Judgement Day

[Un****]

The engine idled as he sat in his car. The radio was on, and he listened to ‘The Cure’ as the wipers went from side to side, sometimes in rhythm, sometimes not. Much like himself, he thought, distractedly. Sometimes he got things just right, other times he really fucked things up. He was rather afraid he’d just fucked things up earlier. Viciously he ripped the cellophane off a new pack of cigarettes and lit one as Robert Smith told him that he didn’t care if Monday was black, as Friday was when he was in love. Stupid song, really. He was in love with his girl all the time, but maybe this time he’d gone too far. Damn the responsibility.

 

Most of the time he enjoyed it. It was his responsibility that provided the challenge. What scenes could he dream up? What surprises could he imagine, and then implement? It made for interesting times, as the Chinese proverb said. But it was a lonely place sometimes. He’d often wondered: was it easier being the sub? Oh he knew all about the enduring and the suffering blah de blah, and sure they had that to deal with. Giving up control had its price. He grinned, remembering earlier. But, the act of providing the context, the weight of all that ‘listening’, and frankly, on occasion, the emotional fallout… well, it was hard to bear sometimes. He sighed as he exhaled and the smoke whirled a little as the car heater blew it around the front seats. Add to the equation the cruel and hugely enjoyable emotional manipulation he enjoyed and, well, it wasn’t surprising he trod a fine line sometimes. He wasn’t sure how long it would be this time before he was forgiven. He trusted her. He trusted that she’d know what he’d done was for them both. Still, he reasoned, once he twisted the emotional knife, it was only natural there’d be some metaphorical cuts.

He was pretty sure he’d get the silent treatment for a while.

He wondered if they were talking to each other, back in the house, where he’d left them.  Sometimes he questioned his judgement. That was only natural though. He stubbed his cigarette into the car’s ashtray. ***y subs.

It had taken a deal of planning too. And there’d been no guarantee it would work. It had possibly worked too well.

He’d introduced the idea of a threesome some time back. Hardly a new or even original idea, but he prided himself somewhat on the details, and this was going to be no different.

It would be easy to find some bisexual female, and even though his girl was straight, she was adventurous. Bring it on.

 

At least he hadn’t had to advertise. A few well-placed questions and he knew where he should look. She worked as a barmaid in a local hotel and it had been easy to pop in now and then over the course of a few weeks. Naturally, at first she’d been polite, but distant. God knows how many men hit on her as she worked through her various shifts. But he’d played it cool, been polite himself, flirted a little. He’d had nothing to lose after all – it was either going to work or it wasn’t, but the early indications were good. And, given that he had inside information, it was easy to drop casual comments, discover apparently spontaneous mutual interests.

 

His girl hadn’t been suspicious either, which helped. His working hours were not only sporadic but undefined, so the odd late evening home hadn’t aroused any curiosity.

 

He waited for the right moment. There was always ‘a right moment’. You just had to be patient, and then take the opportunity. Hesitation was when you lost out. It had come about three weeks back, when, after she’d cleaned up and was preparing to go home, he’d offered her a lift. She’d done the obvious, and refused, which was what he expected. He’d made a joke out of the situation and told her she could talk to her friend on her mobile the whole journey if it would make her feel safer. She hadn’t of course, and the fact she didn’t drive, and had a ten minute walk in the pouring rain had clinched it. He’d been a gentleman, dropped her home, and left. It was all in the planning. He hoped his girl would remember that. These things didn’t happen if you didn’t put the work in.

 

After that he’d made sure he was around when the weather was awful, and her shift had coincided. The lift home had become standard, and when he’d finally invited her for a drink, she’d said yes. She wasn’t bad looking, which helped, although frankly, that had been secondary.

 

Inevitably they’d talked about their personal situations and again, he’d been honest. He’d explained he had a girlfriend, and hinted that their relationship was… unusual. Another point at which it could have all fallen apart, but it hadn’t. She’d been curious, then intrigued, and even slightly more flirty. The most awkward point was when she’d asked to see a picture, but he’d assumed that she would and had gotten away with not showing a picture of his girl’s face, explaining that she was local too and it was hardly fair to her to potentially embarrass her. But he had pictures of her lying on the beach, and even one or two erotic pictures on his mobile of her ass, and her tits, which he’d been happy to share. She’d been complimentary. A good sign. She was single too. So he’d taken the plunge. A threesome? She’d laughed, outraged but smiling, and refused. He let it drop and they finished their drinks. He dropped her home. For a week he hadn’t gone to the hotel, and then, on a cold and rainy evening, he’d made an appearance. When she asked what he wanted to drink, he’d replied, smiling, ‘you,’ and then had a whisky.  Their eyes were looking for each other all night and he knew he had her.

Which brought him to tonight. His girl had been curious, excited but nervous. There was no question of her not agreeing though. He’d known that from the start. She was his good girl, his princess, but more than that, she loved sex. He grinned at the memory. It would be her downfall one day. He hoped it wasn’t his as a result.

He’d arranged to pick the girl up from the hotel after her shift finished. She’d been giggly, nervous, and admitted she’d had one or two drinks through the evening, where normally she wouldn’t. He’d laughed and said it was to be expected. He’d left his girl gagged, and blindfolded, explaining that her senses would be heightened and like the trusting fool she was, she’d been eager to comply. He’d deliberately not said much to ‘hotel-girl’ trusting, correctly, that once her expectations were in place, she’d go along with his suggestions. So… when he’d smilingly told her as they pulled up at the house, that he wanted her blindfolded and gagged too, she’d just laughed and asked him if he had an axe. Funny. And not at all what he was interested in.

It had gone beautifully.

The moment when they were both naked, waiting, as he looked at them both, standing between them, had been sublime. Their breathing, made louder by the gags they wore, had been a subtle music, a soundtrack he would never forget.

‘You’re so beautiful.’

He’d made sure his girl knew he wasn’t talking to her.

Manoeuvring ‘hotel-girl’ closer to his princess he’d watched as they, hesitatingly at first, touched each other, then, as lust and sexual drive woke them, become more intimate, stroking, kneading, moaning and moving down to the floor. He’d let them explore each other, let them come together, then focusing on their ‘guest’, he’d moved her apart and fucked her hard, thrusting into her deeply, even risking over-playing his pleasure as he told her how gorgeous she was, how she was wetter than his girlfriend, more sexy, wilder, what he’d been looking for and hadn’t known he’d needed. Just as he was going to come, he’d withdrawn, and, turning to his princess, had ***d his cock into her mouth, thrusting deeply into her throat so that she swallowed his orgasm, his taste mingling with the woman he’d been fucking.

Then, the moment of truth.

First he’d removed the gags on them both, and, all three in intimate embraces…

‘Did you enjoy that?’

Silence from his princess. Understandable. He’d taken ***s to ensure she knew he’d enjoyed the other woman.

‘Yes’ – said simply, whispered, even hopeful, from their house guest.

Then he’d removed their blindfolds. He didn’t know what he’d expected really. Horror, shouting, curses, even blows, from one if not the other. Their silence was slightly un-nerving. They’d just gazed at each other. He could see both of them re-living the experience.

Taking his cue from the stillness, he’d gone outside. And now here he was, in his car, lighting another cigarette, before going back to face the music. He hoped his princess would still be there. Emotional fallout. It had taken a deal of planning. You could never tell. ***s were so competitive on occasion. Or close-knit. Well, *** was thicker than water, he supposed.

 

On the radio, *** Sledge were singing ‘We Are Family’…

Right on cue.

[Deleted Member]

Good story - though I would’ve been pissed to see it was my *** 😂

[Un****]

On 11/16/2020 at 4:53 PM, little_sunshine said:

Good story - though I would’ve been pissed to see it was my *** 😂

Yes, the twist is rather.... twisted 🤣

[Deleted Member]

A little yes lol but still well written

[Un****]

2 hours ago, little_sunshine said:

A little yes lol but still well written

Thank you. I mean, I thought so... obviously 😋

[JessieMay]

Great story. I like the twisted way your mind works....😏