Two Houses


I smell like sex, my fingers and my hair and my mouth.  I am rumpled, my skirt wrinkled and askew, my hair a flyaway mess.  I look like I have just been thoroughly fucked.
Because I have been.
I woke up this morning to Ad’s hands on my thighs, kneading them. “Ouch!” I say, when he presses the spot where W landed his cane especially hard yesterday.  He chuckles and moves his hands up to my nipples. “Ouch,” I say again, though less vociferously, because it’s a good pain that is sending warmth into my belly and between my thighs. In fact the “ouch” ends on a moan and I push up into his hand, wanting him to pinch and pull them harder.
He does, and I begin to feel that heavy wetness between my legs, the throbbing ache–
He grabs my hair and wraps it in one hand, then pushes my head down between his thighs.  I think about fibbing to the GirlChild yesterday when I told her that neither he nor W pulls my hair.  I think about the fact that W has pictures to prove otherwise…
“You taste sweet,” I say shortly thereafter, and lean up to kiss him on the mouth.  I love that he doesn’t cringe away from me when I do this.  He doesn’t want a mouthful of his own ejaculate, but he likes that I am just perverted enough to want to kiss him tasting like his semen.  Just like I enjoyed licking my own juices off W’s cock yesterday, laying on the hard wooden floor of his upstairs room, after he’d tied me and caned me.  I don’t like the taste so much of the other thing he made do, but I absolutely love that he made me do it.
I get up to use the restroom, and when I come back, Ad is letting the dog out. I am hot, and wet; excited still.  I crawl back into bed and spread my legs. My rings have finally truly healed, and they are slick with my moisture. But I want it hard and fast, before Ad gets back, so I get Baldy out.  Because I hate getting caught masturbating.  Not that it’s getting caught–he doesn’t care, and would most likely crawl into bed and help me out, but still.
For some reason my mind goes to the rope W tied around my neck yesterday…to him leading me like a dog by it…then forcing me to suck his cock with the rope tightening every time I lower my head to him, my hands tied to it behind my back.
Back in my own bedroom, as I start to come (it takes like zero seconds) I see an image of myself face down over the edge of a bed, legs and pussy lips spread open, rings glinting, an anonymous cock shoving in and out between them, and W’s hand on my face, holding my head still so I can’t look around to see who it is that is fucking me.
I cry out with my orgasm, and Ad walks in at that moment and stands there grinning, looking down at me.  I turn red and embarrassed and try to stifle the orgasm but he climbs into bed with me and I can’t stop coming as he pushes Baldy down between my legs and rocks me gently, back and forth, making me ride the crest of multiple, spiky orgasms.
And then I am on my way to work.  I have to stop at W’s first because I left my laptop there the day before.  I let myself in and take off my boots, then slip upstairs to climb into bed with him and say good morning.  He turns to me sleepily and when I comment on my cold hands and his warmth he tells me I need to put them in a better place to warm them and when I do I find him already hard, waiting for my touch. Not like the last time I did this, when he didn’t expect me and slept right through me coming up the stairs and into his bed and when I curled my hands around his cock it was warm and soft and only slowly woke to my touch.
He is already hard now, though, and grows harder as I stroke him. “I didn’t wear panties today,” I tell him, thinking ‘I forgot,’ but knowing it was deliberate. And he rolls over on top of me and pushes between my rings, and this time as he begins to fuck me, slowly, deeply, then faster, grinding the rings against me, this time I am thinking of Ad’s cock in my mouth earlier and his hand on the back of my head, shoving my mouth down on him, making me gag and then, with a cry, filling my mouth with his hot, milky semen. And I come again, shuddering against W as I do, his cock inside my cunt and Ad’s inside my head.
And when I get to work I press the spot on my thigh where W caned me, and I grind my rings against my chair, and I leave my hair in the wild curly mess it is in and I smell W on my fingers and taste Ad on my breath, and I smile.

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