Title: Creampuff Lovin'
Author: ShatterStorm Productions
Feedback address: firstname.lastname@example.org
Date in Calendar: 21 June 2007
Fandom: Stargate SG1/The Division crossover within the Light, Water, Muses alternate universe
Date Written: Original version written in November 2005, this version written 17-20 June 2007
Word Count: 6571
Summary: Dace makes good on a promise to Sam and Art.
Advertisement: Part of the FSAC:DD07
Note: This was a trip to write from the very first inklings we had of writing it, way back in 2005. This was actually part of the infamous "Chapter the Third" in the sixth book of LWM, "Rainbows." Unfortunately, it had to be pulled from that story, because Sam had only had Elana two weeks prior to the events in this particular story, and there's no way she was having sex that soon. Joan and Janet would have killed her, even if she was interested...
We hemmed and hawed about what to do regarding this error. We didn't want to lose all of the great smut that AJ had written during NaNoWriMo'05. So we sat on it all this time; AJ fully admits she played "out of sight, out of mind" games with this bit. And then, we finally worked out the idea of pushing the events of this scene back a bit, letting Sam recover from her pregnancy and delivery before siccing Dace on the "unsuspecting" Creampuff.
Jenn worked her ass off the past few days: changing the tenses, changing POVs, and editing/expanding the info in the original scene to turn into this fucking hawt little smutfest... Booya!
Beta: Shatterpath & Stormwriter co-beta'd each other's work.
by ShatterStorm Productions
++ Dace ++
Thanksgiving is early for our combined large clans. Hell, my belly still aches from the amazing feast last night. Food, family and contentment makes for a happy and relaxed household. Both Casa Fraiser and the rental next door are quiet, even the kids sleeping or being lazy in the warm buildings. This is the life!
All that aside however, I have another pleasing day ahead of me. For Art and the Creampuff made a request of me some time ago and I made a promise.
And I hate to back out of a promise.
I'm in the master bedroom now, borrowing the bathroom to clean up and change clothes in. Janet knows what we're up to, hell she sent me off with a knowing grin some twenty minutes ago. While the intense doctor is not participating in the scene, her permission is an integral part of it.
This permanent triad is interesting to interface with. Not just two minds and heart and library of taboos to deal with, but three. There have been long phone calls to set this up and ensure as best we can as mature adults that everyone is okay with this.
In the reflection of the full-length mirror, I critically examine my frame. Yep, Tessa's right, I am starting to finally put on some noticeable weight. The chaps are getting snug enough that this will be their last wild ride until after the baby is born.
I still haven't gotten used to the idea of being pregnant and it's been three months since that wild trip to meet Jim Ellison and Blair Sandburg. It'll be a riot to find out which of them actually fathered the baby. Cradling the barely rounded slope of my abdomen, I grin in anticipation of meeting my child soon. Go figure that after all these years, I'm finally knocked up. Karen has enjoyed teasing me unmercifully about it.
Shaking off my thoughts, I pull the jacket on and settle the Leonacoeur personality around me like armor. In the next room a nervous new submissive awaits my expertise.
Let the games begin!
++ Art ++
We've been sitting here for what feels like an hour, even though I know that it hasn't even been fifteen minutes. Sam is still, but she vibrates with tension and nerves. I have to admit that I really want to ask her, yet again, if she's ready for this.
Only two days ago, Sam finally found her libido again. After nearly four and a half months since Elana's birth, Sam finally gave into her very real carnal need and came to me. How she humbles me with her trust and her love. Grinning mistily, I hook a hand around her neck and pull her into a half-hug.
"I love you, ehrohmenee (lover). Relax. Dace won't do anything you don't want."
"I know," she whispers and I'm startled by the note of amusement in her voice. "I'm just antsy, Daddy."
"You little tease," I growl, ready to jump her, just like that. There's no reason to fight the urge, so I twist around to kiss Sam flat to the bed. Our years together, Janet included of course, have not blunted the potential of wildfire among us. Oh sure, the dual pregnancies wreaked havoc with my women, but they've stuck it out and are as sexy and sensual as ever.
Truthfully, I've missed Sam as a lover while her body and soul recovered from her difficult pregnancy and birth. Feeling her hands in my hair and her body arching up into mine is a lovely balm for our long separation.
The soft creak of the door almost makes me jump away from the haven of Sam's body. Fortunately, I know it must be Dace and there's absolutely no freaking point in having an iota of embarrassment around that one. Swallowing Sam's sound of near-alarm, I kiss her even deeper, locking our teeth, pressing her skull deep into the bedding.
In a few quickened heartbeats, Sam has obviously forgotten that we now have an audience.
In a few more, so have I.
++ Sam ++
Looking back, I really have no idea what kept me from the succor of Art and Janet's physical love for so long. At least I can blame post-partum hormones and the scar that now splits my abdomen. At least I almost match my Art now.
God, but she makes me crazy, always has. Something about this woman's touch lights a fire in me that is unique to her. No offense to Janet of course, but there's something between Art and I that stands alone. Elana's presence has been a very real reinforcement.
My baby girl has altered me, just as surely as the two women who love me. Just the memory of her weight and smell and sound makes me smile into Art's kiss. The smile gets one in return and Art raises her head up to regard me fondly and with definite lust in her eye.
"That was nice," Art says somewhat idiotically and I laugh and hug her close. Only then do we look over to where Dace stands, stock-still, at the door with a fond smile on her face. In those menacing clothes with her arms crossed over her chest, the tall woman is intimidating, despite the smile.
"I'll say," she adds in quietly but does not move. Some part of me understands that the next step is ours. Now I must swallow my ingrained embarrassment and once more accept the need inside of me that these women fulfill. The fantasies of the biker woman from that bar so long ago are deep ones. Lucky me that I get to actually fulfill some of those fantasies with the very woman who inspired them. To my surprise, Dace suddenly pipes up conversationally, "y'know, all that time ago, back in the bar? It was a quiet night and nothing unusual was supposed to happen." On silent feet, a great trick in those boots with their tinkling chains, Dace walks over to the armchair in the corner and plops down on it. "Me and Karen were just having a drink, watching the crowd, bitching about the wannabes. The usual crap."
Art rolls away and we sit up to listen to Dace's nostalgia.
"Until you two walked in, that's exactly what we had. A nice quiet night. I remember how wild the crowd was for you, Creampuff," the leer in Dace's voice makes me blush. "And I remember the look on Karen's face when she recognized you. When you kissed her, I think she blushed as hard as I laughed."
++ Art ++
I've heard the story from Karen's point of view. At least as much of it as she'll actually talk about, the chicken shit. But this is a new twist on an old tale.
"You were both good passengers," Dace continues on her rambling tale, her pale stare intense. "That doesn't come easily to just every idiot that climbs onto a motorcycle. I'm guessing that Karen made me take you Creampuff, because you were so damn friendly." The dark chuckle makes me giggle in response, Sam flushing again. "I'm more used to that kind of distraction than she." An airy, arrogant wave of one gloved hand about her head makes Sam and I giggle. "Years of practice, y'know."
"It's like riding a bike?" Sam chimes up cheekily and gets a mocking glare from Dace.
"Are you sassing me?" It's a mildly voiced question, but there is an unmistakably threatening undercurrent to the words. With a shudder of reaction, Sam drops her eyes from the feral burn of Dace's gaze.
"Ummm…" Sam hedges and I can't help but swallow a huff of laughter. Bet she's starting to drip like a cheap hussy. Something about a bossy tone and an overpowering attitude, in context of course, certainly does a number to my sweet ehrohmenee's libido. This is her chance to give into another's power, since only she and I have played like this before.
Long moments pass while Dace effortlessly stares Sam down and even I'm starting to feel a little squirmy. Then the taller blonde grins suddenly and that dangerous edge evaporates like steam. "Cool. I think this should work great. You're very responsive Sam." Briskly, she rubs her hands together and sits forward in the chair, expression eager and businesslike. "Now, lets go over the rules one more time to get it solid in our heads." My nod echoes Sam's. We knew to expect this from both Dace and Karen's coaching. "All three parties are in charge of the scene. Always remember that and the safe-words. Speaking of which, mine are Kaitlyn for the slow down signal and Hollywood for a full stop." We both digest that, memorizing the syllables and the sound. "What are your safe-words?"
It takes a moment for Sam to realize that the dynamics have shifted again, but I force myself to remain silent and still. She wants this and she must go through the process herself. When she does speak, her voice is soft and strained. "Slow down is naquada and the stop word is so… Sokar." Now I do touch her, responding to the agony of the memories mixed in with that hated name. There is a long pause as Sam leans into my shoulder and I pet her affectionately. In the corner of my eye, I can see Dace mouthing the words to herself, committing them to memory.
++ Dace ++
I have no clue in hell what the odd, foreign-sounding words mean, but I think I have them down in my head. Now is another moment where this closely knit couple needs to regroup, their heads pressed close, hands touching the other. Feeling intrusive, I remain still and silent until they are ready to continue.
This reminds me, strangely, of Sylvia taking all those years of time to teach me patience and focus and calm. All those years of merciless training from my heavy-handed Mistress; teaching me the skills of a good Sub, to be a good student in all ways. And now I know that she helped me stay sane in that lonely place in my soul that only Catherine fills.
The press of blue eyes brings me back to the present. Once more committing Sam's safe-words to memory, I return my attention to the scene at hand. Still nervous, they both nonetheless hold my gaze steadily and I have to grin. "And your words, Art?" My question takes her off guard. "You are just as involved here as Sam and me."
It is exactly the correct thing to say and I send a silent thank you to all my past teachers for the ability to adapt to others. Startled and pleased to be included so completely, Art speaks up. "I'll use Sam's."
"Acceptable. Now, I was taking a good look at that amazing bathroom in August and I couldn't help but notice a few extra pieces of hardware." Both Sam and Art flush a bit and look at one another with giggling, fun-loving embarrassment. "Are they as strong as they look?"
"Oh yeah," Art supplies lecherously and I have to chuckle at Sam's girlish giggle.
"Excellent. Now, my phone interviews with you two gave me some kinks to work with and we'll play the rest by ear. Relax, have fun, be honest. Sound good?"
It's another job well done as they both nod enthusiastically.
++ Sam ++
It's time and I follow Dace's crooked finger into the bathroom, Art right behind me.
"Ah there we are," Dace comments idly and gestures me nonchalantly to step in by the tub. "Now then, Creampuff, let's see how bad you want this." Arrogant and implacable, Dace has leaned against the sink, propping up a foot and crossing her arms. My look of confusion makes her eyes narrow, traces of humor at the corner of her mouth reminding me that this is still a game. "You're overdressed."
Only two days ago I broke a celibacy of nearly a year. The pregnancy had been hard on me on all fronts; physically, emotionally, socially. Two nights ago the loss of my mate's touch became too much and Art and I rechristened the hot tub. Later that night with Janet, we made up for lost time. From that came the decision to do this, after months of debate.
And here I am, still feeling shy after all these years, digging deep into my sexual need in order to entertain all parties.
Swaying to the beat of my need, I begin to strip, eyes half-closed to heighten the vulnerable sensation. Right on cue, the folk-rock beat of 'Bitch' come from the built in speakers in the ceiling to help out my mood. Grinning in appreciation to Art as she sets the remote back onto the counter, I feel it more closely now, swaying my hips, peeling away the fabric covering me.
Several songs have played by the time I get naked and Dace's soft voice almost startles me when she speaks up quietly. "Very nice, Sam. Very nice. Are you feeling it now?"
"Oh yes," I breathe, already down the road of arousal.
"In the tub."
This is it. This is where I give myself to another person for the first time since Art and Janet took me in as the third point in our triangle.
++ Art ++
This is a supremely bizarre experience, bar none. One of the tunes from Cirque Du Soleil is playing now, a strange, bouncy tune I can mostly tune out. Now is my turn to sit quietly on the closed toilet and watch Dace seduce my pale lover. Slow, catlike and all predatory instinct, Dace stalks Sam, easing closer to the vulnerable length of that beautifully naked body. The contrast of bare skin to the heavy leather and denim is startling, part of the scene and very, very effective.
I love Sam as a lover, as a friend, as all things. Even when we're occasionally annoyed with one another, or Janet with one or both of us, I still adore her. But I'm realizing that I have missed aspects of this treasured partner. Between Sam and Janet, they are always lovers of equal status, their experiences sensual and soft and… well, vanilla, for lack of a better word. I like that as much as any sane person, but I also like Sam all whiny and needy like this.
But I've never been able to watch her.
Strong hands wrapped in thin black kidskin caress lightly over Sam's paleness and she shivers erotically and whimpers. A faint, low growl makes her twitch, the gloved hands smoothing so lightly over that beautiful skin.
Dry-mouthed, I watch avidly, only aware of the contrast in skins and the pounding of my own heart.
"Ropes," the voice finally registers, the emphasis telling me that Dace is more amused than impatient with my inattentiveness. Dragging my brain from the morass of sexual need that is taking over this room, I shake my head and reach beneath the sink for the tool box. There's a smile from Dace as I spin the combination lock to get at the contents.
"The kids get into everything," I explain and her grin deepens.
"Can't imagine what a hellion mine will be."
The bantering eases up the pressure of the moment as I pull out the gear inside and lay it on a clean towel.
++ Dace ++
It's a nice little toolbox, perfect for the private kinks of these two women. Some thick cotton rope, a couple tubes of lube, a handful of clothespins, a box of latex gloves and some random detritus. Then Art picks up the neat coils of rope and I grin at the hefty dildo there.
"That's right," I purr into Sam's ear, holding her hips to grind her back into my crotch, sans dick at the moment, but I'll fuck her mind for now. "The Little Dog here tells me you've got an ass fetish. And here I thought you just liked being spanked."
"Oh god," she whimpers. Mmm, such sweet distress. I love it.
"I'm more than happy to oblige, of course," I continue in that same darkly knowing and teasing tone. "Is that what you'd like, sweet little Creampuff?"
I barely heard the words; she'd spoken them so softly. Resting her forehead against her upper arm, Sam shivers slightly and I caress her skin again, wishing I could feel the texture. Ah well, save some for later and all that!
"Pretty girl, sweet, lovely thing," I flatter as Art hands over the rope and I notice the wide-pupil arousal building in the dark woman's eyes. Good, she should have as much fun as Sam and I grin in encouragement and take the rope. Trailing the coils and my hands over Sam's belly and breasts, I push her hands up so that she has to watch me tie her wrists. Sure, it's a little awkward with me behind her, but I can do this in my sleep.
With quick expertise, Sam's wrists are bound and I toss the trailing end over the heavy, ornate-looking hook above the tub. I have got to ask Art where she found it, as it looks totally innocent. Ah well, back to the present. A tug has Sam pulled taut, not quite on her toes, and I tie off the trailing end into a quick slip knot.
Now, she'll have to stew for a few minutes to get her nice and juice.
++ Sam ++
The shivering is constant now, but the tremors are not from cold. My mind is consumed with remembering the times I'd clung to a rope suspended from this hook while Art screwed me senseless from behind, Janet kneeling in front to tease the hell out of my clit. I couldn't hold back the gasping whimper and Art chuckles lowly; I know she knows what I am thinking of. Glancing back, I see her whispering with Dace, both of them eyeing me like a dog would a piece of meat. I'm a dead woman…
But what a way to go.
"Art?" My voice sounds thin and little panicky, and Art is instantly pressed into my side, arms around my vulnerable, strung up body.
"Right here, Sam," she murmurs lovingly. "You okay?"
I nod and take a deep, steadying breath. "Just a little nervous."
That smile is everything to me, sweet and gentle and loving. The deep kiss is even better, the balm of this woman flowing over me. "If you don't want to do this, all you have to do is say so," Art murmurs against my mouth. "Nobody will think any less of you if you do."
"No, I want to. I just… Nobody's done this except you, Art."
"Fair enough. But can I let you in on a secret, ehrohmenee?" Art grins almost self-consciously and I nod. "I want to watch her do this. I want to see your face when she's fucking you."
"You do?" It's not so much disbelief in my tone, but relief that she's in this as much for herself as me. Oh sure, we've talked it out in the abstract, but this is different. This is me strung up on the hook while Dace peruses the toy box in preparation to fuck me silly. But the turn on in Art's voice, and the reality of what is about to happen, burns a trail of arousal from my brain down to my clit in record time.
++ Art ++
"Oh yeah," I enthuse to my sweet girl. "To be able to stand here, hold you and watch your face while you're getting fucked by someone that's as tall as you are? It's a big fantasy of mine. And there really aren't a lot of women we know that are tall enough to do this for you. I mean, it's Dace here or Karen…"
Sam shakes her head adamantly, flushing hotly. "Not Karen. That's not…"
"I know, Sam," I reassure, lightly pressing my fingers against her lips to stop any further words. "And that's why Dace here is going to be so obliging. Right, Big Cat?"
"Fuck yeah!" Dace voices enthusiastically, before she sobers and steps into our line of sight. This seems like a good time to step aside, but I remain within touching distance. "So seriously, Sam, what are you comfortable with here? All games aside, I want you to be honest with me. Art's gonna be right here with you and I'll stop in a heartbeat if you need me to. And there's no camera in here. This'll just be between the three of us. It'll stay in this room unless we all agree to tell someone else. Of course, Janet is different. You can share anything of this that you want with her. But I won't share with anyone else without your permission. Not even Catherine."
That smart brain of Sam's processes the words, her gaze distant for a moment before she smiles bravely. "I want you to fuck me, Dace. If… if Art hasn't already told you, I've got a thing for being fucked in the ass, and I like to be Daddy'd." I'm proud of the steadiness of Sam's voice as she divulges these perfectly healthy urges to our friend. "Spank me, fuck me, make me suck your cock. Whatever…"
Dace blinks in surprise and for a split second, we see that golden glow in her blue eyes, sense the predator in her. Then her face lights up with a broad grin and she leans in to kiss Sam thoroughly. "You got it, Sam. And for that lovely bit of honesty, you're going to get a treat."
Before Sam can get a word in edgewise, Dace kneels down to bury her face in that lovely blonde tuft. Instantly, Sam is on her toes, one leg tossed over a leather clad shoulder, a whine escaping her lips. This is what the night is about, my Sam's pleasure. While she quivers and cries out, straining against the rope, I cannot find it in myself to hold any jealousy in this unusual treat. Growling, Dace is merciless, holding Sam's twitching pelvis to her mouth, making my ehrohmenee really cry for it. Keening, Sam crashes over the cliff into orgasm, body shaking.
++ Dace ++
Ah, that's nice; the taste of a fresh new pussy to savor. Damn, I love my job. It doesn't take much to get Sam off, teeth and tongue working their magic on her sweet clit. That subsonic keening of her orgasm is every bit as sexy and deafening as Art described and I dial my hearing down as far as I can, trying not to wince. A few more pulls at her quivering clit makes Sam whimper at me for mercy and I finally let up.
"You taste even better than I'd expected, Creampuff," I crow and straighten up. Stepping out of the tub, I pat Art on the ass, startling her. "I'm gonna go change into a different harness for your big boy here. Back in a flash!"
But first, a quick errand.
Trotting down the stairs at a quick clip, I'm in search of a different quarry now. Straining my senses, the house seems to be empty. So I ignore the cold and race next door. With a start of surprise, my prey looks up from her book and eyes me curiously.
"Bane!" I crow happily. "How the fuck is my most favorite big sister?"
"Whatever it is, the answer's no," Karen tells me dryly as I advance on her. I can feel Dare's eyes watching us hungrily as I unceremoniously straddle Karen's lap, grab her hair and pull her into a tonsil-scrubbing kiss. There's a moment of surprise before that familiar tongue snakes out to take a good sample of the tasty treat I've brought her.
When I finally pull back to let us breathe again, I grin at her and murmur just low enough for her ears only, "You couldn't have a piece of the creampuff any other way. Hope you enjoyed that little taste…" Chuckling evilly, I climb to my feet and flash an evil grin at Darya. "Good to see you two. Well, back to work."
As I trot out the door, I hear Karen's fondly annoyed voice follow me out. "You evil bitch." Oh, there's no doubt that she'll take that little display out of my hide later. Hell, I'm looking forward to it!
Racing back across the snowy yard, I shake off the cold and book up the stairs to where my stuff is laying on the big bed in the master bedroom. Dropping trou, I fish out the traditional strap-on harness with its nylon straps and simple buckles. In just a few moments it's in place and I pull up the jeans but decide to leave the chaps here, kicking them away. Damn things are too heavy in the warm bathroom.
So, fly undone to tease, I'm back to the game at hand!
++ Sam ++
For the past few minutes, Art has alternated cuddling and teasing me. It's working to keep me aroused and focused as we wait. There's a thump of sound out in the main room and we both still to listen to the heavy footfalls thump across the floor. Then the bathroom door is flung open and I jump despite myself.
"We ready for this?" Dace booms in a big voice, taking over the whole room. "Let's bring out that bad boy and get this show on the road!"
Shaking with nerves and desire, I watch Dace hold out an imperious hand to Art until the big dildo is handed over. Humming tunelessly to herself, Dace expertly threads the thick silicone shaft through the ring held in place at her groin by the straps peeking out of her loosened pants. Yanking the straps tight, the blue eyes, so cosmetically like my own, pin me hungrily and I am prey once more.
This woman kisses like a lioness at a kill, hungry and feral and almost a little mean. The squirmy, girlish part of me that so loves to be sexually dominated loves it, whimpering and surrendering to her power. I've long since given up trying to figure out why this kind of behavior, in context, turns me on so much. Better to just go with it and have fun!
Oh how I want to cling to her, touch that fragrant leather, stroke her wild hair, cling to her body, taller than my own. But that is not my lot for now, mine is to simply accept what she gives me. Growling low and throaty, Dace continues to kiss me deeply, the dildo teasingly rubbing back and forth in my wet pubes.
The conflict of the lack of touch is a confusing turn on. I love to touch my lovers while we make love, but the bondage makes me pay closer attention to every sensation, every caress, every nerve firing.
The silicone shaft teases my sensitive clit and I force myself to let go of my thoughts, my conflict and concentrate on the feel of this new lover and the sensations in my body.
The orgasm is a good one.
++ Art ++
There is a big part of me that wishes Janet were here to watch this with me, but I know she wouldn’t quite be comfortable with it. Perhaps she’ll like a verbal account while Sam squirms between us? Yeah, that should work…
Sam keens into Dace's kiss, very close to the edge. I can tell she wants to wrap herself around the other blonde. Sam likes being tactile when we make love. It makes me fight the desire to join them. My ehrohmenee is so responsive; sometimes she can get my crippled libido riled up just with her reactions.
Sam is close now, her body twitching at the end of the rope. Aggressively, Dace grips her hips in strong hands and grinds their lower bodies together, making Sam break, jerking in orgasm, head thrown back, voice cracking.
Before my lover can fully recover, Dace moves to crouch behind her. Pulling out a sheet of latex from god knows where, she quickly spread the cheeks of Sam’s ass and leans in to tease at that oh so sensitive anus. Bucking and crying out, Sam's pleasure drives straight to my groin. Jeezus, but this is far more of a turn-on than I’d expected it to be.
Judging from the way Sam is squirming and writhing against Dace, she's really enjoying the rim job. I’d never thought about mentioning it to Dace, but I know it's a pretty big turn off for my wife. Leave it to the Big Cat to fulfill this particular fetish of Sam’s. Dace’s grip on Sam’s hips slow my lover down just enough for her to shift her legs a little wider.
"Little Dog, bring me the lube, will you?" Dace abruptly ask, pulling back to grin at me before biting at the curve of Sam's hip. She chuckles darkly at Sam's squeal and then pushes to her feet to turn to face her prey again. "Unfortunately, Creampuff, this isn't a brand new dildo, or I'd have you on your knees lubing it for me with your mouth. But I'll make you a promise. If you decide you want to play again in the future, I'll get one just for you. In fact, we'll go buy it together. Then I'll give you the full spectrum. Sound good?" Sam nods eagerly, and I fight a stab of jealousy that they'd play that game alone. Handing Dace the lube, I struggle with that jealous Greek side of me. Grinning knowingly, Dace hooks me with one long arm, yanking me into her body, so much less substantial than it appears beneath the leather, and kisses me soundly. Startled, I am seduced by the taste of my beloved Sam in this new mouth, groaning happily. "With your pack's permission, of course," Dace adds softly for my benefit, giving my nipple a tweak and making me jump. Then her voice rises jovially. "You're next, Little Dog," she laughs and grabs the lube, turning over one of my hands to pour some of the gel into it. "You'll do it for us?"
++ Sam ++
Art almost declines; I can see the conflict in her eyes, until I show the desperation in my own gaze. Then she gets back into the game leaning in to give me a loving kiss, the kind that makes me feel like her everything. Satisfied by my anxious moaning, I want this so bad now, the need cramping my guts, Art's hand moves behind me slathering the lube across the dildo. I figure that's it, I'm at Dace's tender mercies now, but I'm thrilled by the quick slide of Art's familiar fingers between my legs before she turns to seat to watch again. Once more I am in the zone, squirming happily and ready for anything.
"Art?" Dace vocalizes softly, tenderly. "C'mere, Little Dog, stand here with Sam, stay close. I want you both to enjoy this."
Even better for me to have my anchor close, her hands on my skin, preventing any chance of some random freak out. "He-ey, ehrohmenee, you okay?" she asks softly, but I'm having trouble listening.
It's time, my breath sucking loudly through clenched teeth, my heartbeat loud in my ears. Strong hands, unfamiliar, one on my hip, the other brushing my asscheek, guiding that familiar invader. The sparking pleasure-pain races across my nervous system as my body objects to the penetration, giving in reluctantly to the heft. I know that I am moaning fairly constantly now, the stimulation overpowering, the slide of the dildo in my sensitive ass, the strain in my arms, the bodies cradling me carefully.
I've got the groove now, my pleasure centers in sync and I press my hips back into Dace's pelvis, her hands tight against my hipbones. "Please, Dace," I whimper, smiling at the answering chuckle.
There is something so very different about being cradled by this larger body, wrapped around me protectively. Suddenly my tall body feels more helpless than usual, almost girlish, and another barrier in my mind crumbles. Dimly I'm aware of Dace pulling up my left leg to rest my foot on the edge of the tub and the angle of her slow, steady thrusting changes, making me squeal. Art's touch on my skin keeps me as focused as possible, her breath hot and fast on my skin.
Her pleasure is my pleasure too, and the intensity climbs.
++ Art ++
I stroke Sam's hair, murmuring to keep her grounded in us. My hands wander along her tense body, helping Dace as much as I can. It's fascinating to watch the taller blonde lean forward and suck and nibble at the side of Sam's neck. The two of them are fucking hot together. This whole height thing is obviously as much a turn on for Dace as it is for Sam and me. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, it doesn't take Sam long to near orgasm again. Between Dace's expert hips and my wandering hands, Sam is soon howling in that subsonic tone that makes the dogs cry. Thank god we'd soundproofed these rooms.
The shattering echo is deafening.
"No, don't," Sam finally whines. "Too sensitive."
I give her a quick, loving kiss and take a shaky step back out of the tub. Damn it, but I want to throw someone against the wall and fuck them senseless! Sam's definitely out of commission for the rest of the night and Janet's on baby duty tonight.
"Not so fast, Little Dog," Dace purrs, suddenly right in front of me. Startled at her silent approach, I backpedal until I hit the wall and she leans against me. Her nostrils flare and I hear that low rumble like a big cat. "Smells like someone else needs a little help." Quick hands deftly jerk my fly open and one slips beneath the fabric. When some still-sane part of me starts to protest, she shakes her head, expression sympathetic and no nonsense. "Nothing more than a quickie to get the edge off, honest." My nerves quiver when her fingers caress over my scars, making her eyebrows raise in curiosity for a split second, but she continues down to stroke at me. "You're nice and wet, Art. I think you liked watching me fuck Sam, didn't you?"
I can only nod, voice gone as her thumb brushes across my stomach and the ridges of scars there.
"Stomach," Sam murmurs. "Dace, stroke her scars."
++ Dace ++
Interesting hotspot, but I certainly won't argue! Raw and hot, I jerk at Art's pants again, gaining a little working room so there's room for both hands. Part of me really wishes I could feel more, but the kidskin gloves are as much a mental barrier as a physical one. These women are not mine to have, and my enjoyment must only go so far. Holding the deep-ocean dark eyes, only a narrow rim of blue showing, I press the strongest couple of fingers of my left hand into the grip of Art's silky cunt and caress my own scarred hand over the ridge that bisects her right down the middle. I don't even remember how I know about the scars, probably something Karen or Dare said in passing, but even a sound bite of the story is heart wrenching.
"C'mon, Little Dog," I purr in encouragement as her hips begin to rock. "Just let go and enjoy. Isn't that what you've been telling Sam all this time? Why should she be the only one to get off tonight?"
The dark eyes are unfocused and I alternate from caressing the scars and pressing heavily into her smaller body, letting the folds and zippers and snaps of the motorcycle jacket stimulate her upper body and rubbing my nose and mouth against her throat and ear.
About the time I start to worry that I can't pull this off, Art starts to tremble and it hits suddenly, like a gust of wind. Her hands on my shoulders grip as tight as her pussy grips my invading fingers and I smile.
Businesslike, I step away a bit, tugging Art's disheveled pants straight and getting button and zipper back in place. Still panting, she allows me to press her to sit back down and catch her breath while I return to Sam.
"Hey Creampuff, do you have the energy to stand there for another couple minutes?"
Curious, Sam nods and resettles her weight at the end of the rope. Checking that her fingers are still warm and pink, I'm satisfied that her circulation is still fine and jerk the tap on to warm up for a moment. That lets me strip off my jacket and the gloves, throwing them negligently onto the vanity. Talking flattering nonsense, I scrub Sam down with the apricot scented body wash I find nearby, soothing her sensitive skin with a sensuous, but not sexual touch.
++ Sam ++
I like this post-scene treatment. Gentle, firm and soothing, Dace scrubs her hands over my skin, her expression intent. This gives me time to get my mind settled as well as my body, quivering uncontrollably as she gently soaps away the lube, reminding me again of the pleasures I just experienced. Then I am carefully rinsed all over with the shower hose attachment and I soak up the spoiling.
"Okay, then, let's finish up, shall we? Bet you two are ready for bed. And I think I need to go find Catherine and Sara, huh?" The tone is teasing, but the urgency is very real. Yeah, I can understand how she feels.
Grabbing a towel, Dace quickly dries off her arms and tosses the towel over the edge of the tub. A quick jerk releases my arms and I groan as circulation suddenly comes easily to my stretched limbs. Strong arms cradle me; get my shaking body perched on the folded towel. "Easy now," Dace soothes and grabs another towel to pat me dry.
Smiling at Art, I'm relieved to get a smile in return. Aside from the very real sexual satisfaction we're both feeling, this could just be a somewhat unusual spa treatment.
Dace stills at my touch on her shoulder and returns my slow smile. "Thank you," I whisper, already quite ready to fall asleep right here.
"You're welcome, Sam. Now, off to bed with you. Come on, Art." Effortlessly, I am scooped up like a child by this dear friend and carried off to my own big bed. Warm and clean and well-fucked, I sprawl happily in the familiar bedding, cradling Art close when she joins me after stripping down.
"Love you," whispers my dark lover and I return the endearment softly, slurred and unfocused with exhaustion. Forgotten is Dace and the scene she played with us. There is only my lover and the peaceful darkness awaiting us.
Tomorrow we will tell Janet of our adventure, giggle and make love to the memories, our lives back to normal. All is right with the world and now is the time to sleep.