“The Eef and I still owe you your birthday present.” Special K is texting and trying to distract me from a particularly shitty week. I found out that there is just nothing I can do to save my old house; it’s going into foreclosure, and my soon-to-be-ex husband is more concerned about the religious holidays, than about the fact that the bank is tallying our debts. Special K knows all about everything in my life, and he still wants to be there. I’ve checked, and he doesn’t seem to be suffering from a stroke…
Special K and Eef are two people with whom I play. In an ideal world, I would collar K as my own, but I have trust issues right now, and I don’t feel stable enough with him. Eef is a good friend whom I care deeply for, but was never sexually attracted toward. They’d planned a night of “Pampering Dommy-Mommy.” (We can insert a bit of an eye-roll here, thanks.)
The day started off with K meeting me in town while I ran some errands. While I’m not normally a fan of PDA, when K and I get together, we have a hard time not kissing or even limiting those kisses to chaste little pecks. We grabbed an awful BBQ lunch, and just mostly spent the time chatting and walking.
“I need to pick up a new toy for tonight,” I told him. So we walked to the sex toy shop in town, and I purchased a lovely black prostate toy. We parted ways and I went home to pull mommy duties for the evening. Naturally, on the night when I really needed my oldest to hit the sack good and early, he was wired up until 10:30pm. I texted Eef:
“Maybe I shd cancel…?”
“Even if we spend one hour with you, it’s not time wasted!” she wrote back. “Get here when u can.” I got to K’s place at around 11:15pm. We booted up Guardians of the Galaxy, which I HIGHLY recommend if you haven’t yet seen it. It’s very hard to tie two people up and use them as tables for your sushi dinner all while trying to maintain a serious face, if you’re laughing your ass off at some dude singing into a swamp rat. My Domme-ly composure was lost. Still, I managed to eat sushi off of two willing, naked subs. It was lovely.
After dinner (because DURING dinner would have been unhygienic), I edged them both closer to orgasm, pulling back when they got too close… or just because frustrated moans are funny. Let me take a moment to say that edging can be a double edged sword with play partners who are not clients. My clients would never DARE touch me in a sexual way; there are boundaries, and they are respected. My play partners, however, are a different matter. Edge Special K enough, and when you take the cuffs off, he pounces on you like a rabid dog and will (consensually) rip your clothes off. Eef will creep up toward you, and rub against you like a cat wanting attention.
Her kisses were lovely and soft. His were more aggressive. I let them play with each other, and then told them both that I had to go. I was flat on the floor, just enjoying a happy glow from simply having an adult night out. K stretched himself out along my body, slowly lowering himself on top of me and pressing me into the wood floor. The metal on his cuffs scraped along next to me as he began kissing me. It was all lovely, but I really did have to get home. Kids, and all that…
And then his lips moved to my ear, nibbling and licking. He stopped, and said those three magical words that, apparently, leave me weak in the knees:
“Come to bed.”
Everything was in those three words. Sex with him. With Eef. A change in the dynamic for the three of us. The things he wanted to do to me. The things he wanted me to do to him.
“Come to bed.”
…………..so, I did.