It's been almost a year since we christened this little ... whatever it is. A year since Alex and I used Asuka while denying her any pleasure in return before we wore her out and then all fell asleep in a pile. We've found ourselves in couples and piles of various arrangements quite a few times since then, but there's nothing I like more than the three of us pressed together as tightly as possible.
Not like I expected him to be anything but OK with it when I brought up formalizing our ... whatever you wanna call it. "Thruple," is what he likes, ever the analyst and word monkey, but that sounds like a gameshow to me. I just think of us as Us, mostly because I know he won't argue with capital letters.
We got our tattoos a few weeks ago. We wanted them to be healed before the big reveal, but we knew she needed something different, something special, something that told her how vital she was to us, and to Us. A fancy dinner where we give her that something special was his idea. He hasn't been on many dates, so he likes to show us off, and we indulge him, because we like to be shown off.
Somehow he convinced me to dye my ash blonde hair a glossy auburn. I guess that's not fair. In one of those felt-like-changing-something moments, I did ask what color he'd like. He'd never make a request like that without being prompted. He wants us to be happy too much to worry about what makes him happy. It's cute, until you figure out he's like that because he's terrified. Letting him show us off helps with that.
Asuka is all oohs and ahhs about my new red hair and my white, ruffled, one-shoulder dress, complete with zebra stilettos, when she slides into his car. She's a sub, not a bullshitter, so she'd tell me if she didn't like something, like the shoes I bought that she said were only good for stepping on her neck, and only in private.
She looks delicious in a tiny, black, rose-print cheongsam with a teardrop keyhole and simple black pumps. Her bubblegum perfume fills my nose, as sweet as her. Alex is playing the dutiful chauffeur, so I take the opportunity to make out with our toy on the way to the restaurant. That's certainly why he stuck me in the backseat before we picked her up. He'd say he "positioned me to reap significant serendipitous benefits," but he knows if he did I'd complain he was showing off again. Without those shoulders his head would have crushed him by now.
Dinner is at a very nice steakhouse. Before we get out of the car, I swirl my tongue around her ear and tell her I want her to slut it up in the restaurant. She knows we won't loan her out; we're both far too possessive for that, and no one is good enough to play with our toy. So, she knows she's only putting on a show for the two of us, and she knows she'll be paid well for her time.
That payment starts with her first present. Once we're seated, I snatch her by the chin and press my lips firmly to hers. While she's distracted, he slips a tall collar made of spiraling, intertwining gold wire around her neck. A red lens in the center rests on her throat. She jumps in my grasp when the cool metal comes to rest against her skin. I release her from the kiss, and her hands leap to her neck to examine her prize briefly. I push her along the bench seating to lean against him, where I snap a quick picture with my phone so she can see how it looks on her. Something bubbles across her face, telling me she knows something else is coming. She knows we'll only let her percolate as long as it's fun for all of us, and she's a good girl, so she keeps her questions to herself.
Secluded in a shadowy booth, she and I tease him throughout the meal, feeding each other, licking fat and juice from each other's faces, and just blatantly fondling each other. Of course, I'm her dessert, eaten dutifully on her knees under the table. His dessert is licking me off her face in the backseat of his car while I drive us home.
Back at his house, I go directly to the fridge to get the bottle of pink bubbly we stuck in there earlier and pop the cork. He told me once that stuffy wine tasters say the smaller the pop, the better. Fuck that. What's the point if there's no pop? That's the sound of a celebration starting. I keep my back to Asuka as I slam down a small pill with a swallow from the bottle. "Time for present number two," I announce, still hiding my face. I place another pill into my mouth, but hold it on the end of my tongue.
She melts a little as I strut slowly across the room to stand over her, just like the sweet treat she is. I cup her chin in my palm and pull her face to mine to kiss her roughly and deposit the pill in her mouth. "Drink," I order, holding the bottle to her lips. She swallows a mouthful without question. Shocked eyes turn quickly to pleasantly surprised. She should know I know how she likes her drugs. I take a long, deep kiss from her, and she presses herself against me, offering her body and mind to her mistress.
After slipping out of our shoes, we make out for several long moments, welding our bodies together, swallowing each other's panting breaths, because he deserves a present too. I pull my lips loose from hers frequently for more sips from the bottle for both of us, and we trade fizzy strawberries and raspberries on the ends of our tongues. It's mostly empty before I realize I'm hot because I'm still dressed, I'm a little drunk, and the ecstasy is kicking in. Tomorrow might suck because of that pill, but sometimes love hurts. Besides, if we feel like garbage I'll just make Alex take care of us.
He picks a good moment to take the bottle from me and suck down the remnants in one long gulp. I see him almost toss the bottle to the side into a chair, like I would have, but he can't not do the math of pros and cons. So he pauses reality for a moment with a burst of willpower while he parks the empty bottle on the bar around his kitchen, freezing our bodies with anticipation, leaving only our eyes free to follow him. He returns to where he was, and when time resumes Asuka gets hoisted onto his shoulder and carried to the bedroom, giggling the whole way.
He's lifting her arms by her wrists when I get there. Time freezes again, just for the two of them, both wearing familiar expressions of powerful affection. She stays frozen while he strips her slowly, gently, a broad smile resting on her face. She likes it rough, but she likes it however we wanna give it to her more. Although, being honest, he's being careful because he's afraid of damaging her dress as much as he wants to be tender with her.
I find myself enjoying my spectator role, drinking in the sight of her body that I'll be using however I want very soon. The "X" and my drunkenness fuses our perfume, his cologne, and the fruity smell on my lips into something that makes my head hum as I leer at both of them. While his hands explore her slowly and he owns her mouth with his, I imagine myself in both of their places. Maybe it's vanity or narcissism, but if there were two of me, I'd be fine with me putting my hands all over my body, directing me to pleasure myself, and overall just fucking my brains out. Of course, they'd want to help, and there's something interesting in the idea of him telling me how to fuck me. Maybe I'd let her run the camera before the two of me demolish her for an encore.
He says he has a wild animal inside him, one that he's very careful to control. It's believable. I've seen him turn Asuka into a puddle with nothing but a sustained, intense look - a hawk who's spotted prey. I've also felt his paws on my ass and his jaws around my neck, and he is a little furry, but pleasantly so. Sometimes, if you listen closely, and you dangle a tasty piece of bait, you can hear it.
I feel like provoking the beast a little, so I cross the few steps between us and press myself against him. He looks up from their kiss, but before he can twist and capture her between us I tell him, "I feel like being lazy tonight." I stretch over her to press a pliant kiss to his lips. "You be in charge." His hand clamps onto my ass immediately and a growl rumbles through his throat as she shudders against me.
