Mitzi and Emma sat on the couch.
I sat in a nearby chair, my feet in Mitzi's lap.
We exchanged pleasantries over drinks.
Emma was funny, finding a punch line to every thread of conversation.
I was laughing.
As I traded joke with Emma, my eyes were on Mitzi's.
She laughed at all the right places, but she was clearly wrestling with trepidations.
Mitzi was curious to meet Emma. She wanted to uncover the mystery of my secret boyfriend.
Now she was seated between the two of us. She could see that Emma was attractive, charming and funny. I laughed at all her jokes. I clearly liked her.
I know Mitzi's mind.
What's not to like about this girl, she was thinking.
Mitzi had to worry: would her boyfriend's secret boyfriend become his new girlfriend?
I wanted to set her mind at ease.
I wanted her to relax.
After all, Emma was here as much for her as for me.
"Well," I said, glancing at the clock. "We have about an hour and a half before the orgy begins. I think we need to get Mitzi naked."
Over Mitzi's shoulder, Emma nodded enthusiastically.
"I'm not sure," Mitzi hedged, looking back at Emma. "Would it be okay if I just, you know . . . watched the two of you first?"
I looked at Emma.
"I have no problem with that," I said.
"Oh, me either," Emma smiled.
“Let’s move to the bedroom then, shall we?” I suggested, standing.
Mitzi may have noticed how confidently Emma led the way.
I followed, holding Mitzi’s hand.
“I’m scared, Jefferson,” she whispered.
“I’ll take care of you,” I replied, squeezing lightly.
Emma stood beside her bed, as she had on the night we met . . .
“Mitzi, why don’t you take a seat by the window?” I offered, “While I unwrap Emma.”
Mitzi sat, her eyes on mine.
I smiled at her, then took my eyes away.
I turned to face Emma.
Our blue eyes.
I kissed her gently, languishing in the texture of her lips against mine.
My hands held her hair, so soft and fine.
I could feel Mitzi’s eyes calling to me, wishing for me to look back at her, to reassure her.
But not yet.
I pulled back and began to tug at Emma’s shirt.
She raised her arms. “You think you can handle the bra strap, Jefferson, or do you need me to do it?”
“I really think I need the experience, Emma,” I said, pulling her shirt free. I tossed it aside. “But thank you for the offer.”
“Anytime,” she said, dropping her arms to her side.
I reached around her.
I stuck my tongue in my cheek.
“Okay, now let me see,” I said, my fingers fumbling with the clasps. “Okay, there’s one . . “
“You are pathetic,” she teased.
“No, wait, that’s two . . .”
“Do you need me to . . . “
“Ha! Three! I did it!”
“Yeah, Jefferson, you’ve got mad skills.”
I pulled her bra forward and away from her body. It joined her shirt on the floor.
I cupped her large breasts in my hands. I hefted each in turn.
“You know, if I were a tit man, I’d really admire these,” I said.
“If you were any kind of man at all, you would know my tits are awesome,” she retorted.
My lips were too busy on a nipple to sustain our repartee.
My tongue traced the soft flesh of her belly. I fought the impulse to move quickly, as my ardor was building.
We were, after all, putting on a show for a private audience.
I dropped to my knees. I licked the seam of her jeans.
I made a note to spend some time on her jeans at some point. I recalled a girlfriend in high school who only gradually, after months of foreplay, allowed me to removed her jeans to lick her pussy.
All those months, I had licked and chewed her jeans until she came.
The night she relented, I unzipped her with my teeth.
No time for that on this night, however. The orgy was due to begin soon.
I took the waistband in my fingers. I raised my eyes to Emma’s as I kneeled before her.
Her face was still, but I knew she was thinking of our secret.
Only we knew that she was dominating me behind closed doors.
I unfastened her jeans.
I lowered them to her thighs, then tugged them town to her feet.
I held her hand to steady her as she stepped out of her pants.
I pushed them to the side.
I bent to kiss her calves, kissing my way to her thighs.
Gentle butterflies for a pretty girl.
I arrived to her panties, small and dark black against her pale skin.
I tongued her crotch.
“I wish I didn’t have my period,” she said, her fingers in my hair. “Because I would love to fuck your face, little girl.”
Careful, I thought to her. Don’t let that slip.
I stood. “Let’s leave the panties on, then.”
I kissed her again, once more long, once more languid.
Two brown eyes silently calling my name.
Kissing Emma, I pulled at my shirt.
I released her lips long enough to take the shirt over my head.
I tossed it aside and returned to her lips hungry, as if we’d been denied to one another for an age.
I pulled at my pajama bottoms.
They fell to the floor.
I kicked them aside.
I pressed my cock hard into her as I grabbed her up in my arms.
My hands pressed her to me.
Closer, God damn it, Emma, my mind screamed to hers. I fucking want you close to me.
I’m scared, Jefferson, the brown eyes pleaded.
“Let’s move to the bed, Emma,” I whispered into her mouth.
“Okay,” she whispered into mine.
I lingered, unable to give up her kiss.
“Jefferson . . . “
“Just . . . wait, okay?”
“Whenever you’re ready,” she smiled, taking in my kiss.
My forearms pressed into her back.
It was frustrating how far away she seemed.
The only way to get her closer was to be on top of her.
I stepped back one long step.
“Okay, get on the bed, please.” I pointed to her target, irritated, impatient.
“Finally,” she sighed. The bed was a step away.
She took her sweet time covering that distance in a slow sashay.
You are fucking playing with fire, Emma, I thought to her.
Now, please, the brown eyes begged.
I gently lowered my body onto Emma.
I stroked the blonde strands away from her face.
I smiled into her eyes.
I ran a finger across her full, pink lips. My lips followed the path of my finger.
My hips pressed into hers.
My cock moved against her labia, pressing cotton into her body.
We were so at ease with one another, our rapport, our touches, our feel, the way we could, to put it plainly, make love.
I turned to the brown eyes.
Mitzi was sunk into her chair.
I’ve seen a picture of her as a young girl.
She was sitting on a very large chair in her parent’s home. She was holding a thick blue blanket, sucking her thumb.
I saw an adorable dark-haired cherub.
“Look,” she had said. “I have the proof: I was an ugly baby.”
“That is not an ugly baby,” I said, surprised by her sudden sadness.
“Are you kidding? Look at those thick brows, those fat cheeks.”
“How old are you in this picture, Mitzi? Three?”
“Yes,” she sighed. “Too young to get my eyebrows threaded.”
“Your mama sure did a number on you,” I said, handing back the photo.
“Yep, she sure did.”
As I lay across the warm voluptuousness of pretty Emma, I looked to the chair and saw that scared little girl, ugly, alone, frightened.
Now, brown eyes.
I rolled over, and with surprising grace-for one never knows how these things will go-I landed in a crouch at Mitzi’s feet.
I rested a hand on her knee. I put my chin on my hand.
“No, Jefferson.” She shook her head. “No.”
I nodded. “Yes, Mitzi. Yes.”
I had driven to the very limits of her insecurities, her jealousy, her self doubt.
It was cruel, intentionally so.
Now, I had to drive her back.
Once she learns that path, she can walk it on her own.
I stood and took her hand.
I raised her into my kiss.
I ran my fingers through her thick black locks, that gorgeous tangle that frames her soulful face.
I took her velvety cheek in my palm.
I inhaled deeply, absorbing the rich vanilla of her skin, bringing her into my body.
Keeping her there.
Blue eyes watched us, taking notes.
My hand caressed her body through her clothes.
“I want these off,” I said.
“Yes, Jefferson.” Mitzi smiled a little.
“I want them off now, Mitzi.” I let a hint of sternness enter my voice.
“Yes, Jefferson.” She pulled her arms into her sleeves.
“All of it, now.” My voice was rising.
“Yes, Jefferson.” She moved more rapidly.
“I’m losing interest,” I said sharply. “I can easily return to Emma.”
“I’m hurrying, Jefferson . . . “ She trembled as she unfastened her jeans.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered.
Mitzi lowered her pants and hurried kicked aside the jeans.
I put my hands on my hips.
She wriggled free of her panties, dropping them with her pants.
She stood again.
“Fuck, finally,” I scowled. “A man could grow a long beard waiting. Now, get on the bed, ass high.”
Mitzi suppressed a giggle. “Yes, Jefferson.”
Emma slide aside to make room.
“Actually, Emma,” I said, my voice now dripping with honey. “You should stand up and join me at the foot of the bed.”
She sat up, then stood beside me.
“This,” I said, my palms firm on Mitzi’s hips. “This is Mitzi’s ass.”
“So I see,” Emma grinned.
“Mitzi’s ass, this is Emma.”
“Pleased to meet you, Emma,” Mitzi squeaked.
“Now, we are going to beat Mitzi’s ass. But first, I need to give you a little tutorial. Remember what we learned in beat up class, Mitzi?”
“I sure do.”
“’Beat up class?’” Emma asked.
“Yes, ‘beat up class.’ That’s what Mitzi calls the session on BDSM we took at Babeland University. They called it ‘SM 101.’”
“Actually, ‘SM 201,’ Jefferson,” Mitzi corrected. “We got advanced placement.”
“Shut your fucking face!” I slapped her ass. “Shoot your mouth off and I’ll show you what that hole is for.”
Mitzi wriggled. “Yes, Jefferson.”
I spanked her again. “Don’t you fucking interrupt me.” Another slap.
Mitzi pulled her shoulders close. “Yes, Jefferson.”
“Good.” I rubbed her ass.
It was warming.
“Now, as I was saying,” I turned to Emma, again talking sweetly. “Here’s what you need to remember about Mitzi’s ass. Here, on her buttocks, is a fine place to spank. Go ahead, give her a spank.”
Emma raised a hand and landed it with a firm slap.
“Nice,” I nodded. “Again.”
“Unh,” Mitzi groaned.
I had to watch that response-I had more to say before we sent Mitzi off into the La La Land of subspace.
“Okay, Emma, very good. Now, here, just above Mitzi’s ass, is forbidden territory. You can’t strike here, as you might damage vital organs.”
“Oh, okay.” Emma’s brow was furrowed as she studied.
“Now, up here, on Mitzi’s shoulders, that’s a good strike zone. Nothing too hard up here, no strong blows, as it can hurt, but some well-placed whacks can really accentuate the main thrust of your beating.”
“Okay, that’s good to know.”
“All right. Now, before, when we spanked her, we went in hard and fast. That’s really not the best way to do it. Instead, you should tenderize the flesh. Give her light slaps, in quick succession. This brings the blood to the surface, which helps to spread the sensation and prevent undue bruises.”
“Hmm, maybe I should take notes.”
“No, Emma, that’s enough to get you started. Why don’t you tenderize Mitzi while I retrieve the arsenal.”
“What are you going to use, Jefferson?” Mitzi asked, raising up a bit.
I put my face in hers. “You fucking shut the fuck up, you God damned fuck hole!”
She pulled back, a little shocked. She breathed a moment and calmed.
“You hear me?”
I had done a fine job of putting her down. I needed to keep her down for the beating.
“Now, Emma,” I said, practically singing her name. “We’re going to use two implements. Here, this is a light whip, good for starting things up.” I lay it on the bed, handle toward Emma. I lifted another item.
“And this monster is a braided cat o’ nine tails.”
“You really hit her with that?”
“Yes Emma, I really do. Keep spanking, please.”
“Oh, right.” Emma returned to slapping Mitzi’s ass.
“Great work. You okay, Mitzi?”
“Good. Then lets take this up a notch. Excuse me, Emma, let me take your place.” Emma moved aside. I stood perpendicular to Mitzi’s ass in a batter’s stance. “See how my feet are positioned? A good posture helps to deliver a firm blow. Like this.”
The slap echoed off the walls.
We could move faster now.
“Got that, Emma?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Good. You try it.”
Emma stood in place, and looked down at her feet. She adjusted her stance.
She raised her arm high, as I had done.
She lowered it fast, delivering a strong wallop.
This time, Emma got an echo.
“Excellent work, Emma, good listening. Now, step aside. I’m going to use the whip. And as I do so, I’ll be going faster and talking less. I want to focus on Mitzi’s ass. So watch closely.”
“Okay, Jefferson.” Emma stood aside.
I stood in place. Emma peered over my elbow at my target.
I looked back at her. “Honey, I need more room than that.”
“Oh, sorry.” She stepped back.
I picked up the small whip. I rubbed Mitzi’s back with my hands, warming her to my touch.
I caressed her ass as the whip lightly thrashed her back.
The whip chased my hand around her back, across her ass, to her shoulders. I make surprise forays to her forearm.
Mitzi breathed deeply.
I stood back, assuming my batter’s stance. I raised the whip high.
I looked at Emma. Her eyes met mine. I nodded.
Down came the whip.
Three times more, one blow after another.
I flourished the whip in the air, whooshing it back to her ass.
Again, this time to the left.
I brought the whipping to a crescendo and then, without warning, stopped.
I dropped the whip to the bed.
My hands caressed Mitzi’s ass.
I held her back, lowering my cheek to her shoulders.
“You okay, baby?”
I listened to her breathing. “Yes, Jefferson.”
I stood up.
“You need to check in regularly,” I said quietly to Emma.
“It’s all about trust,” I said, picking up the cat o’ nine tails.
“Yes, I can see that.”
I lightly traced the cat along Mitzi’s back, again using my hand to guide the sensation.
I dropped the braids heavily onto her skin, allowing her to learn the feel of their knotty leather.
“I will only give a few strokes with this,” I said.
“Yes, Jefferson,” Mitzi breathed.
I took the stance. I raised my arm.
I looked at Emma. Her eyes were on mine.
The cat landed. Mitzi fell forward with a groan.
I touched her hips.
She breathed and returned to position.
The cat landed again. She stayed in place.
I waited as the sting subsided, as the blood rushed to her skin.
Then again. Again.
More blows followed, sure and steady.
And then I stopped.
I dropped the cat.
I caressed and kissed Mitzi's body.
I murmured soothing words.
I listened to her breathing calm.
The room was quiet.
I looked at Emma. “I want the pretty girl to beat you.”
Mitzi adjusted her hips, as if they were making the decision for her.
She began to breath heavily. “Yes, Jefferson.”
“Good girl” I patted Mitzi’s ass.
“Nothing fancy,” I said to Emma quietly. “Just focus on Mitzi and her ass.”
I sat at the head of the bed. I leaned forward and kissed Mitzi’s hair. I stretched my legs along the sides of her body.
“I’ll be supervising from here,” I said to Emma. I took a fistful of Mitzi’s hair and yanked, raising her head. She gasped. “I’ll be watching as Mitzi sucks my cock.”
Mitzi’s surprise gave way to a smile
“Yes . . . Jefferson.”
I smiled at her. Such a pretty face she has. Especially now, radiant in her bliss.
I smiled as I shoved my cock in her mouth.
I was already aroused, yet my cock grew still larger on her tongue.
Her nostrils flared.
I nodded to Emma.
Emma's face was serious and focused as she took up the whip. She rubbed her hands on Mitzi's ass, getting intimate with her new subject.
I heard the first blow sound. Mitzi jumped forward, taking me deep.
"Nice," I said. "Again."
Emma delivered another blow. Mitzi opened her lips to breath around my cock.
I took another fistful of her hair.
"Let it go, let it go," I whispered. I looked up. "Now, Emma."
"Now" was just a word, just something to connect us all to the moment.
It was the last word I would utter for a while.
Emma drew deep into concentration, her vision constricted to the power of her hands and the responses of Mitzi's ass.
Mitzi's brown eyes were closed, as she fell inward, surrendering to the blows and the stimulation in her mouth.
I was drawn into pleasure rushing from my cock to my skull.
Mitzi had sucked my cock for nearly a year by this time, and she always had a fine blowjob. Lately, though, her throat has relaxed more, opening to me.
That night, I was deeper than ever, my head registering the ridges of her esophagus.
The three of us had slipped into a place where we were each connected to the other, yet each absorbed in our own bodies and minds.
We stayed there as long as we could.
We began to slip away as Mitzi's ass reached it's limits.
Emma put down her weapons and caressed the flesh she had reddened.
She slipped her fingers to feel Mitzi's wetness.
Mitzi opned her eyes, sighing into my cock.
I pet her hair, welcoming her back.
Emma was watching me fuck Mitzi, our lips tight on on another, when we heard a shout from the door.
"Yo, Jefferson, you back there?," Apollo called.
"Yeah, we're in the bedroom," I replied.
Apollo smiled as he stood in the door. "Course you are, man, you are all up in it."
On orgy nights, I leave the door open for Apollo. I'm usually involved in some pre-game activity.
"Hi, Apollo," Mitzi cooed. "So nice to see you."
"Nice to see you too," he replied, leaning in to kiss the woman I was fucking. He patted my back. "You doing well, Jefferson?"
"As well as can be expected," I allowed. "Apollo, this is Emma. Emma, Apollo organizes the Nubian parties, and tonight is a Nubian party."
Emma sat up and extended a hand. "Nice to meet you, Apollo. I've only heard good things."
"Yeah, well, I hope it's all good." He took her hand and kissed her cheek. His hand dropped to feel her hips. "So Jefferson, I'm going to set up for the party. Anything need doing?"
"I already have the candles and such out," I replied, still pushing my cock in and out of Mitzi. "But you may want to check on ice, and get the music going."
"Yeah, I burned some new CDs. Okay, let me get that going." He looked back at the door. "Y'all stay busy."
Emma's eyes followed Apollo to the door, taking in his athletic build.
She looked at us as he left.
"You know," she said, "Maybe I will stay for the party."