ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) (27 page)

I felt a pang of disappointment, but brushed it aside. “No, no, of course, I understand. I kind of like the idea of screwing a stranger then never hearing from them again. Makes it so neither of us can mess it up.”

He nodded, smiling, as I pulled on my dress. “It was a wonderful evening, though.”

“That it was, Harry.”

And with that, I was out the door, trying to process what the hell had just happened.

Driving back down the road to my small town, my head was still reeling from the events of that night. I had tried as hard as I could to enjoy my weekend away, but it was impossible to push the memory of him out of my head. Whenever I closed my eyes, I caught a glimpse of his face in my pussy, or the look in his eyes when I exposed myself to him in the bar. It was by far the hottest sex I’d ever had, and I didn’t even know his last name. Hell, I couldn’t even be sure that Harry was actually his real first name. By the time I had arrived back home, I had resolved to push it to the back of my mind. At least I knew one thing for sure: I liked sex with strangers who dominated me. And there was always a way to get hold of that, right?

After posting a few ads on sites like Fetlife to try and find a dominant man to have more regular encounters with, I turned to Craiglist, feeling salacious as I clicked through the Casual Encounters page. I didn’t know how serious I actually was about this, but I knew I wanted to keep my options open. Hell, I was single now, and I could sleep with whomever the hell I wanted. And I fully planned to.

There was the usual kind of adverts, the kinds asking for BBWs to meet men who were always older and handsome and well off but unwilling to share a picture. But that wasn’t what I was looking for. Scrolling further down, one advert jumped out at me. “Young dominant looking for submissive woman for mutual erotic exploration”. Yeah, that sounded like something that might appeal to me. Clicking on the ad, I scanned the page- it was posted by someone claiming to be in their mid-thirties, who lived in the city I’d just come from, and was keen to do a bit of exploring of their dominant side. It was well-written, and not peppered with spelling mistakes that shouldn’t have been a turn-off but were in those other adverts, and it had a couple of pictures at the bottom. When I saw them, my heart stopped.

There was nothing depicted explicitly in the pictures, just a couple of shots of whips and bindings that would have been enough of a turn-on by themselves. But the very last picture was of a hand holding a wooden cane. A hand that I recognised.

I scolded myself. It couldn’t be…could it? Though I had seared every inch of him on to my memory, I doubted myself now as I stared at the picture in front of me. Those fingers looked exactly like the fingers I had had inside me only a few days ago. I knew that it sounded crazy, and maybe I was just projecting because I hadn’t been able to get the encounter out of my head. But I could have sworn that the photo I was looking at was of Harry. Well, only one way to find out…

The advert has a suggested time and meeting place on it, where submissives would prove their dedication to the man by arriving in clothes that matched his exact specifications- black heels, a black skirt, and a black shirt that they didn’t mind getting ripped open. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. Look, I reasoned with myself, I could just go with the flow even if it’s not Harry, and see where the evening takes me. I have a car; I can leave whenever I want…what’s there to lose? All I had was the memory of a hot night, and the certainty that I wanted it to happen again.

The date on the advert suggested later that day, and I decided to use the last day of my work leave to get ready. I had had a facial, a pedicure and a manicure at the hotel, so I was already looking about as good as I could look with my sweats on and my feet still shoved in sneakers from a run I’d been on earlier. Drawing myself up a bath, I tried to quell the buzz of nerves inside of me, and focus on getting myself looking perfect for whatever the night might hold.

By the time I was ready to leave, I knew that I looked hot. My legs were shaved and lotioned to perfection, my hair clipped up and away from my face as the ad had specified. My clothes were smart and non-descript, but fit the description in the ad perfectly. They also happened to show off my toned legs and generous cleavage to a T, but that was really beside the point, of course.

Pulling on a pair of heels, I made my way out to the car.  The meeting place was outside a hotel in the city, presumably so both of us had the chance to duck out of the encounter if we wanted. I pulled up on the street opposite, about twenty minutes early, and took a few minutes to carefully fix my make-up. On the off chance that it was Harry, I’d be damned if I didn’t look at least as hot as I had when we’d first hooked up. I wanted to blow his mind. I wanted him to blow mine. I tried to push down the swell of excitement that came over me every time I wondered if it was going to be Harry I met this evening.

Finally, I stepped out of the car, clenching the keys in my tense hands as I did so, and walked across to the hotel. Finding a bench a few feet away, I sat down, and looked around, my eyes drawn for someone who looked like he might want to whip me into submission. What did a dominant look like? I had no idea.

I was so lost on my thoughts that I barely noticed when a man actually approached me. I felt a hand on my shoulder, and a voice came from above me.

“Well, fancy seeing you here.”

My heart exploded at the sound of that voice, and I turned to see who it belonged to. And there he was. The man I’d masturbated over every night in my hotel room. The man who had made me come with agonizing intensity only a few days ago. I was right. It was Harry.

I quickly tried to press down my excitement. After all, who knew why he was here? This could all be a coincidence. I tried to maintain my cool, smiling up at him.

“Harry, what are the chances?”

“Considering the fact that I posted that advert in the hopes of catching your attention again? I’d say pretty high.” His eyes flashed at me as I tried to process what he’d said. Even after I’d seen the advert, and that hand, and known in my heart of hearts that it was Harry, I’d tried not to let myself get too hung up on the idea. But here he was, in front of me, wanting me, needing me. He wanted to take things further. I could barely wait.

“Why did you post the ad?” I whispered, my voice struggling to be heard at all through my nerves.

“After I fucked you, I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wanted more. We had such chemistry, unlike anything I’ve had with anyone before and-“ He paused. “I wanted to show you how good it can get with me. How intense it can be.”

I bit my lip, trying to conceal the surge of arousal that his words had caused in me. “I want that too.”

“Are you sure? Because we can go up to my hotel room right now and start out, but I have to warn you, it will be intense. You can stop any time you want. But I promise you, it’ll be better than last time.” His eyes were searching and genuine; he clearly wanted to make sure that this was something that I really wanted. He didn’t want to hurt me, and I appreciated that.

“Harry, I’ve been thinking about you all weekend. I want this. I want to explore this, with you.” I meant it. I had never wanted anything more in my life.

He smiled, widely. “Good. Then follow me.” He picked up a bag he had left on the sidewalk, and stepped into the hotel, holding the door open for me. Leaning in to my ear as I walked by, he whispered, “Your ass looks so good in that skirt. I can’t wait to spank it.”

Smiling to myself, I lowered my head and allowed him to lead me through the hotel, up to some elevators at the back of the room. My head spun. I loved the idea of spending another wanton night in a hotel with Harry, but who knew what this was going to hold?

We stepped into the elevator, and my mind flashed back to what had happened last time we were trapped in this small space together. The thought obviously crossed Harry’s mind too, as I caught him smirking at me. Then he turned to me, serious.

“Roberta, I want you to know that as soon as these doors open, you will be my submissive. You must obey my every command, unquestioningly, from here on out. But don’t forget that you can communicate with me, and that if anything I’m doing is making you uncomfortable, then we’ll stop straight away. Do you understand?” His eyes were serious again, and his words spun around my head. As long as I had the option to get out, I would be fine. And I wanted this- the memory of what we’d been up to only a few nights ago was still fresh in my mind. So I nodded.

“Good. You will address me as Sir for the rest of the evening. Is that clear?” His voice was more clipped now, and I could see him changing in front of me-from kind, sweet, caring Harry to the Harry who wanted to dominate me, to bring him and me ultimate pleasure. His jaw was tougher and his eyes were darker, and I could see he meant business.

“Yes, sir.” I replied, looking back at him.

“Don’t look at me until I give you permission to,” he snapped, and his harsh tone took me by surprise. “As punishment, you will take off your panties, and put them in your mouth.”

My heart lurched. “Here?”

“Are you questioning me?”

“No, sir,” I cast my eyes back down. I couldn’t believe I was going to do this- I was really making a theme of going pantyless in elevators with Harry, and I liked it. Leaning down, I hooked my fingers around my panties and slid them down my legs, just avoiding ripping them on my kitten heels. Standing up, and keeping my eyes to the floor, I slowly pushed the panties into my mouth.

“Good girl.” Harry’s affirmation was all I needed to turn the situation from degrading to super, smoking, ridiculously hot. I could taste my own musky arousal on my panties, as the elevator pinged open and Harry led me down a corridor to his room.

It was a luxurious hotel, and the rooms were no different-expensive lighting, crisp sheets, and lush carpets. It was the sort of place I would want to honeymoon in, but it was soon going to be the first place I lost my sub/dom virginity. The thought was intoxicating. I stood just in front of the door waiting for instruction.

“Undress.” God, Harry sounded so hot when he was ordering me around like that. I couldn’t wait to see what he wanted to do with me once he’d got me naked. Slowly unbuttoning my top, I slipped the clothes I still had on to the floor, and stepped out of them, kicking my heels off as I went. I could feel his eyes burning into me, taking in every inch of my naked form. I felt both powerful and powerless, and it was a strange, brilliant mix.

“You may take the panties out of your mouth now.”

I did as I was told, pulling the panties from between my lips and taking an unfettered gulp of air.

“What do you say?” He prompted. My mind raced for a moment, before I realized what he meant.

“Thank you, sir.”

I could see him out of the corner of my eye, nodding, seemingly satisfied, and the knowledge that I had pleased him sent another rush down to my pussy. I dropped my panties on the floor, watching them land next to my feet.

“Now, kneel down, and put your hands in front of you. Keep your eyes on the ground.”

“Yes, sir.” I did as I was told, placing my hands demurely in front of me. It was odd, as I usually hated being told what to do, but when Harry ordered me around it was crazy-hot. I watched his feet as they stepped towards me, and I saw that he had a tie in his hands- the same one as last time. He bound my wrists again, tightening the knot so that I was trapped where I knelt.

“You may look at me now.”

I raised my eyes to meet his, where he was crouched in front of me.

“Do you like this?” He asked, his voice softer. “Do you like being treated as an object to fulfil my desire?”

“Yes…sir”. I almost forgot his earlier orders, taken aback by the kindness in his voice. I realized how much he wanted me to want this, and how important my desire was to his enjoyment of the scene.

“Good.” He straightened up, back into dominant mode. “Now, I am going to whip you.”

Damn!
I remembered his hand on the cane, and thanked my lucky stars that I was just getting whipped. I had always been into the idea of being hurt as foreplay, but the caning was a little too intense for just yet. I heard him rustling in his bag, and glanced up for a moment to see him produce a long, thin horsewhip. Man, that looked like it would hurt. Harry walked over to me.

“I am going to strike you five times on the ass with this cane. And you will count the blows out loud, thank me, and ask for more. Because this is a gift I am bestowing on you. Do you understand?” He demanded, trailing to tip of the whip from my collarbone over my nipple and towards my belly. The sensation of leather on my skin was new, and fascinating, and I wanted more.

“I understand, sir.”

Without another word, he walked behind me, trailing the leather tip across my bare skin, leaving a trail of electricity wherever he went. My body felt more alive than it had ever felt, every touch causing me to catch my breath and try to focus. This was erotic. This was more erotic than anything I’d ever done before, and we were only just getting started.

Suddenly, the first slap came down on my ass, biting into my skin hard and fast. It left a soft sting, the kind that radiated all over my body in a most agreeable fashion.

“One! Thank you, sir, can I have another?” I managed to gasp out, hoping that I’d done everything right.

“Very good, Roberta.” My names on his lips still did strange, strange things to me, casting a shiver of sheer arousal down my body and making me want to shove him on to the bed and fuck his brains out for days at a time. The next three whips rained down on my pass, leaving long, thin welts of pain that felt like fire against my cool skin.

The fifth slap bit down on me. I whimpered slightly, more in reaction to the intense arousal that was pulsing through me than at the pain of the whip. “Five, sir, can I have another?”