Father’s Day

Author’s note: It’s a long one. And a bit of a change from my usual style. But it’s a part of the story. If you’ve been following along, I encourage you to take the time to read this one. If this is my first poem that you’ve seen, I invite you to begin at the beginning. Either way, I hope you enjoy peeking into my throuple life 💜
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Another
Throuple
holiday.
She and I
did the teamwork
divide and conquer thing
for you
that we do
so well.

We grocery shopped together then went and bought the beer that you like then she left to pick up presents from the kids while I stayed at your house and prepared the meal. It was fun to tell you to “get out of my kitchen” while I cooked.

We had a lovely surf and turf dinner. She sat between us as she always does at the dining room table. I only and always sit between us at the kitchen table.

When things are more formal my place is not next to you but when things are casual I am between the two of you, at your right hand and by her side.

Because it is a special occasion, I graciously allow her to claim her space beside you even though it is me who will be not only next to you but on you, under you and around you later.

It seems to be
an unspoken
compromise
that works
for us.

After dinner, while she and your mom dry the dishes I washed, I give you a foot rub and shoulder rub and whisper in your ear “drive me home tonight so I can give you the rest of your gift.”

You smile and look at the second halfway finished Guinness cocktail in your hand and say “ok I’m a little tired but I can perk up for that.”

Then, about an hour later, you look at me and say “Ready?” and I say “Yes.”

You say “Come on mom. I’ll take you home now” and I hug your wife and she thanks me for everything and I help your mom down the driveway to your car and put her in the front seat and I sit alone in the back seat.

Again,
I know
when to give
other people
their space
beside you.
My time
will
come.

We drop your mom off, water her plants, kiss her good night. She thanks me for being so good to you and your family. You say “yeah Ma, she’s a good girl.” You wink at me as you say it and I blush.

We go back to the car,
I get in the front seat
beside you
where I belong.
You immediately reach
for my hand.
I lean my head
on your shoulder
and sigh.
For the next hour or so,
you
are
mine.

When we get to my house we are barely in the door and you are undoing my jeans pushing them down smacking my ass walking me to my bedroom in a blur of mouths and hands and teeth and tongues.

You push me face down on the bed, unhook my bra with one hand, pull it and my shirt over my head with the other and then my jeans are gone and you’re pulling out the toy box.

I see you reach for the crop and instinctively say “No!” I see the look of disappointment on your face and instantly regret it, but you switch to my favorite flogger and I’m good with that.

You work on me, shoulders to waist and back again and then suddenly and unexpectedly strike much harder and much lower than usual and I shriek and flip over and say “Fuck! Stop!”

You look me dead in the eye and say “Fuck stop is not our safeword”and I scowl and laugh and say “Yellow ok? I need a minute.”

And we take a minute and you check in with me and ask if I’m ok and I say “yes but don’t hit me there again. That’s a no strike zone now.”

So you smirk and say “Ok sweetheart. I’ll hit other places” and arrange me on my back and put my hands next to my head and say “Keep them away from your face” because you know my instinct is to cover my eyes and hide my expressions and reactions from you.

You begin using the flogger to decorate the front of me with welts and stripes and every time I move my hands towards my face you stop and say “No. Arms down.” And the struggle for submissiveness is as hot as the welts that are rising on my skin.

After a while
you stop
and drag me by my legs
to the edge of the bed
and put your mouth
between them
but I cover myself
with my hand.

You glare at me and I quickly say “it’s Father’s Day, let me do something for you now.” And you say, already moving to a comfortable position on my bed “Ok but no biting.”

And I laugh because I’m not sure if you’re referring to the marks I like to leave on your shoulders that you have to hide from your family or the guy I play with sometimes who likes me to chew on his cock.

I crawl
between your legs
and lick you
root to tip
and then
I swirl my tongue
around the head
lick your slit
and slowly
So, so slowly
I suck you
all the way in.

The last time you were in my mouth we were short on time and we did it quick and dirty. This time I intend to make it last.

But it was your day so I let you control it more than I usually do. Let you hold me down and make me choke on it a little bit. Let you control the rhythm. Let you tell me what to do, what you wanted, how you wanted it.

And when you took your hands off my head and groaned and said “make me come.” I happily took over.

I did it my way.

Which is actually your way.

I love knowing what works for you. I love you the sound you make when you get close. And I love that you let me edge you and bring you back over and over again. And I love when you can’t take it anymore and say “C’mon babe!” just a little desperately.

I love having the power to let you suffer on the edge before I finish you. I love the first taste of you on the back of my tongue. I love swallowing every last drop. I love crawling up your body when I’m done, kissing you and letting you taste yourself in my mouth. And I love grinding my pussy on your still hard, so wet and very sensitive cock.

And you let me for a while. And then you say “No, stop, I’m done” and I laugh and say “No stop is not our safeword” and you raise an eyebrow at me and reach for my throat and I stop moving and I say “You are so lucky I love you.”

And you say “Why is that? If you’re gonna make a statement like that you better back it up.” And I laugh and say “Like you don’t know? I take care of you. I give you what you need. I do things for you and with you. I listen to you. You are my best friend. And I’m willing to risk my relationship with my other best friend because I love you.”

And you say
“you’re lucky
I love you too.”
And I say
“I know.”
And you smile
and kiss me
and say
a little sadly
“I should go home.”
And I say
“I know.”
And you say
“Is there anything
you don’t know?”
And I say,
as I walk you
to the door,
“Yes.”

And as you
drive away
from me
to her
I say,
“I don’t know
why
you’re not all
and only
mine.”