Rule of Thumb Ch. 12

Loren popped in at the end of the day, almost everything about her signaling that subtle change I'd noticed in the morning. She was wearing a Western-style gingham shirt and a pair of denim that I'd never seen her in and fit her like a glove. She moved with a breezy air and casual sense. But her hair was the most noticeable change. She'd always worn it short – I don't know anything about women's hair styles, Marnie never seemed to care about that stuff – maybe a 'bob?' But now she had gotten it styled somehow, feathered and layered in some way that made it look windswept – adding to her breeziness.

"You look amazing," I said, greeting her with a kiss. "Uhhhmm...wow."

She smiled and twirled a little, happy. "You like it?"

I assumed she meant her hair. "I'm loving it. You didn't change anything else, did you?" I whispered it conspiratorially, squeezing her ass cheeks.

She laughed and shook her head. "Why would I do that? Anyway I can't stay, I've got to get stuff done at the house and get ready for the week. Dinner sometime?"

The week went by in fits and starts, mostly uneventful with a couple of exceptions. Loren and I had agreed not to be with each other until Friday. The anticipation building up to the night was an important part of it. But we talked every evening. I teased her, forced her to show me her playing with herself over Skype, letting her see how hard it was making me.

I wanted to know more about what she and Shelly had done on Saturday, but she wouldn't tell me. I could have demanded it, could have punished her for not complying, but there was something important about her owning that, about her deciding when it was okay to let me know that I didn't want to violate.

I mentioned what Shelly had written in the note, and what she had said at the bar, which I could tell raised an eyebrow, and Loren did reveal that Shelly hadn't done much more than stroke her, but that it seemed like she wanted to go further.

Some nights we talked for hours, like teenagers, and more often than not the conversation turned to what we would be doing on Friday night. I could tell she was concerned about sharing me with another woman, but something else kept creeping up in her comments that I could tell excited her – the thought of having someone to dominate. I made sure to capture a few of the fantasies she kept coming back to: of taking the lead, of being the object of Shelly's attention and of the two of us double-teaming her. The whole focus on Shelly had forged a partnership in a way no amount of discipline had done before.

Gordy called saying he had heard from several folks and wanted a recap of what had happened. "Dangerous game you're playing, Rick. She's a viper. And to bring your clients into it...doesn't seem prudent."

I appreciated Gordy for his conservative nature and was amused by the contradictions of his personal life. Still, he knew the situation better than I'd ever know it, so I couldn't ignore his counsel.

"I'm trying to get out from under her – this is part of the plan. So, how many?"

He didn't give me details of who, but revealed about six folks had called him. That had to have been enough, I hoped.

The only other event of interest was Jamison telling me the thing would be delayed another week. Jamison was a guy who could give you bad news and you'd feel excited afterwards. I thanked him for the call and after hanging up wondered why I was taking it so well. It didn't really matter, I figured. One way or another, Loren would be feeling it in the end.

Friday was a crazy day at work, in spite of trying to keep my schedule light. Before I knew it, it was time to head home, earlier than usual, to make sure Shelly was able to get in and set up. I saw her van parked in front of the house and I pulled up next to her. "You want to back into the garage? Would that be easier?"

"Nahh. It's just a few trays. I can just carry them."

I opened the garage and pulled in, inviting her to come through the back door to the kitchen.

Within a few minutes we were alone and I realized I had better kick on the A/C if my guests weren't going to be baked alive. Shelly's face looked flushed, which I chalked up to the heat and the exertion, but I wasn't sure, smiling to myself.She might be nervous.I thought.That would be so excellent.

"Hey," I called from the hall, "I'm going to get changed and then I can come down and help. If you need anything to drink, or want to open a bottle of wine, feel free – you know where we keep 'em."

I came down and set up the bar, taking stock of what I had and what I knew these guys would like. Just the opposite of last week, I smiled, more than happy to share the single-malts and bourbons. There was a knock on the door and I had a moment of panic, seeing how early it was.

"Hey," Loren came in wearing practically the same outfit as the week before, without the pearls this evening I noted, looking as ravishing as ever. She reached up gave me a kiss, deep and long. The prohibition was over, I suppose, but we wouldn't be able to do anything about anything for several hours. Her hand slid to my trousers and rubbed me. "I hope it'll be as hard for you as it is already wet for me," she whispered. "She here?"

I nodded in the direction of the kitchen and returned to my bar duties.

From my position in the living room, I could see the kitchen almost completely, either directly or reflected in a few windows from the dining room. I watched as Loren came in, greeted Shelly and continued to chat with her. I couldn't hear their conversation, but Shelly looked over, pointed, and then blushed. Moments later, she reached up and pulled Loren's head forward and lightly kissed her. When Loren stepped back, Shelly looked flustered and nervous. After a few more moments of discussion I couldn't hear, Shelly looked up at her, looked out to see me watching, looked down and blushed. I was curious what was going on, only seeing the visuals without the sound track. Loren ran her hand down her cheek and kissed her lightly on her nose. Still looking down, Shelly nodded and after Loren turned away went back to work.

"Mix me a drink?" Loren whisked into the room, her little black dress hugging every curve.

"Old Fashioned?"

"I hardly think so," she laughed, nodding.

"So," I looked at her while I assembled the cocktail, "what was that all about?"

She giggled a little. "I was just getting her ready for the evening."

I waited, mixing her drink.

"I asked her if she was ready to serve us," she continued, looking into the kitchen. "She suggested you had wanted a buffet." She giggled again and looked over at me to see why I wasn't sharing in the joke.

I shook my head in confusion, handing her the lo-ball.

"I told her that would be an interesting thing to try one night, but tonight we expected a little more personal service. That's when she blushed. She's so cute when she blushes, don't you think?"

I grunted, getting the joke. "You know," I said, coming around from behind the bar, "she doesn't seem all that experienced for someone her age."

"I don't think she's as old as you think she is. I'm not sure she's even my age."

I protested, raising my eyebrows. "Really? I've known her almost 10 years and she's been cooking since the beginning. I figured with college and cooking school, she's got to be 30 minimum."

She took a sip and shrugged. "We can ask her later."

Looking over her shoulder into the kitchen, I watched Shelly moving from station to station, preparing trays, putting things in the fridge, adding color here and there. Setting my drink down behind me on the bar, I wrapped my arms around Loren, bringing my fingers to the hem of her dress. "Don't protest, don't say a word, and by all means, don't spill your drink on me."

She inhaled sharply as I pulled her dress up above her waist and slipped her panties and hose down below the curve of her ass, exposing her to Shelly, should she look our way.

"Spread your legs a little."

I could smell her musk drifting up the front of her skirt. I pulled her ass cheeks apart and slipped one finger down between her legs, her pussy sopping. I was prepared to hold this position until Shelly looked up, or the doorbell rang. Loren's heart was beating fast, her breathing shallow, cursing me softly. Moments later, Shelly looked up and stopped, staring at the tableau. I nodded at her, suggesting she shouldn't turn away, and started pumping my hand into Loren's slit. The squishing sound was loud to my ears, but I'm certain Shelly couldn't hear us. Taking my hand off of Loren's ass, I brought two fingers up to make a 'V' and pointed them at Shelly. She shook her head, confused and blushing. I just nodded and pulled my other hand out of Loren.

"That was sweet. Thanks." I took my finger, wet with her juices and stirred it into my drink. "Hmmm, maybe I'll figure out a cocktail to name after you."

She just pursed her lips, shook her head and adjusted her clothes, unwilling to break whatever agreement we had going, knowing she was my sub, but still not sure when the power relationship began and the public relationship ended.

We sat on the couch waiting for the guests to arrive, sipping our drinks. "I told you Jamison's going to be late with the slapper, right?"

She nodded, disappointed.

"But the rest of the stuff is here and I've been thinking about how to use one of the gags..."

We were interrupted by the doorbell.

"Genene! Carlos! So great you could make it. Genene, Carlos, this is Loren. Loren, Genene, Carlos." It was obvious from their smiles that they were smitten with her immediately. Loren took their things while I invited them for a drink.

"So, I know you're going to tell this story a dozen times tonight, but we've been dying to know – how'd you guys meet?" Genene said it confidentially as if telling her would be our little secret. Carlos looked at me expectantly with a healthy dose of commiseration. He knew what I was in for. As I was about to answer, the bell rang again and I was off.

Loren glided over with her drink and chatted with them, waiting as the new arrivals came into the room. At last week's party, people had come appropriately late, but this crowd didn't want to wait any longer than they had to.

With everyone settled, drinks in hand, the buffet half eaten, I took the bull by the horns.

"Okay, okay, settle down everyone. I know you're all dying to learn more about what's going on. Thank you for not making us tell this story over and over again." We had discussed what we were going to say – Loren was adamant that nothing about our lifestyle would enter into it – but I knew a few of the women would know we weren't telling the whole story. So we agreed on a fake backstory that we would only tell in the highest confidence, one on one.

"You've all met Loren," I had my arm around her waist as we sat on the couch. "You know that we've been neighbors for over seven years, yes," I saw Missy doing the math, "Bob, Loren, Marnie and I knew each other as neighbors. But there wasn't any chemistry or even any hint of chemistry until earlier this month.

"Springtime – it changes people, right?" I looked around, seeing smiles and nods. "So, it was one of those beautiful Spring weekends, we were both out doing our gardening and we kind of looked up and almost at the same time, thought – why aren't we spending more time together? I knew she had had a terrible time going through her divorce from Bob, and she had seen first-hand what Marnie and I had been going through. Anyway, that's the long and short of it, and I hope you all take some time to get to know each other. You're all very important to me and I'd like to think you can expand your hearts to embrace Loren just as much as you loved Marnie."

That brought tears to a few eyes, and I turned to Loren, lightly drawing her head to mine and kissed her, hoping to subtly establish our relationship without being too explicit. She narrowed her eyes as she kissed me, knowing full well what I was doing, but she didn't stop, moving her tongue against my lips. I pulled away, smiling.

We mingled and chatted, Loren about her job and about her interests in gardening. Plans were made to go out to dinner sometime soon, with much discussion about which restaurant to try. She couldn't keep up with the conversations about wine, and it was clear there was almost a generation gap – most of these friends were in their late 30s/early 40s. She knew the references they were making to the popular TV and culture from their college days, but it wasn't her thing. It was her oldest sister's thing, she mentioned to me later. She thought of these people like her older sister, her childhood idol.

We got an early start, they plowed through the food, and as opposed to the prior week's party, this crew knew when the food ran out it was time to leave. By 8:30 they place was cleared. We joined Shelly in the kitchen as she was straightening up. She looked at Loren and then at me, her eyes quickly darting back and forth, nervous as a schoolchild about to see the principal.

"Hey," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. She was wearing a simple shift, the apron still on. "You look like you could use a drink. Join us for one?"

She nodded, taking off the apron and drying her hands. "How'd it go," she asked lightly, her voice a little shaky.

"I think it went great. What do you think?" I turned to Loren who had put an arm around her waist on her other side, a wide smile on her face.

"It was amazingly fantastic!" She was a little drunk, I could tell.

"What'll you have?"

"Johnny Walker Red, neat?"

I was only too happy to give her a double, refreshing Loren's as well, though she didn't look like she needed any more. "Maybe you should go a little slower," I suggested in her ear.

She winked at me, suggesting she had every intention of going slow. Insidiously slowly. I grunted.

"Soooo," Shelly looked down at her glass, "I guess I'm a little nervous...I...I'm not sure...I've never done..."

"It's okay," I brushed her hair away from her face. "We're pretty new to this ourselves. But you made it clear last week you wanted to play, and we're very interested in having you as our plaything tonight. So I know, at minimum, it's going to be fun. Does 'fun' sound like fun?"

She looked between the two of us, uncertain about the 'plaything' comment and tentatively shook her head. "I just...I...."

"Shhhh," I said softly, leaning down and kissing her face lightly – one cheek, her nose and then the other, up to her forehead and across her eyes, forcing them shut. "We're all going to be playing very safely tonight. Safety is our biggest concern, even before pleasure. Okay?" I leaned back. She had started to breathe more deeply, her face relaxed, nodding, her eyes still closed. They popped open suddenly at Loren's fingers pulling the zipper of her shift down. I stroked her cheek and told her to just let things go, to let us help her.

She sipped her drink, watching my face as Loren peeled the dress off her shoulders and then turned her attention to her bra. In moments, Shelly was standing nearly naked, a thong the only article of clothing left on her. I leaned back to get a better view. Broad shouldered, thin frame, but muscular, with breasts a little larger than Loren's and practically no areolas, her nipples poking out from the surrounding flesh begging to be caressed. I couldn't see any hair around her pubis, but there may have been a thin landing strip hidden by the miniscule underwear. Her hips flared out a little, but they weren't as wide as her shoulders, making her look a little like a body builder. She was sleek – no fat – a bit of a surprise given her profession. She must work out a lot.

"So," I continued, my left hand resting on her shoulder. "Safety first. Let's get some ground rules out of the way. First and foremost, we all want to be safe. None of us will do anything we don't want to do, but you might find some of the things we'll be asking of you to be...ummm...pushing your edge". My fingers came to the underside of her chin and I held her gaze, letting her see how serious I was, in spite of my smile.

She looked down to see how vulnerable she was and shivered a little, nodding. "I...okay...I..." She finished her drink.

"That's it. We'll take it slow. Would you like another drink?"

She nodded, handing me her empty glass.

"So," Loren said, slipping her arms around her and pushing herself against her back. "Last Saturday, you mentioned how much you wish it had been you on this table...I'd like to know more about that."

Shelly moaned as Loren's hands slid up her belly to find her breasts, pinching her nipples softly. I proffered her the glass, and she drained half of it.

"I...I couldn't believe how hot that was," she said. "I'd never seen anyone so...so...vulnerable...so...exposed...so...shit, what was it...open? Loren, you were so 'open,' I don't think I could ever do that..."

"So you'd like us to help you be open like that?" I leaned forward to kiss her, not letting her answer as Loren continued to pull on her breasts. She moaned into my mouth, pushing against my tongue and nodding. "Okay," directing my words to Loren, over Shelly's shoulder. "Open."

"What else did you want us to do to you tonight, you couldn't do last weekend?" Loren said it so softly I almost couldn't hear it. Something must have happened, or didn't happen, in the bedroom.

She shivered, struggling to admit to whatever it was, choosing to take a sip of her drink instead.

"Tonight," I said softly to Shelly, "we're going to play a game that has a few simple rules." I stopped to make sure she was listening. She looked at my eyes. "Loren or I will ask you to tell us something, ask you to do something, or to not do something. And your part of the game is to follow our directions. Simple, right?" I said it with the least menace I could.

Her eyes darted from my face, down to her nakedness, to Loren's hands on her breasts and she exhaled deeply. "Yes," she said softly. "I'm the plaything."

I stroked her cheek, smiling. "But for you to be an object for our pleasure, you must be experiencing pleasure. We expect you'll also get off on what we're going to do. Yes?"

She took a breath in and out, uncertainty written all over her face. Her glass was empty and she didn't know what to do with it.

"To stay safe, Loren and I each have safe words – 'thermostat' for me and 'basket' for Loren. You know what that means?" I took her glass and set it on the bar.

"No," she said, her eyes glistening. Arousal? Fear? I couldn't tell. She was breathing harder, whether from anticipation of whatever she was imagining we would be doing to her, or from Loren's continuing stimulation of her breasts I couldn't tell. Maybe she was frightened.

"Instead of 'stop' or 'don't' or 'no,' which we won't listen to, you need a word that signifies you need us to stop."

"Turnip," Shelly said, without hesitation.

"Turnip it is then." I watched as Loren's hands moved to the tops of Shelly's thong and began peeling it down. Her breathing deepened and she sighed a little. "Now, I don't know how far we're going to go with you tonight, but it's possible you won't be able tosay'turnip' so we can hear you. Your mouth may be too full." I paused to let her think about how that might happen, "So you'll want a tune you can hum to let us know we need to stop." No hair at all. Completely shaved. Interesting.

The 1812 overture. Simple, recognizable.

"With those important safety elements in place we can continue. Okay?" I brushed her face, relaxing her jaw. "We'll be giving you a simple set of requests. If you do as we ask, you won't be punished, but if you delay, or hesitate, or protest, we'll be forced to discipline you. Do you understand?" I paused again, watching as Loren shifted to her knees, her face brushing against Shelly's tight ass. "So. Loren just asked you a question. You didn't answer. You weren't aware of the rules then, now you are. Tell us what else you expect to do tonight you couldn't do last weekend."