The girls were sat on a blanket, back to back; naked, save their panties. The black blanket was laid neatly on the somewhat dusty hardwood floor. I knelt in front of Margot and Hector knelt in front of Betty. The rope was around both of their pretty necks. Looped and looped around and around. Their hands tied at their sides, their backs held straight out of either eagerness to please or suspense at what might happen next.
The jigsaw jumble of intentions and desires was so thick and confusing that listing them alone would take up a whole story. The young girl, Betty, was such a pretty thing: ridiculously buxom, deliciously pouting and so stylish she seemed fashionable even in nothing but cotton underwear. Her boyfriend Hector, the rigger, was serious and capable with hands of a carpenter, masculine grace, economy of movement. Then there was Margot, brilliant eyes that were always communicating with me. Classy in a way I’d never known up close. Artist, model, dancer, character.
Hours before we were drinking bourbon in a dark bar; Betty flirting with me, Hector with Margot, Margot and me, Margot with Betty. Hector and Betty had been a couple for a while and sadly were relatively straight; but Betty was greedy enough not to be that particular about things, plus she loved eyes on her. Hector was greedy enough to put up with me as long as he got more skin to touch, more hands to bind, more girls to hurt and kiss.
Margot and I were peas in a pod. Whispering plans to each other between kisses. It was going to be two-on-two, perhaps three-on-one? We had hours to play and few real rules had been discussed. We were shaking in our seats with anticipation as well as pride in ourselves for facilitating this whole thing.
In the apartment I tied Margot to a small table. Bound tightly, her legs fastened to the table legs, her arms at her sides so she couldn’t move. Betty got strung up from a thick beam that ran across the ceiling. One girl bound down, one hovering over her. The stockings had been ripped and the hair was a mess. Looking from girl to girl was like looking at presents under the tree. What to open first?
As Betty dangled above her, each of Margot’s nipples were pinched with metal clamps, which were connect to chains which into turn were connected to clamps that were attached to Betty’s nipples. Then, Margot’s hair was tied up with a rope that was then attached to the ceiling so that any movement of her neck caused her scalp to throb. The whole thing looked like some bizarre art project, the mostly naked girls twisting this way and that, letting out little gasps and whines as they felt the pain in their nipples and hair that happened every time they got too far from each other. It was lovely, one of the most interesting things I’ve been a part of, but the girls couldn’t last very long like that and soon we had to bring them down.
Once down we played on the floor for a bit. They were still half tied up so we pulled them by the rope this way or that. Breasts smacked, asses spanked, mostly Hector and I focusing on our partners, but occasionally switching girls. The four of us wrestling on the floor. Blankets thrown over us as we laughed and played.
The girls teased Hector because he wouldn’t strip. Margot’s eyes caught mine as I tried to defuse the bit of tension. I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but at the same time I was desperate to see more of the girls. Betty was whining for more, more hands on her, more attention. In those moments when the four of us were under the covers my hand found its way to her leg and she grabbed it and slipped it between her thighs.
Even in the openness and the fact that this wasn’t out of bounds, there was a little secret there, under the covers. My fingers slipping into somehow forbidden wetness.
When Hector had the two of them sit up, back to back, I wasn’t sure what they were going to do. I watched as he coiled the rope around their necks and I swallowed hard. This was danger. This was not something I would have done. He was very skilled though. The three of them had played these kinds of games before.
When I pulled Margot forward and kissed her I heard the squeaks and groans of Betty as her air was cut off. Margo’s eyes went far away too. When I pushed her back Betty gasped for air, then Margo heaved a long breath. Back and forth, Hector pulled, then I did. Sighs and groans and occasional coughing. We kissed and pinched and smacked and played with the girls as they became like rag dolls between us, glassy-eyed and limp-limbed.
I tried to be bold, look casual, but the worry rose and fell inside of me with the tidal push and pull of the two of them. Margot looked beautiful, red cheeked, red lipped, fainting then popping back up. When I fingered her she seemed unsure what sensation to focus on, what direction she needed to move to get away.
After tense minutes like this Hector thought the two girls had enough and gave me a look that meant we should release them. We took them out and rubbed their sore necks and kissed and cuddled them on the floor. Sighs and smiles abounded. The little tribulations forgotten, the miscommunications insignificant compared to the heat of it all.
In the middle of the night we let the other couple leave and finally found our way to bed, trying to summon enough energy to finish all the things the day had started.If you liked this story you can send me a tip via paypal.me/writingdirty