Only Consenting Adults Ch. 08

[Author's note: Ever since they shunned her wedding (M06), Jen has struggled to come to terms with her parents' rejection of her bisexuality and polyamory. Now, with her husband and wife by her side, she's determined to make her father see her for who she really is.]

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A LEGACY OF PAPER OR BLOOD

Henry surfaced from sleep, spread out on his back in his bed, frowning. Something had roused him from deep within a dream, and his muddled thoughts stubbornly refused to organise themselves in his head. He opened his eyes, staring up at the familiar, white ceiling, then felt it again, a soft touch between his legs. Looking down the length of his body, he could see a shape beneath the rumpled sheets. A contact again, soft, enticing, brushing against the skin of his manhood, stirring him from slumber.

He lifted the sheets. A tangle of blonde hair nestled between his legs, moving now, revealing a pair of wide hazel eyes looking up at him, and the flash of a smile. As he watched, the lips pursed and caressed his engorging manhood.

"Finally, awake at last."

"Morning Jen."

Jen parted her lips, nuzzling into his crotch. He felt her take the tip of his cock into her mouth, sucking gently. Henry responded to her delicate, unhurried ministrations, coming erect under the exquisite attentions of her gorgeous lips. Satisfied with his progress, she pulled off him with a wet popping sound.

"Have I got your attention, sir?"

Jen clawed her blonde hair to one side, revealing the curve of her cheek. She smiled up at him, cheeks dimpling in a delectable, sexy way. Just seeing the way she smiled as she looked up at him was enough. Henry was rigid now. Carefully, Jen began to bestow tiny kisses on the underside of his shaft, working down to his root. He felt her tongue explore his scrotum, before its tip wormed its way back up his shaft, burrowing into the tiny, exquisitely sensitive ridge between his shaft and his swollen purple head.

Henry's mouth went dry, his eyes fixed on his beautiful, naked partner, as she pursed her lips together on the very tip of his cock, sending little tremors of pleasure down his shaft and deep into his core. He glimpsed the collar, still wrapped firmly around her graceful neck. She looked up at him, her eyes teasing now, paused at his tip. There was the faintest curve of a smile on her lips, and then she pressed down, sucking his engorged manhood entirely into her mouth, making Henry shudder with delight.

In another room, a baby cried out. Henry screwed his eyes tight, trying to concentrate on the feeling of Jen's tongue as it brushed down the underside of his cock, deep inside her mouth. She sucked, applying just the right amount of pressure, making swallowing motions in her throat, massaging his tip as she opened herself up to take him deeper. A low moan escaped Henry's throat.

There was another cry. Henry's eyes sprang open, looking from the utterly erotic vision of Jen taking him deep into her throat, to his partially-open bedroom door. Another cry, then footsteps.

"Don't worry," called a female voice, "I've got her. You just keep sucking."

Henry smiled to himself, detecting a faint note of sarcasm in Anya's tone. He heard footsteps padding into the distance and the rattle of the cot in the next room. None of this had bothered Jen in the slightest. She pulled up off him, grinning, before enveloping him again. He felt the suction and twitched, feeling the beginnings of a familiar sensation. Jen popped off his tip.

"Am I pleasing you, sir?"

The sly grin belied her deferential tone.

"Uh, yeah. What a way to wake up."

"I thought you might like it."

"You still horny, after last night?"

In answer, Jen plunged down onto him again, more forcefully now, sucking harder, making him shudder as the delightful sensations rippled through him.

He'd spoken to Anya at length after the scene on the pillar, and they'd both decided to put Jen into denial. It had seemed a good way to take her mind off her family, giving her something else to focus on, something that she liked. It had also seemed to smooth the waters between Anya and Jen after Moran's escapade on the news, the two women falling back into the normal cadence of their lives, with Anya able to take the lead and Jen able to follow, both of them seeming to relish the idea of reassuming the natural order of their relationship.

It had been Henry's turn to take her to bed, making her service his needs twice before settling her down to sleep, curled up against him, her body trembling with unrequited desire even as he had laid on his back, comfortably sated. He'd worked her hard, edging her to the brink half a dozen times, then leaving her to cope with her denied body while he drifted off to sleep. Anya had done the same to her the night before. It felt like old times, like the friction and the unpleasant words were behind them, or at least partitioned off from their day-to-day lives, a problem waiting for the right time to be addressed.

He watched Jen's head, the blonde hair in glorious disarray, as she bobbed up and down firmly on his erection. He could see how aroused this was making her, servicing him while receiving no attention herself, feeding her submissive need for control. Slowly, under her onslaught he was building up a deep, tight pressure in his loins as she licked and sucked his head. Jen was in no hurry, feeling him twitch and strain as she elevated his pleasure, toying with him now, bringing him close to the brink.

She looked up at him, eyes wide, no longer playing. He could see how much she needed this, to give him pleasure, the little secret that he and Anya shared with Jen about herself, the flipside to the sassy, smart, force of nature that she could be out in the world. Jen pulled back, concentrating on the very tip of his cock, her lips over his swollen head, her tongue within exploring his delicate, sensitive underside, sending little jolts of electricity deep into his balls, making him clench.

Sensing this, Jen became more delicate, until Henry was throbbing, until all he could bear to think about was her soft, gorgeous lips wrapping tightly around him and sucking hard, pushing him over the brink into an explosive orgasm. Instead, she held him there, toying with his tip, reading each twitch and quiver expertly, the submissive controlling her master. He stared down into her eyes as she looked up at him, locked in a strange battle of wills, needing to cum, but restraining himself from reaching down and pushing her head onto him. He wanted to cradle her face in his hands, gripping her soft cheeks, and fuck her face. With a supreme effort of will, he resisted the urge.

Jen closed her eyes, moaning softly, the tremors of her voice vibrating down his shaft. She plunged down onto him, taking him entirely, raising up, repeating the motion, building up a relentless cadence. Henry called out, a deep guttural groan. He felt the orgasm welling up now, implacably, cresting as she slid his aching cock between her lips. Deep within, his core clenched in reaction to the wonderful pleasure of her lips around his cock and as she embedded his head in the back of her mouth, he erupted, sending streams of cum into her throat.

Jen retched, her cheeks ballooning, but she maintained the seal, her lips wrapped firmly around his shaft. He felt her throat undulate as she swallowed, taking his seed into her belly. She applied suction, massaging his cock to greater exertions, milking him until he was done. At last, she slid off him with a wet, smacking sound and sat up, letting the sheets tumble down behind her.

Henry looked up at Jen, her cheeks slick with moisture, her lips pursed together, her eyes shining. She swallowed again, then opened her mouth to show him, kneeling between his legs, her full, firm breasts nestled between her elbows. He took in the view of her naked body, from the black leather collar around her neck, to the way her nipples stood full and firm on her chest, down to the ripening curve of her belly and finally to the polished, bare pussy, gleaming with her own unrequited excitement.

"Good girl," he breathed.

Jen smiled.

"Come here."

Henry held a hand out, and Jen snuggled up against him, skin to skin. In the early days of their relationship, she would squirm with her unsatisfied arousal, but now, Jen seemed to relish the contact between them, folding herself into his body, pressing her hot, wet, needy crotch against his thigh.

"That was a nice way to wake up," Henry told her.

"Better than breakfast in bed?"

"Much."

Jen's face nuzzled into his neck as he enfolded her in his arms.

"I guess you really need it?" he asked.

"No, sir."

"No? Sure?"

"You haven't told me I've earned it."

Henry laughed.

"But you're so horny, aren't you?"

Jen nodded.

"All the time at the moment," he continued.

"It's the hormones," Jen conceded, "It's worse than a week of denial."

"So, you do need it."

"No, sir. You haven't said I've earned it."

Henry stroked her hair, staring up at the ceiling. This was Jen's way of making it clear to him that she desperately needed it, that she wanted him to tell her she was a good girl, that she'd earned her release. But he knew this wasn't how it worked, and so did she. It worked because Jen knew she had no power, no leverage. Cajoling and hinting wouldn't get results; both her partners were skilled in the art of pushing her to the edge and then extending the terms of the denial, unilaterally, forcing her to accept their decision. Henry knew that he needed to be firm.

He slapped her playfully on her luscious, bare bottom.

"Need to pee," he grunted, rolling away from her.

He got up, taking one last look over his shoulder at Jen's perfect, naked body, then headed into the hallway to the bathroom. It was a concession he'd made on the day that they first saw the house, that Anya would have the bedroom with the ensuite, relegating himself voluntarily to the main bathroom, the one that would become littered with kids toys and cartoon character toothbrushes. He'd have to be clothed, though. Walking around the house naked was okay for now, but those days were drawing to a close. He sighed: so be it.

Leaving the bathroom, he ducked back to his bedroom to slide on a pair of shorts. Jen was curled up in the sheets, dozing. He left her in peace and went to find Anya. The kitchen was empty, and so was the nursery, so he wandered through the living area until he saw a figure sitting on the wicker armchair outside on the patio.

"Hey, morning," he called out.

Anya looked up. "Managed to escape?"

"Yeah, barely."

"You're so brave."

She smiled at him, then turned her attention back to the multicoloured rug at her feet. Wobbling around on it, their daughter was reaching for chew toys and gurgling to herself.

"Millie's not the only one with an oral fixation," Anya observed, "I thought I'd bring her out here so as not to disturb you."

"Thank you."

Anya reached out and Henry leaned over to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Want breakfast?"

Anya shook her head, indicating an empty plate scattered with crumbs. "I had some toast."

"Toast, coffee too?" Henry replied, seeing the mug.

"Yeah, and daughter."

"Wow, that's superhuman."

"I'll be leaping tall buildings later, if you want to watch."

Henry squatted down over his daughter. "Tag team?" he said.

"Which way?" Anya asked.

"Uh, what do you mean?"

"I mean, are you tagging me out of child minding? Or are you tagging yourself out of Jen minding?"

Henry laughed. "Don't ever let her hear you say that."

"Shit no. What with those raging hormones at the moment, there's no telling what she'd do."

Anya got up, laying a hand on Henry's shoulder. She gave him a quick squeeze and went into the house, leaving him alone in the early morning sunshine with his daughter.

---

Later, after he'd managed to get Millie down for her nap, Henry crept quietly out of the nursery, stopping at the door. The whole house was silent now, and the lack of disturbance in itself seemed strange. Living with two women and a baby, and another one on the way, it felt like a very different life to just two years ago. He'd had fewer and fewer moments to himself, but then, they all did. They'd all made the same choice, even Jen. The headstrong, independent woman he'd first fallen in love with, the one least likely to want to settle down, or so he'd thought, had actually been the first to fall. He would find her in the nursery in the middle of the night, with Millie on her shoulder, pacing up and down, being the good mother to the tiny infant while she let everyone else sleep.

Henry arrived at the door to his bedroom and looked inside. On his bed, he could make out a tangle of limbs, with his partners wrapped around each other. Anya was lying on her back, eyes closed, reclining blissfully as Jen snuggled into her side. They were moving, slowly, Jen's hand between her wife's legs, touching her pussy in languid, sensuous strokes. Jen's lips were pursed around the nipple of one of Anya's pendulous breasts, swollen by motherhood, sucking. Like Anya, Jen's eyes were closed, her mouth making tiny slurping noises, the only sound save for the wet slapping of the fingers burying themselves in Anya's sodden entrance.

Coiled around one of Anya's hands was a leather strap, the other end leashed to Jen's collar, holding her close. Jen shifted slightly, her mouth opening for a moment, leaving behind traces of a white liquid on the honey-coloured skin of Anya's breast. She sighed and resumed suckling. Henry stared, watching Jen attending to Anya's breast. This was new. He glanced at Anya and found her watching him.

As if in answer to his unspoken question, Anya shrugged fractionally and began to stroke her wife's hair. She made a hand signal, pointing down and Henry understood. Anya had dropped Jen deep into sub space, letting the blonde woman drift in the pleasure of servicing her Mistress. Anya could do it with a few choice commands and the collar and leash these days; it didn't need her to assume the role of latex-clad dominatrix to push Jen into complete submission. Henry realised that the suckling would be reinforcing it, deepening Jen's feeling of submission as she tasted her Mistress's milk.

"Have you been a good girl for me?" Anya murmured, as she continued to stroke Jen's hair, "Are you my good girl?"

Jen's mouth broke off from Anya's nipple and she nodded.

"Yes Mistress, I'm your good girl," she replied in a slow, dreamy voice.

"Are you ready to cum?"

Jen paused, kissing her wife's breasts.

"No Mistress, I haven't earned it."

Anya grinned at Henry. "No, but I want you to cum for me, anyway, when I tell you. Can you do that for me?"

Anya shot a quizzical look at Henry. Henry shrugged, silently negotiating the terms of the engagement. Anya glanced down at Jen's body, and Henry noticed it, finally. Jen was straddling Anya's leg, her pussy pressed firmly against Anya's hip, slowly grinding herself against Anya's skin, teasing and tormenting herself even as her hand worked tirelessly between Anya's legs.

"Have you been edging like a good girl?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Does it feel good to be allowed to press your needy little slit against me?"

"Yes... Mistress."

"No more. Get on your knees, stick your bottom up. I want an orgasm."

Jen hesitated, her brain fogged by desire and denial, but at last she seemed to understand. She pulled herself up onto her knees, shuffling further down the bed until her face was level with Anya's crotch. Anya paid out slack on the leash then gripped tightly, keeping Jen in position over her crotch.

"Down you go, good girl."

Jen began to nuzzle Anya's pussy, running her tongue along her slit. Anya reached down, gathering Jen's tangled blonde hair to one side so she could watch her wife lapping at her crotch, lost in the bliss of serving her Mistress. Anya looked up at Henry, over the raised curves of Jen's bottom, her gaze a clear invitation to him.

Henry slid onto the bed, kneeling behind the oblivious blonde woman, reaching out tentatively to stroke her glistening, waxed crotch. The silver clit ring dangled between her puffy labia, and Henry brushed it with a fingertip. Jen squirmed, emitting a low moan that was muffled by Anya's crotch.

Deliberately, Henry penetrated her with his index finger, feeling her slickness. Anya gasped, feeling the delayed reaction of Jen increasing her efforts on her Mistress's pussy.

"I know...," Anya began, but broke off to swallow hard, "Uh, I know you want to cum, I can feel how much you need it, but you're not allowed, not until I give permission. You...," again she had to break off for a moment, "You only cum on my command."

"Mmm-hmm," Jen murmured, her face pressed tightly into Anya's crotch, her cheeks now slick with the sheen of Anya's juices.

Despite having been satisfied already this morning, Henry felt himself begin to harden in his shorts as he stroked his partner's slick passage, brushing over her g-spot, making it so very hard for Jen to resist the urge to orgasm anyway, without her Mistress's approval. He could feel her body tensing as she fought the oncoming waves of her long-denied climax. He could drop his shorts now and slide into Jen's waiting, willing entrance, slake himself again, but he didn't. This was how it worked between them, this was Jen's time with Anya, like it had been Henry's time with Jen earlier; he was here by Anya's invitation, as a helping pair of hands.

Henry parted Jen's labia with the fingers of his other hand, exposing the swollen nub of her clit with its little ring. He leaned forward, taking in the scent of her pussy, and wrapped his lips around the piercing, sucking gently. Jen jolted and a split second later, Anya let out a wild, keening noise. Henry smiled to himself: Jen was going all out, buried in her wife's pussy, running on instinct now, and so very, very desperate to cum.

Henry continued to torment her, his finger deep inside, stroking her most sensitive spot, his lips pursed around her clit sucking her into him, his tongue tip teasing the little metal ring. He could hear Jen making inarticulate, animal noises. Anya was panting now, gasping for breath. Henry could imagine what Jen's tongue would be doing deep inside her. Henry broke the seal, lapping at Jen with the flat of his tongue, letting the friction do its work. He was answered immediately, feeling the shudder passing through Jen's body, the feathering of her thigh muscles at the onset of her orgasm, the almighty struggle to hold back her tide.

"Cum," Anya screeched, finally pushed to her limit.

Jen obeyed immediately, contracting powerfully around Henry's embedded finger, her entire body spasming as her orgasm overwhelmed her. Anya cried out, a meaningless sound.

"Cum again," she ordered, and Henry felt Jen's body obey, slickening his face and his hand with an outpouring of her juices as she was gripped by another powerful surge.

"Cum again," Anya barked, and then her voice pitched up an octave as Jen's merciless tongue ripped a second orgasm from Anya's body, the two women in synchrony even as Henry continued to lick and suck Jen's engorged clit.

Anya made a high, strangled noise and suddenly Jen's buttocks were thrust into Henry's face, forcing him to pull back. Anya was pushing Jen's head from between her legs, her chest heaving from the exertion of her climaxes. She pulled herself further up the bed, disengaging from her wife and dropping her leash. Anya looked down at Jen for a long time, panting, waiting to get her breath back.

"My good little slut," Anya gasped at last, then rolled off the bed and walked out.

She didn't look back. Henry took that as his cue also, getting up and leaving the juice-stained, bedraggled, panting woman kneeling alone on the rumpled bedsheets.