever his mind had been. There was no screen on the window, so it took only a few steps for him to determine what Geoff was doing. Geoff forced her chin up so she was staring into his eyes, unable to see Chris's reaction as he drew closer, his shoes crunching across the ground.
"You like how he looks at you when he knows he has to keep his dick on a leash. You want to make him strain against that leash because you're a sweet little tease, aren't you?" He bit her ear.
"Yes, Master," she breathed. She could sense Chris on the other side of the window, listening.
"So here we are," Geoff said, his voice deceptively mild again. "I've told you not to tease the yard boy, and yet I find you wearing this thin, short dress with nothing under it, pretending to wash dishes while you stare at him, all shirtless and sweaty. I think you need a reminder about proper behavior."
Releasing her chin, he captured her breasts in his hands again. She lowered her chin and saw Chris had his gaze trained on her breasts, watching Geoff stroke the curves. Those long fingers plucked at her nipples and she gasped again, her hips jerking against Geoff's body. She couldn't seem to stop licking her lips, her eyes devouring Chris's bare chest, expanding from the rise and fall of his breath. The beauty of that motion drew her gaze to the waistband of his jeans as Chris's stomach contracted and he shifted to one hip.
"Yeah, he's like you. Built head to toe to be fucked." As Chris's gaze flickered at that, a spark of answering fire, Geoff set his teeth against her neck once more. "Your nipples are all hard from watching him. I bet your cunt is wet, too, isn't it, bad girl?"
As he gave her ass a sharp slap, Sam jumped and Chris's eyes darkened. "I can't help it, Master," she managed. "He's so very . . . handsome."
"Uh-huh. What's so handsome about him?" Geoff pushed the dress past her hips and took it to the floor, leaving her naked. Chris's attention slid down to see as far as he could see before the rest of her body disappeared below the sink level.
"He has all those muscles . . . all over. And . . . oh . . ." The one-syllable word multiplied into several as Geoff tweaked her nipples harder. She pushed her hips against his cock, hard and insistent against her bare ass. She could feel the weight of it through his jeans. "When he bends over, his pants tighten over his backside, and I can't seem to stop wanting . . ." She couldn't stop wanting, period, and she really couldn't think. The avid look in Chris's eyes, as if he couldn't wait to do everything Geoff was doing to her, had her making a needy whimper.
"Why aren't you washing the dishes?" Geoff said coldly. "I didn't say you could stop doing that."
"Yes sir." Groping for the washcloth, she tried to wash the egg off a plate in the soapy water as Geoff's hands moved behind her, exploring her buttocks.
"Spread your legs, Samantha Beth. You always keep your legs open for us, telling us you're ready whenever we want you."
"Yes sir. Um . . ."
She really didn't want reality to intrude on this, but Flo's earlier warnings came to mind. "Nothing pisses us off like a sub enduring the wrong kind of pain or, worse, risking harm because they're afraid speaking up or using a safe word will make us end the session altogether . . ."
At the time, Sam had fully agreed with the sensibility of it, but in the heat of the moment, she wasn't as sure. Though it was role-playing, there was something about Geoff in this mode that brought to life the mirror image in her that wasn't about playing at all, for either of them. She wanted to embrace it as reality. The consequences she had to face afterward were distant and unimportant.
Chris made a quiet noise that had Geoff's head lifting. Geoff moved his hand back up her body to fondle her breasts. Now he caressed them instead of tweaking her nipples so forcefully, which destroyed her focus even more. She'd be hard-pressed to form coherent sentences, but her Master was demanding them.
"You need to say something to me, Samantha Beth?"
"No sir. I . . ." She closed her eyes. "I'm kind of sor
e. But I want you inside me. I don't want you not to do it because you think I can't handle it . . ."
"You're worried I might be too demanding," Geoff said smoothly. "And it would hurt, because you're sore. Your body has been overused by a couple of beasts."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--"
Geoff slid his hand around her throat and squeezed, silencing her. "What's a Master's first responsibility, Sam? Do you know it? Every sub should."
She wet her lips. Chris's eyes pierced her to the soul. Geoff's grip on her throat kept her in a dark, dreamlike well.
"To take care of his submissive," she whispered. "To protect her."
"That's right. But since we're not as smart as we like to think we are, we need your help to do that. You have to tell us when we might be about to hurt you in the wrong way."
"There's a right way to hurt me?" Her heart was so full of them both she needed to tease so she didn't cry instead. The tears would be the right kind of tears, but they might not understand that.
"You bet your sweet ass. You'll know it when I use my belt on it later today for forgetting the first rule. Then Chris will take a turn with it. He says that kind of punishment isn't his thing, but I think he might be expanding his horizons, don't you? Especially when he sees how crazy it makes you." Geoff bit her ear and she quivered under his hold. "You'll get some domestic discipline from both of us to remember you're supposed to help us protect you. Always. Got it?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now . . . where were we? So you like looking at our yard boy, at his fine ass and all his muscles. I'll bet when you're looking at him, he's been looking back at you, and he's gotten a really uncomfortable hard-on, because he's a big guy all over, isn't he? Nice big dick to go with the body. He rakes the yard, suffering that hard-on in his pants, wondering when I'll be off at work and he can make an excuse to come in the house. Maybe to get a glass of water. Maybe to talk you into letting him do this."
Geoff squeezed her breasts again and she moaned. "Or maybe he won't ask. If you tease him enough, he'll decide to take instead of being polite. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
She nodded before the flaming heat of Chris's unwavering gaze. His lips tightened, his corded throat rippling as he swallowed. Her fingers curled in the washcloth.
"Before you play, you have to finish your chores," Geoff reminded her. His voice was back to that growl against her skin. She wanted his teeth there. As if he read her mind, he bit, making her cry out softly as he increased the grip, letting her feel the sharpness of his canines before he lifted his head again. "You can't come until every dish is in the drainer, scrubbed clean," he said sternly. "Not a bit of food on them. So you keep working on that while I taste your pussy."
She wondered if it was possible for her brain to melt like candle wax from too much sexual stimulation. Softened candle wax felt warm and velvety under the fingertips, coating the skin, hardening on it . . . Her brain was rolling in sensory stimulation, no interest in connecting the dots of her thoughts.
"Wash the dishes, Samantha Beth. I won't tell you again."
He smacked her ass--a blow powerful enough to make her yelp--and she forced her hands into motion. Meanwhile, Geoff dropped to a knee behind her, hands sliding along her bare legs, back up to grip her ass with enough pressure to tip her forward. "Bend over, your elbows on the edge of the sink, but keep your head up and your eyes on your yard boy. Don't you look away from his face. He's going to be getting a lot harder for you, starting right now."
The position put the tips of her breasts almost into the soap suds. It also lifted her hips, that and her spread legs making it easier for Geoff to carry out his next step toward fragmenting her mind. Sam clutched the plate she'd been cleaning as Geoff's tongue and lips found her pussy. He started with gentle licks, a balm on her sore tissues that helped them swell and moisten, bringing them back to aroused ripeness without discomfort. As he swirled his tongue in a slow, artful track, she barely managed to hang on to the plate and her washcloth.
Chris was less than two feet away, him outside, her inside. It was as if he was the yard boy in truth, gazing at her with hot eyes through a window as her Master went down on her, knowing he was watching, reinforcing for another male whose she was in this primal way. Knowing the truth of it beyond the role-playing, she trembled at the look in Chris's eyes as Geoff worked her up for him, for both of them.
Washing the dishes required brief looks down to transfer a rinsed dish from the washing side of the double sink to the dish drainer side. She struggled through an erratic rhythm of looking up, looking down, while Geoff's mouth stayed busy between her legs. He slid his fingers into her pussy to collect her slick wetness and worked his digits into her rectum, adding another level of torture that wrested a cry from her lips. Chris's hand landed on the windowsill, his knuckles white as he gripped it. It was too much, maybe for both of them. Oh God . . . She had five dishes left to go.
"Geoff . . . Master, I'm too close."
"Yeah, you are." He stood and drew her up against him, his arms coming around to flank her as he washed his hands. Then he clasped hers, guiding and steadying them through washing the last items, water and juice glasses. He took each from her shaking fingers to rinse and place it in the drainer, protecting them from breakage and her from injuring herself. His chest was warm against her bare back, his jeans a rougher friction against her sensitive buttocks. The dress was still at her ankles, him standing clothed behind her and Chris in front as she did the domestic task naked. She was drowning in all of it without the desire for rescue, as long as the two of them were with her.
As Geoff put the last dish away, she moistened her lips. "Master, may I make a request?" Her voice was shaking.
"You may." He pushed her hair to the side and kissed her throat.
"I know I'm sore, but I really, really want you inside me. Can I come for you that way?"
"Not this time, baby. We've used you hard, and it's time to give your sweet pussy a break. Don't want to break our toy just when we've first started to play with it."
She understood his logic, but still . . . He dropped his hand, squeezing her buttock. "No arguing."
She hadn't even opened her mouth, but he'd known she was about to do so. A quirk of Chris's firm mouth told her he'd known it also. Sometimes the two of them knew her a little too well. She'd have to figure out a way to counter that. Some other time.
Geoff stepped back. "Back down on your elbows and ass lifted into the air. Like before."
She complied, trembling, and he dropped to one knee again and parted her buttocks. His thumbs played on her rim and he put his lips gently on her ass, a tender tease. "It's time for you to come for your yard boy, Samantha Beth."
As Geoff dipped his head and went to work on her cunt again, she looked up and was captured by Chris's expression. When Geoff's head pushed between her legs, widening them further so he could take her clit in his mouth and start sucking on it, playing his tongue over it and her labia, she shattered.
The climax shot her up and took her hard, cries tearing from her throat. It was one heavy wave followed by another, and another. She'd always heard that women were capable of plenty of orgasms, with very little recuperation time needed, but she'd never had lovers with the skill to make that happen. Discovering it now, this way, had been worth the wait.
She didn't take her eyes off Chris, just as Geoff had ordered. As she became wilder, her body undulating so Geoff gripped her hips, holding her fast, Chris became more still, a potent, explosive energy. His lips moved, a husky murmur. She couldn't make out the words, but it wasn't necessary. She knew he was encouraging her to come even harder and longer, and she obeyed him as instinctively as she did Geoff, going as long, far and hard as she could, knowing if her heart gave out, they'd be there to catch her.
Her body stopped flying over those waves at last, coming to rest in more gentle swells. Geoff helped take her through those last rises and falls, the incredible movements of his tongue and lips
easing into light, lingering kisses over her quivering flesh, mixed with the occasional tease of his tongue, collecting her climax, consuming her.
Chris was so absorbed by her response, it was as if he'd been locked into it and never wanted the clock to start again. Or maybe that was her thought.
Geoff straightened behind her, his arm snaking around her waist. Lifting her off her feet, he tipped her forward over the sink so Chris could lean through the window and slide his lips over hers. Her mouth trembled beneath his. Caressing her face, he stared at her as he drew back. "You're so beautiful, Sam." His touch was urgent, tense. She felt the same thrum of need in Geoff's hold on her waist.
"I can take care of both of you," she said. "With my mouth. Please."
She wanted to kneel on the cool kitchen floor and take Geoff's cock in her mouth. He'd push deep into her throat as Chris stood next to her, stroking his own erection while watching her service Geoff. She'd slide off Geoff and put her mouth on Chris, bringing him so close, yet Geoff's hand would wind into her hair, tugging her away and putting her back to work on him again. Back and forth, until eventually each one would come in her mouth. In the last moment, Chris might pull free and let his seed spill over her breasts. Both men would watch as she rubbed that cream into them . . .
This had to be some weird reaction to suppressing her fantasies for so long, because she should be easing back now, slowing down. Instead, she wanted to push herself so far beyond the burn she wouldn't know the difference between pleasure and pain. It would be all about being with them. They wouldn't be able to resist her, not like this.
Geoff tilted her head up to look at him. She knew he was weighing her offer, making a decision. So she kept quiet, but when his lips pursed and she knew he was going to let things play out, a frenzied sense of victory surged through her. His attention sharpened, as if he was seeing something else in her expression, something that injected uneasiness into her crazy swirl of need. She had to do this for them, with them. He might think something was off, but she was fine. It was all good. He had to let her do this. She would lose her mind if he didn't. She'd just had a bone-dissolving climax, but she was so revved up she had to do something. Now.