Out Of Tensions, Out Of Binds

He looked up at me. 'You did?'

I nodded. 'She was... gorgeous. Sexy. She had an intern - Marnie - whose tongue she used as tension relief.'

'Fuck,' Martin moaned, though I wasn't sure if it was because of the story, or because I again almost let him slip into me.

'I shared with Marnie as we ate her,' I told him, whispering into his ear. 'Her cunt was... perfect, Martin. You're going to love it.'

He blinked. 'Going to?'

'She's back in the city today for filming; I figure that we should take that opportunity while it's there.'

'I'm not sure we should, you know, use your power for that,' he said, trying not to admit how hard it made him.

'For what?' I asked, lifting up. Then, as I lowered myself onto his cock, 'For pleasure?'

'Hahhhhh,' he moaned as I settled on him, balls-deep in one long, wet slide. 'Shit, you feel so good.'

'So do you,' I said. 'But... if you want, I'll let you compare us.'

He looked at me, frowning. 'Phoebe, that's... it's wrong. Making someone do that.'

'When I'm in someone,' I said before-

*

-swapping to make my point.

'What I want and what they want are the same thing.'

Martin, now inside me, feeling his own cock fill his slutty hole as he rode me, pressing down and lifting up in lustful movements that betrayed how fucking good it felt.

'You should have seen her,' I said. 'She was... a being of sex and beauty. Otherworldly.'

'Fuck,' Martin whimpered as he started to move faster, riding my cock the way he knew felt best. I reached up, gripping his tits in my hands, moving my hips to press into him, meeting those downstrokes as my cock settled inside his slutty pussy with a satisfying squish with each motion.

'I felt her cum on my face,' I told him. 'Her thighs shuddering, that perfect jawline trembling as she orgasmed for me.' Martin moved faster now, and I met him - our speed building as our own pleasure rose fast and comfortable. 'Then, I was her - and I used her to fuck her intern, eating her and kissing her and doing everything Sylvia had ever wanted. But do you know what she hasn't had?'

Martin, his eyes fluttering beneath my eyelids, was barely able to answer as he bounced, fucking himself on his own cock, lost in the scene.

'She hadn't had a cock like yours in years,' I told him. 'She isn't gay - she's bisexual, and no man has lived up to her ideas of 'worthy', so instead she takes out her needs on her poor Marnie.'

'Oh, shit,' Martin moaned as I pulled him down, using Martin's own strength to lift my frame, and flip myself under his more muscular build - which mean I was able to fuck him like the slut we were.

My hand on his tit, the other on the bed over his head, I fucked the moaning Martin-Phoebe as though it was the only thing I knew how to do.

Fuck, it was hot, though. And, admittedly, unavoidable narcissistic - watching yourself be pleasured, moaning and begging to cum, and getting off on it was impossible to deny as a self-loving thing to do. But, in those complicated moments, I simply chose to think of it as masturbation with extra steps.

And we were very, very good at it by now.

We kissed, our bodies and minds merging and pounding and writhing and basking, until I felt Martin seize up - the shuddering of my body beneath me, and the half-contained groan that escaped from it, telling me I'd fucked him to orgasm.

Which, promptly, set me off - and, as I filled myself with cum, moaning and grinding and kissing the nape of his neck-

*

-I shifted back, short of breath, feeling the afterglow of Martin's orgasm roll through me in waves of delight.

After a moment, Mertin slipped out of me, and kissed me with the sort of sweetness I didn't expect to follow sex that good, and he sat on the egde of the bed.

'I still think we don't need her,' he said. 'I've got everything I need in this bed.'

THUNK-THUNK-THUNK.

The knock made us both jump; after a quick exchange of glances, Martin stood up and pulled a dressing gown off the back of the bedroom door before heading out. The bedside clock said it was about 10am, so it wasn't totally unacceptable for anyone to come round - we just didn't really know anyone, or at least anyone who would come knocking without it being planned.

After a moment, Martin cracked open the bedroom door, and poked his head through.

'It's for you,' he said. The lack of any tension in his voice let me settle a little, and I had to remind myself that there wasn't anything anyone could do to me that I wouldn't be able to stop.

I was in charge. I was in charge. I was in charge.

I stood, pulled on a long tee from the clean-washing pile in the corner that really needed to be folded and put away, and a pair of pants I hoped were from the same pile, and peeked out the door. In the living room, milling around rather aimlessly, was Zara. When I saw her, I softened, and nodded to Martin to stay in the bedroom while I talked to her. She was, as usually, looking amazing - in running shorts and a sports bra, with a light jacket-thing on top, and noticeably lacking any sweat. Maybe she was on her way out, or maybe she just knew how good her curves looked in athletic wear.

As the door clicked behind me, Zara turned, her face not giving anything away.

'Hey,' I said, rather dumbly.

'Hi,' she said, like it wasn't the word she'd expected to say. 'Sorry - I'm not... I don't know what to say.'

I shrugged, and offered a chair to her. 'Sit?'

She nodded, and settled into an armchair, while I plopped down into the sofa opposite her. I realised, with a note of regret, that this was the spot I used to listen to her and Alex fucking - lying here, on the sofa, getting myself off as he used her. It was also, I realised, the spot Zara had woken up inside my body at one point, before anyone knew what exactly was going on.

'Seems like a lifetime ago,' she said, a distance in her eyes. 'I came by to pick up some of my things. Alex was on the lease, and seeing as he's going away for a while, I don't think it's smart to leave anything in there.'

I shook my head. 'No, yeah, good idea.'

She paused, looking at me. 'I just... I don't know where I'm going, and... and I needed to ask. I need to know. It was you, wasn't it?'

I nodded.

'Okay, good,' she said. 'In that case - thank you. And, I'm sorry. He showed up with that gun, and told me to drive while you were... while your brain was elsewhere. I don't even know where he got it.'

I nodded, thinking back to being inside Sylvia, and coming out expecting Zara to take me back to Martin for some fun. That day hadn't exactly gone to plan.

'Doesn't matter now,' I said, and she smiled in that way which wasn't really a smile. 'And, I'm sorry, too. I... took advantage of you. And I villainised you, when you were just trying to get by in the world.'

That was when she perked up, and shook her head. 'No! No, that's - that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about,' she said. Then, after a pause, she frowned and rubbed her eyes. 'Sorry. Look, Phoebe - you can go inside people's heads, yeah?'

I frowned, and didn't answer - and she didn't wait for a response.

'Would you be able to just, like, jump into me, and see it for yourself? I can't... I don't think I can say it out loud.'

I waited for some kind of context, but none came, so instead I just-

*

-jumped.

I could feel it immediately - Zara was horny. Like, the kind of horny that makes you go online and send pictures to people just for the rush of it. The kind of horny that makes you feel bad about yourself. The kind of horny that gets you desperate enough to ask for-

Oh.

Oh!

Zara wasn't just here to share how she felt - she was here to ask for a favour.

I could feel, inside her pretty head, how Alex had ruined her for so long, using her like a sex-toy, making her cum on his cock like a slut daily, to the point where she barely even recognised that there was anything wrong with him.

Until she'd spent that time with Martin.

Since then, she couldn't help but feel like she needed something... softer. Something more loving. But, just as insistently, she needed to be fucked. It was a complicated sort of position to be in.

What she had worked out, inside her own head, was a plan that required me to be on board 100%, and it was... quite the ask. Which, most likely, was why she was reluctant to say it out loud.

She wanted to be fucked - just ruined - by Martin, but she knew he was a kind guy; so, she wanted me, Phoebe, to use Martin's body to fuck her the way I had when I was 'Alex'. She wanted the best of both worlds. In fact, she couldn't stop thinking about it since Alex went away.

And it was driving her insane.

'Oh wow,' she said, and I wasn't too sure which of us had said it.

The sound of Martin entering the room made us both turn, to see that he was now fully dressed in a nice shirt and jeans - and Zara noted that he looked good all dressed up. Her memory surfaced of that night I had spent with Alex, and she with Martin, and I found that they had, in fact, had sex - but it wasn' tfucking. In fact, Zara had revelled in the fact that they had watched a movie together, making out on the sofa softly, before hearing me getting railed by Alex next door. The sound got them both in the mood, and he took her to bed, before eating her out until she came - something Alex refused to do.

Martin looked at the lifeless form of 'Phoebe' on the sofa, and then to me and Zara. 'What's going on?' he asked.

'Zara came here to fuck you,' I said simply. 'Well - she wants me AND you, in your body, to fuck her. Because, since Alex, she's been going insane, and needs someone she trusts to turn her inside out.'

He stood there, eyes wide, and sighed. 'Is this my life, now? One weird sexual tryst after another?'

I smirked, and jumped-

*

-from Zara to Martin. I could feel the rush of arousal go through him, and as Zara stood watching us, I smiled using his lips.

'Oh, he wants to do this,' I said.

Zara looked at my body, then to Martin. 'You're in him? Now?'

I nodded. 'You're wet. He's hard - or will be, soon. But! I think we should add one more layer to our cake, here.'

Then, I forced out Martin, swapping with him. Behind Zara, he woke up in my body, looking up at us both.

'I'm still in him,' I told Zara. 'That is Martin, in my body. Swapped.'

'Oh,' Zara said with a sigh.

'And, the last time we did this, it was all about Martin. Today, it's all about you, okay?' I walked up to her, taking her by the waist, and kissing her deeply. She moaned, eyes fluttering, and let our tongues explore each other.

From behind her, Martin, using my hands, slipped around her waist and deftly slipped beneath those revealing athletic shorts. Zara hummed, feeling my hands in her underwear, before pulling back.

'You two are insane,' she said with a smirk.

'You have no idea,' I heard my own voice say. I opened my eyes as Zara kissed my neck, and saw my own face, flush with red cheeks, as Martin unzipped the back of Zara's sports bra. With a gasp into my neck, and a quick shift of her arms, she was topless, and those pert, perfect tits pressed into Martin's chest like cushions from heaven.

As Martin kept kissing at her back, hand hands slid up and massaged her chest, making her moan into my mouth as I went beneath her shorts again, holding her delicious butt in my palms. I slipped my right hand around, staying within her shorts, until I could feel the soft brush of her pubic hair against my fingers; from there, I slipped one finger down between her folds, and felt the wet invitation of her sex as Martin used my hands to caress her chest. Zara was near-delirious as we worshipped her body, and eventually she pulled back from me and turned to see us both.

'Bedroom?'

~ 8 ~

I was the first to wake up, warm and pinned beneath a tangle of limbs. Zara stirred a little as I shifted out from beneath her leg, but Martin barely noticed. As I sat up to get out of bed, I stumped my toe against one of Zara's boxes, swearing a little under my breath; but, as I turned back and saw her, peaceful and content as she shared a pillow with Martin, I couldn't stay upset.

Almost two weeks since she had arrived at our door, looking for release, and there was no sense of her leaving. Turns out, we didn't exactly want her to. She was... fun. The person I had been jealous of for so long was, indeed, bright and sparkly and cute, but she was also kind and attentive in ways Alex hadn't let her express before.

I went to the window, nude and uncaring, where I had so often people-watched. Some mornings I would jump out and share with people, just to see what their lives were like. The nicer ones, I would try and fulfill some aspect of their day they were struggling with - sending off an email for work they didn't want to deal with, small things like that.

Once or twice, I'd inhabited the sort of person no one should be around, and while I'd never gone as far as I had with Ava or Alex, I did like to instill my own little justices. One cheating woman in her fifties was so rude, even inside her own head, I just pulled up her banking app on her phone, and donated half of her stowed-away savings to charity - only funds she was planning on using to book a holiday with her boyfriend whilst her husband thought she was working.

Another little task of mine was figuring out how to make money. I didn't fancy outright robbing people, but equally my ability only served a slim consumer base - people who believed I was, in some way, psychic. Zara had set me up some online presence as an 'energy clearer', using some of her more hippy-esque contacts online; the idea being they would come to me, and I would share with them; they experienced my 'taking over' as an out-of-body experience, while I worked on calming them. I'd search through their memories, and find enough details to say to them once I finished sharing - things like, 'Your son is acting out because he feels ignored.' I'd add details, make sure they believed me, and they'd pay me for their time.

It wasn't much, and it certainly wasn't ethical, but it was enough to keep us above water. After all, it wasn't like Martin could go back to working for Ava.

I watched out, over the park, and I heard Zara get up. The sound of a kiss, shared between her and Martin, made my heart flutter before she came up behind me, stunning as ever, and wrapped her arms around me.

'Morning,' she mumbled into my neck. 'I'm making coffee.'

'Hmmmm,' I groaned as she left, the tickle of her fingertips on my shoulder blades.

Soon after, Martin came through in the dressing gown - and nothing else - and we shared an easy morning of hot coffee and contented sighs, the television on, and a customer lined up for me at 11, organised by Zara.

Which, of course, gave us plenty of time to fill with our favourite activity - which, not to put it too crudely, was being inside each other.

Heh.

As ever, an enormous thank-you to:

Flarevirtue

Simon Haynes

Sindre Bjørnhjell

Peer Henze

Mannie_RSF

Obi