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"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely over a whisper. She was aware of Geoff watching them, a potent, silent regard.
Taking the glass from her hand, Chris raised it to his lips and drank a few swallows. She reached up to glide her fingers down his throat, but his hand closed over her wrist before she could touch him. He kept that hold on her until he'd emptied half the glass and set it aside on the counter.
Stretching out his other long arm, he opened the drawer where they kept the kitchen towels. He pulled out two and dropped them on the floor, one overlapping the other. Then he put downward pressure on her arm, telling her what he wanted, his brown eyes holding hers in a lock.
Sam sank to her knees on the cushion he'd provided, wondering if he realized his act of caring, providing her a cushion for her knees, combined with the demanding clamp on her wrist, sent her the very arousing message that he was in control. Had it been driven by his own desires as much as her own? She hoped so.
Opening his pants, he reached inside them and adjusted himself before pushing the jeans and boxers to his thighs so his heavy cock could spring free. She inhaled the salt-and-sweat male scent of him.
Threading his fingers deeper into the fine strands of her hair, he twisted them into a tail. Gripping it in one hand against the back of her skull, he brought her forward, directing her to put her mouth over the ruddy head of his cock.
She parted her lips, sliding her fingers around him as she tasted the tip and slid down even farther. She smelled earth, heat and Chris, a heady combination.
A scrape told her Geoff had come into the kitchen. Chris had thought of her knees and Geoff had thought of Chris. He'd brought one of the chairs closer so Chris would be able to sink into it if he decided he wanted that support. She spread her fingers over Chris's pubic area, the unexpectedly soft skin below the layer of hair. Curling her fingers around his base again, she tightened, released and stroked.
If he sat down in the chair, would he eventually bring her to her feet, turn her around
and impale her on his cock? Geoff had forbidden actual sex to give her sensitive tissues time to recuperate, and Chris would hold to that, no matter how aroused her mouth made him. But maybe another time. She shivered, thinking of herself on his lap, her pussy full of his cock while he used a flat palm between her shoulder blades to fold her over her knees. He'd grip her hip in his other big hand and work her on him. Geoff would stand in front of her, curl his fingers in her hair and feed his cock between her lips.
For all her fantasies, Geoff and Chris didn't really need any input to bring her to an insane level of ecstasy. Geoff shifted behind her, his feet planted on either side of her ankles. His fingertips slid over her shoulder and she heard him opening his jeans. A slow, measured breath, followed by a slight, rhythmic rock of his feet against hers, made her realize he was masturbating while watching the two of them. Arousal bolted through her core, and it affected Chris as well. A glance up showed him divided between looking at her going down on his cock, and at the man behind her, stroking his own.
Geoff moved closer, straddling her calves. With Chris still holding her hair in a twist on the back of her head, Geoff slid his cock along the line of her spine, leaving a thin track of wetness from the slit. She whimpered against Chris's cock, digging the fingers of her free hand into his thigh. It was already quivering, thanks to her ministrations and how worked up he'd been before they even started. Chris sat down in the chair and readjusted, which pushed him into the back of her throat in an even more demanding way.
She curled herself over him, sucking and licking, all while gripping him with her hand.
"All pretty and soft," Chris muttered. "So clean and sweet."
She played her tongue along the sensitive corona. His hand convulsed against her skull.
"All ours, hmm?" Geoff prompted in the same low voice.
"Hell yeah." Chris's hand convulsed, either in reaction to the words or the stimulation, or some of both. "Fuck . . . oh fuck . . ."
Triumph roared through her at how quickly she'd been able to bring him to that crest, though it had probably been expedited by all the stimulation that had started at the sink and built from there. Chris's hips lifted off the chair, his cock shoving deeper into her mouth. He pulled her hair hard against her scalp, his powerful body rocking the chair and making it squeak in protest against the joints. She could still feel the heat and shift of Geoff's body behind her as he masturbated, watching them both.
She swallowed the salty taste and kept moving with Chris, trying to anticipate everything that would make the experience even better for him. Since his hand kept flexing on her head, his own tipped back, body trembling with multiple waves of release, she thought she was succeeding. She continued to lick at him greedily, suck and nip, as he groaned again. His soft, reverent curses included her name. She loved it. She loved him.
When at last Chris finished, Geoff took her back to her heels, stroking her head with approval. In her current euphoric state, she went with impulse, dipping her head to press her lips against his knuckles before he drew away. "Sweet girl," Geoff murmured. "Good sub. You did good. Up off your heels, Samantha Beth. Put your hands on Chris's thighs."
Despite the praise, when she dared a glance at him, his expression was stern and unyielding, matching the tone of the command. She obeyed, catching her lip in her teeth as he dropped to a squat and reached between her legs to push his fingers into her still-wet cunt. Chris curled his hands around her biceps to steady her as Geoff explored. He moved with care, yet did a thorough caress of her channel before he withdrew.
Turning her head, she saw him rubbing his glistening fingers over his erection again. She quivered as he met her gaze and pushed his fingers inside her to do it again. Then a third time. Chris was watching, his mouth slack and sexy, brown eyes a little dazed from his own climax.
After the third time, Geoff extended his hand to Chris. "Get up."
Wow, Geoff didn't believe in waiting. He was going to take Chris's place in the chair and have her go down on him right away. Chris sent him an odd look, but he lifted a shoulder, a Fair is fair kind of gesture. Geoff had graciously allowed him to go first, after all.
Chris clasped Geoff's hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. He started to hike up his pants and move away from the chair so Geoff could take it. That was when Geoff showed he had something else in mind.
She gasped as Geoff hooked Chris's ankle and spun him toward and down onto the table. The smooth, decisive move left Chris with his chest flat against the surface, one arm curved behind his back in Geoff's sure grasp, his pants and underwear still bunched at his thighs. As Chris reflexively began to push up with his other hand, the wrist hold kept him right where Geoff wanted him.
"Grab the edge of the table with your free hand," Geoff ordered. His hazel eyes met Sam's. "You think you're the only one who's stared at the yard boy and wanted his ass?"
"No sir."
Geoff's eyes went warrior fierce, responding to the address. Chris looked suddenly tense, his gaze moving from her face back to the tabletop. She thought he wasn't sure about Geoff taking him over like this, how it looked in front of her. He didn't seem entirely averse to it, just uncertain if he should be struggling against it. That told her what to do.
Scooting around the table, still on her knees, she put her fingertips on the edge of the table where she guessed his would end up if he decided to obey Geoff. She gave him a hopeful look, and he brought his arm forward slowly, overlapping one of her hands with his own.
