Spars

30. Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down

Okay, lets take stock here. I'm at the lake, I just had food, a swim, and sex, though not in that order. Alexa and Jill are finishing off their lunch, perched on logs at the edge of the clearing. Looking around, I can see the rings and mountings for some pretty large scale rope activity. For the first time in years, I don't go into a cold sweat at the idea of being tied up. Alexa follows my eyes, and smiles. "One day I'll get you up there."

I smile back. "One day..."

Jill collects plates and stashes them in the empty icebox. She's thoughtful, and turns to me. "Zack," she begins, "We've pretty much given you the third degree, but you know next to nothing about us. You must have some questions."

"Well," I'm hesitant, but I actually

do

want to know a few things, and being more assertive is one of Jill's asks, so "What do you and Alexa

do

, I mean, for a living?"

"Ah. The hard questions first." Alexa snorts, but Jill carries on over her "In terms of nine to five, nothing. Alexa can tell her own story, but I was in software, ended up with a couple of patents in the security space, and managed to sell my small company to a larger one, the usual rags to riches fairy tale." Alexa was openly grinning now.

"Nowadays I curate our digital life, Alexa's and mine. At some point, I'd like to bring you in to that. You're beautiful Zack, and balance Alexa's color and

brooding menace

as the critics like to call it."

Did you hear that councillor?

Beautiful.

Because I'm all grown up now, I put that to one side

she thinks I'm beautiful

and picked out the verb from Jill's sentence. "Curate?"

"Well, it's pretentious to call it that, but it is the best word for it. A lot of the things we do, like the rope work on Thursday, and last night at the club, are ephemeral. There's a lot of interest in it, and if it's photographed well, there's a whole other life for it."

I liked the sound of that.

My first iPhone had closed the circle for me. Taking pictures with a camera was cool, but there was a gap between taking the picture and seeing the photo. Before digital cameras there's been an even longer gap, waiting for the film to be developed. Maybe it's a failing of my imagination, but digital cameras with their tiny screens don't let you see what you've captured. On an iPhone, you see the picture immediately.

"So the pictures from Thursday, with the wings..." "I'd like to publish them, but not without your permission."

"Can I see them?"

She smiled "Of course" She wiped her hands on a wet wipe, and gave one to me. Whilst I was wiping up she went over to her camera bag, and brought out a tablet. Alexa and I came and sat on either side of her, and she opened up her photo app.

"Oh wow" I'd barely noticed Alexa that night, so entranced was I by my wings and Jill's pearls and our kisses and couplings. But Alexa had seen everything, and the camera had captured my tremulous excitement and Jill's serenity. The lighting enhanced the scenes, focusing attention on the whiteness of Jill's skin, stark against the black rope and glistening pearls, and I was transformed, a grubby angel in red, my body arching over Jill's, the wings triumphant.

"These are amazing. I'd no idea..." Jill was watching me, enjoying my reaction. Alexa was looking at the pictures with some pride. "So what do you want to do with them?"

"Well, it's early days, but I think there's a whole series we can make from this, if you're okay with it." I was. It was the first time I'd really seen myself from the outside, and I was

proud

. That probably sounds odd, but I'd schooled myself to avoid attention mostly, and seeing myself as some angelic lover was transcendent.

"What else would you like to shoot?" Jill gave me a mock fierce look, and I smiled and paddled the air. "I mean, I can think of a few things, but you've obviously got something in mind." She did, and after teasing me a little more, she laid it out.

Not surprisingly, it involved rope. Alexa sprang into action, this time binding Jill to a large tree at the edge of the clearing. The tree pretty much stood alone, easily four feet in circumference, it's pale bark contrasting with Alexa's red rope. She tied the tree first, creating an intricate arched pattern that framed and contained Jill.

Jill was dressed in black leather trousers and gloves, combined with a sheer white silk blouse. It was high-necked but diaphanous, her nipples showing clearly through the fabric, pink and erect. Her legs and waist were bound to the tree, red vines criss-crossing them to imprison her like some caged dryad. Her torso was free, but her hands were bound together high above her, allowing her to lean away from the trunk, arms forcibly raised in frustrated appeal. It was effortlessly erotic, immediately seizing all attention. Even the sounds of the water and the wind in the trees seemed hushed.

Alexa moved in with the camera, directing Jill to lean this way and that. To my shock, she cut slashes into the fabric of the blouse, pale flesh blinking out through them, violently exposed. Putting the camera to one side, she added more red rope to the tree, lines leading from the knots that held Jill captive, this time ending in small loops near Jill's waist. Satisfied, she looked round at me. Jill mirrored the look, and suggested "Binder again?"

Alexa nodded and headed over to the duffel Jill had produced her blouse and pants from. I'd needed no prompting, and had already stripped down.

When Alexa produced the inevitable boyshorts, this time in black, and a matching binder, I stepped into them and stood passively while Alexa adjusted the binder around my chest.

Refinements were produced, glitter for hair, and dark shadow make up for my eyes. I was once again androgynous, but this time earthbound and dark. The next part seemed to require some internal debate for Alexa.

"Zack," she asked. I held up my hand. "Wrists, right?"

"Yes, but it's not restraint, it just looks like it." She demonstrated, putting her hands into the loops at Jill's waist, then twisting them, making it look as though she was tied, then reversed the twist, immediately freeing her hands.

I was touched by her consideration, and leaned in to kiss her. She was all business though, barely acknowledging the kiss, instead setting the ropes, me kneeling at Jill's feet, then adjusting my body so that I was sprawled there, wrists tied. More photos were taken, and then the last surprise was brought out. Paint.

Blood red, in a squeezy bottle, Alexa reached in through the rents in Jill's blouse and applied it liberally. It dropped onto my face and torso, and the tableau took on an almost religious tone, like some grim but gaudy page from the Book of Martyrs. Alexa got busy with her camera, teasing Jill and I into different shapes, directing our expressions, our sightlines, everything. I'm not sure what iconography was being recreated, maybe we were building our own, but even from within the picture, I could feel it's power.

31. Cleaning Up

Even though it was still early afternoon, there was a stiff breeze coming off the lake that cooled things right down. By mutual agreement we started to pack up the ropes. It was easy for me, with one bound I was free, and Jill's arms were relatively easy to unbind. Her legs however were going to be a tougher proposition, so Alexa got to work.

I grabbed the wet wipes, and helped Jill out of the stained and torn blouse. She still looked amazing, as poised as ever, pale naked skin against pale bark, red ropes restraining black leather pants. I moved in with a wipe, and Jill grinned at me and lifted her breasts, inviting the contact. She took a wipe from me and cleared my face, splattered with the gore from Alexa's paint brushes.

"You look good in binders, first red, and now black. You're quite muscular and

definitely

male, but there's an androgyny to you when you bind your chest."

"I like the feel of it, I must say. And it's something new. I've only done it with you and Alexa, so it's nice to have something new."

This earned me a smile.

"We'll have to establish traditions. Me, I like being kissed whilst being untied."

I'm not stupid.

Loading the boat took twice as long as unpacking it had. I think it's some universal law, but eventually we reembarked and set off back to the shore. The wind had made it seem like it was later than it was. More humping was involved in getting things out of the boat, but you know what, I'm pretty much sure you can work out what happened anyway.

More interesting was the cabin. It had been kind of a blur in the morning. In my defence, it had been still early, I'd been awake for some time, and there was a boat. Anyway.

The cabin was quite simple, using what Jill described as an A frame construction. That means it had a ridge line roof that fell on two sides, like a center hair parting. From the front it was practically triangular, which meant that the ceiling was the height of the building, there was a sleeping platform at the back, and bathrooms and bedrooms clustered on either side. The front wall was glass, giving a panoramic view of the lake, trees and the previously mentioned mountain.

The kitchen was integral to the great room which had a central fire pit, a chimney rising up to meet the ceiling. Out front was a deck with a barbecue and rustic seating, all obviously well loved and much used. The whole place looked like it should have a Labrador Retriever bouncing around, and probably a bunch of kids too.

Of course, it didn't escape my notice that there were beams everywhere in the cabin, but you know what, I was getting over that. It turns out it was more being roped and beaten that was my trigger, not the rope itself. Who knew.

Another detail that was pretty cool was the master bathroom's double-size shower. We all climbed in there, and I have to say that a three way in the shower has moved way up my list of favorite things to do.

Jill didn't want to get her hair wet, so got to be the maypole around which Alexa and I twisted. The paint was water soluble, so we were clean pretty quickly. Six hands are pretty useful too, and there was a lot of, ahem, person-handling happening. I don't know about you, but this is one of the great things about moving past the early stages of being physical.

When they have started to learn the things you like, you get to direct and reinforce their moves. So I got to lean into Alexa's groin as she molded it against my butt, guiding her hands fondling my cock until Jill pulled away my hand and pressed it to her pudenda, resuming my lesson in how to please her. Nobody came, but we all had a good time being brought to the edge, glowing with that certain arousal that promises a good night.

Reluctantly emerging from the shower, we debated briefly about dinner options , deciding to head into the local town to pick up the makings, and cook them back at the lake house.

Road trip time. We were all back in the pickup, still horny from the shower, me the meat in the sandwich, with arms around both Jill and Alexa's shoulders. They leaned forward and shared a look.

"What?" I asked, but realized pretty quickly what the plan was when Jill pulled my belt loose and undid my jeans, button by button, whilst looking into my eyes, her face inches from mine.

I'd almost forgotten her quiet power, what with the rope on the island and our play in the shower. But I almost didn't need to hear Jill say quietly "Be still." I was already passive, leaning back, open to her invasion and possession. She released my cock, and lifted my balls clear of my underwear, the whole phallus exposed. Alexa's free hand snaked down my shaft, squeezing and releasing in a rough rhythm that was almost painful, but in that

please don't stop

way.

Then both of them had their hands on my cock, and Jill leaned in the extra inch and kissed me. Her tongue invaded my mouth and I leaned my head back, opening up totally to her. She felt the surrender and made that grunt of ownership that I was learning to love. Both Alexa and Jill's hands moved smoothly up and down my cock, and when that rhythm was added to the arousal I still felt from our play in the shower, it seemed only seconds later that I moaned into Jill's mouth, climaxing and spasming with pleasure.

In the same way that you know that getting naked was the girl's intention when the panties match the bra, I figured my orgasm had been on the route plan when Jill produced yet more wet wipes from her bag, and used them to clean me down. She was still kissing me, but gently now, and nuzzling and nibbling at my ear. There's a floating sensation after orgasm, you hang limp in the ocean, feeling the rise and fall of the waves, passive but fulfilled. I deliberately leaned in and kissed Alexa's cheek and whispered "Thank you". I turned to Jill and repeated the action and words. Alexa squeezed my thigh, and Jill murmured "You are welcome."

So that was how I arrived in Angel Falls. Arms around the two most important people in my life, with my cock hanging out. It's the only way to travel.

32. Teeny Tiny Town

Angel Falls was a blink or you'll miss it kind of place. A general store, a family run supermarket, and a restaurant and bar that looked to have been in situ since the 1920s. Cars were sparse, and our blue pickup fitted in like a native. As we were mostly in jeans and plaid shirts with Jill even having a cowboy hat on, so did we. Parking was lined up along the only street, we chose a slot outside the supermarket and nosed in.

"Groceries or Coffee?" Jill spoke, but she was looking at me. I'm never indecisive about important stuff.

"Coffee."

"Coffee it is. You might want to buckle up cowboy. Angel Falls is pretty laid back, but you don't want to scare the horses." Ah. Oops.

Despite Alexa's help, I managed to wrangle the mustang back into its corral.

Okay, I'm going to stop here. City boy in the country telling horse jokes is just sad and insecure. I'll spare you any more. But seriously, fish out of water here. Coffee was more important than oxygen at that moment.

Coffee apparently meant the restaurant and bar. We headed over (note, we did

not

mosey), and stood for a moment in the doorway, waiting for our eyesight to adjust.

The Angel Falls Inn was mostly a diner, but it opened out at the back to make room for a dance floor, high stools and tables, pool tables, darts alleys, all the accoutrements of a classy evening. Me I was reserving judgement till I tasted the coffee.

Which was standout. There was a reasonable looking espresso machine, but the acid (literally) test of coffee is how it comes filtered from a carafe. This was complex and nuanced, a blend of, I guessed, Columbian and Ethiopian beans, roasted within the past month and ground no more than an hour before the coffee was brewed. Hey. It's what I do.

Jill watched me carefully, a small smile on her face. I grinned at her. "You can set me up like this any time. This is really good."

"Good to know your guest has good taste, boss." Jill laughed.

"Zack, this is Spiros. He's the manager and coffee guru around here."

I toasted Spiros with my cup, looked over at Jill and mouthed "Boss?"

"Well, Backer. Partner. Investor?"

Spiros was insistant. "Boss."

Jill shrugged, and looked at me. "It's tough for places like this. Spiros runs a tight ship, but tourism's been down for the past couple of years. I was lucky enough to be able to help out."

Spiros was, unsurprisingly olive skinned and dark haired. He had a massive moustache, giving him a walrus look, compounded by his black eyes.

As they say, coffee is a universal language, so I stood to greet him properly. Jill made the introductions, adding "Zack's a barista from the city. And a good friend."

We got to chat about coffee for a while. It's a pretty narrow interest, but at least it's something that makes the world a better place.

Spiros was out of Europe, which makes a nice change from all the Kiwis and Australians that seem to populate the coffee industry.

I'll skip past the details, I'm sure you don't want to get into the nuances of Maillard reactions.

Anyway, nice guy, and we had a relaxing twenty minutes or so, before Jill dragged us away to pick out dinner.

Walking across the road to the supermarket, I checked in with Jill about the ownership of other businesses in town.

Apparently it was just the Angel Falls Inn she was the boss of. Alexa looked like she had a story to tell, but stayed characteristically quiet.

The supermarket was a family place, offering good mix of staples and deli stuff, and the meat section looked mighty fine.

Given we were looking to home cook, my mind was quickly made up by the porterhouse steaks under glass. Jill demurred, not being so into red meat, but there was sockeye salmon that met her requirements. Coleslaw and (don't tell anyone) prebaked potatoes made dinner an easy to assemble job.

Alexa wanted a steak too. It's ridiculous how happy that makes me, but it is what it is.

It was tempting to head back into the Inn and segue from coffee to beer, but in the end we decided to head back to the lake.

When we got there, I was glad we had. The sun was setting over the water, and the sound of steaks (and salmon) searing on the grill, the call of what I was reliably informed was a Western Meadowlark (you've probably never heard of it), and the sweet poetry of bottle caps being removed from some fine local beer put me as close to heaven as earth allows.

It was beautiful beer too. 7 Virtues by name, malty and presumptuous by nature. Beer and barbecues occupy a beloved space in the world.

We ate, drank, and sprawled like puppies, watching the universe cavort overhead for our inattentive pleasure.

Definitely the chief compensation of being out of town is the multiplicity and intensity of the stars above, but I was easily more engaged in touching and kissing and being touched and kissed by Alexa and Jill.

Alexa had been quiet since the rope work on the island, but she was intense here, pressed against my back, soft breasts close against my spine.

There was an agenda, so I turned to kiss her, and simply stated:

"Ask."

33. Being The Girl

Alexa was uncharacteristically coy. She had me both aroused and curious by now, so I turned to Jill. "What am I missing here?" Jill was amused, and for a moment I thought she was going to toss the ball back to Alexa, but she laughed and said "Alexa wants to fuck you, but she doesn't want to be Mrs West." Ah. Her again.

I turned around and faced Alexa, who didn't really want to meet my eyes. "Alexa, you could never be Mrs West for me. She's out of my life, I'm over it." I managed to catch her eye, finally.

"Mrs West did a lot of things to me and for me. I didn't really understand about consent back then, but I do now. I would love it if you fucked me."

Ah, these fireside chats. We've all been there, right? Alexa was quietly happy, pulling me in for a kiss. To be honest, I'd been expecting the topic to come up, ever since Alexa had offered to fuck Jill in my place. She's such a dominant personality, her body language and strength, the certainty in her direction when roping Jill, frankly I'd have been surprised if she hadn't been into using strapons.

I'd better drop the other shoe too. Being fucked is pretty much my kryptonite. When I'd brought the subject of anal sex up with Mrs West, I'd expected to be the one doing the penetration, but, as you know, it didn't play out that way. It had taken a while, but I'd learned to relax and enjoy being straponed, and latterly it had become one of my favorite things. And if you'd seen Mrs West, in full basque, suspenders and duster, striding towards you with strapon proud and angry, you'd maybe see my point of view.