What Woke the Beast

beasts

Saturday night I had a foursome with Gentleman Friend, the Wifey, and her Dom. We started in the kitchen, sharing drinks and dirty stories, then moved to the living room with its enormous leather sectional and wood-burning fireplace. We sat in front of the fire, surrounded by furry blankets, and then the touching started. I wanted to see the wifey’s undergarments, so I pulled her dress right up and admired their sheer, lacy pinkness. I ran my hand up the seam in her stockings, and before I knew it my dress was in a pile on the floor and I was left in my thigh highs and red bra.

Gentleman Friend fingered me and made me come, and the Dom put his cock in my mouth, calling me “good girl.” We all went upstairs.

His bedroom. My god. It was a circle and reminded me of a turret. The bathroom is separated from the main room by a glass half-wall and has a soaker tub with jets, and the bedroom itself is heated by yet another wood-burning fireplace. A leather couch faces the fireplace, and there is a giant bed in the middle of the room.

But its most impressive feature is the spiral staircase that leads to a look-out –a circular catwalk with 360 degree windows, a telescope, and railings all around–perfect for tying someone up. Which we did.

The Wifey has been needing a beating, so I helped the Dom tie her up, and he handed me different implements to torture her with. Yummy.

After we untied her, we crawled onto the bed, and they pulled out an 18 inch double sided dildo. I lubed it up, and slid it inside the Wifey’s pussy. She gasped as she took it, and then I slid my end inside me. It was very thick, and I had to take more and more of it gradually. But we were both moaning, panting and gushing. Fucking each other.

“Lady!!!,” she screamed on the edge of an orgasm. “You are better than Sugar Daddy!!!” [random editorial aside: she is not seeing him anymore either. same reasons.]

I laughed. “Thanks, I’ll tell him you said so.”

We screwed, and the men watched until they decided they wanted a piece of that action. Then I got on my back, and Gentleman Friend fucked me, while the Dom fucked wifey, who was straddling my face. I alternated between licking her pussy and fingering her, though it was a little hard to concentrate while getting the hell fucked out of me!

I gushed. I gushed so hard that Gentleman Friend cupped it in his hands and spilled it down The Wifey’s back. No idea how he managed that, but she was absolutely dripping. I screamed, gripping the sheets and writhing.

The Wifey needed a break so Gentleman Friend cuddled with her, while I fucked the Dom. He put his hands around my throat and Gentleman Friend told him I like being choked hard, so he tightened his grip. Perfect. 

I came again, and then we all went and sat by the fireplace. I noticed that there were big windows looking out into the street and went and stood in one, naked. They teased me for being such an exhibitionist, then The Dom started to finger me and I came again. I almost slid down against his cock, which was hard again, until he said “Are you okay without protection?”

Shit. “No, no I am not. Nor am I sober,” I laughed.

Gentleman Friend went and grabbed us a condom cause he’s helpful like that, and I tried to get him in me again but no cigar. “I think I’m swollen shut,” I apologized.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, taking me over to the bed. And he fucked me. He fucked me hard until I was a screaming, sobbing mess.

“How is she not dead?,” asked Wifey from across the room. I guess this was the first time that either of them had seen how long and hard I can go.

“You’re gonna sit on my face,” said the Dom. “And I’m gonna make you squirt.”

He ate me out and fingered me, and ordered the Wifey to come over and take care of his cock while I rode his face. I knew he wanted me to squirt but was honestly pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to again. . .and then he hit my g-spot, and I drowned him, just like he wanted.

Then I took a cold beer bottle and held it against my pussy, because I was so thoroughly fucked I couldn’t take anymore.

I made too much noise and I caused too many tremors. I woke the beast, and I can’t get it to go back to sleep.

 


Daddy’s Girls

Daddy’s girls are all out of sorts.

Yoga Girl, Daddy’s lover, is concerned that it has now gone from her two times a week and The Girlfriend once a month, plus assorted randoms, to three women all living in the same city, loving the same man.

The Girlfriend is concerned that we might try to usurp her place as Daddy’s primary relationship.

And I am (less now, but still) worried that he will not have time for me.

Poor Daddy. He has told Yoga Girl that at least now there will be no more random sex–he has his hands more than full with the three of us. He has assured The Girlfriend that Yoga Girl and I are both married with children and are not looking for a primary partner. And for me, he just keeps telling/showing me how much he cares for me.

“You know I don’t enjoy whipping you with the riding crop more than once or twice,” he said. “After that, it’s just punishment. You asked me to help you quit smoking. Trust me, as much as getting whipped hurts, it’s not as bad as cancer.”

And then later that night:

“You know I really do care about you, right?”

“I know, Daddy.”

“I want you to have a happy home life, and I want you to have a happy slut-life.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

 

I imagine Daddy is under a lot of stress. I told him tonight, after him giving me advice on how to help my husband break into Daddy’s industry, as well as promising to make some calls to industry friends in the morning on Hubby’s behalf, that I wanted to be friends with his other girls.

“I just think we should be friends,” I said. “As naive as this might be, they’re my sister wives. We should all get to know each other.”

Daddy agreed. The Girlfriend is hesitant but willing–she says she just needs to be eased into it. Yoga Girl wants to meet–whether we play together or not, she feels the way I do. I am trying not to get my hopes up too high. I have no idea what either of these other women are like. But we all love Daddy and Daddy loves us (though they are not his baby girls–we all have unique roles in his life), and I would love to at least try to see if we can be friends. Part of me–the young, hopeful part, buried deep down inside–feels like this could be the start of the poly family I’ve always wanted. Whether I become sexually involved with the other two or not, we should at least all be able to spend time together.

We’ll see.