Sara Gets What She Wants Ch. 02

Author's Note: this is part 2 of Dan's journey into complete submission to his girlfriend. This story has strong femdom and forced bi themes and explicit M/M sex.

*****

"Are you almost done?" Sara called over to me from the living room. "The game's about to start!"

The last pancake was frying, I'd just plated the scrambled eggs, and the coffee in the French press had steeped almost long enough. "One sec!" I yelled over my shoulder, stacking the pancakes on our plates, spreading liberal amounts of butter (the secret is, and always will be, to use entirely too much butter), and topping them with syrup. The eggs (salt, pepper, adobo, a dash of smoked paprika) joined the pancakes, and I loaded a tray up with the plates, extra syrup, coffee mugs, and champagne flutes. Satisfied, I padded into the living room and set the tray down on the coffee table with a flourish.

She laughed and clapped her hands. "Oh, this looks delicious! Come here." I bent down, and she rewarded me with a kiss, her lips soft, lingering against mine. She lifted her head back and smiled up at me. "Thank you, chef!"

"You're welcome. Better start before the eggs get cold," I said, returning to the kitchen for the French press, orange juice, and champagne. I was beaming with pride. I'd always liked cooking for people, but cooking for her ... it was another way to show her that I belonged to her. I filled our mugs and glasses with their appropriate beverages and then we dug in, enjoying our brunch while Troy Aikman's dulcet tones narrated another inevitable Giants loss.

"You know, my mom always said to find a man who could cook," Sara said, around a mouthful of pancake. "She would have really liked you." I clinked my glass against hers, drank deeply, and leaned back on the couch. What could be better than a lazy Sunday?

We finished our breakfasts and settled into a comfortable silence. She turned and lay on her back on the couch, putting her feet up in my lap. She'd figured out my soft spot for feet almost from day one, and she took full advantage of it. I started giving her a massage, her soles impossibly soft beneath my fingers, my attention wavering between the game and her. She scrolled through her phone, occasionally laughing and flipping it around to show me a meme on Instagram.

"Hey, what do you think of this one?" She said, turning the phone around, watching me.

It wasn't a meme. It was a picture of a man on his hands and knees, a woman standing over him with her hands pressing against the back of his head, his lips parted in an 'O' around the glistening head of a big cock.

She'd started doing this a few weeks before: randomly showing me pictures, gauging my reaction, enjoying how it embarrassed me and turned me on at the same time. She would tease me relentlessly, lighting that urge inside me, and if she felt that I deserved it she'd climb on top of me and ...

I stiffened, clearing my throat, face flushed. "Looks nice," I muttered. "Where'd you find that?"

"Nice?" She rolled her eyes. "I think you meant hot. Me and my friend Grace from college have been sending them back and forth. Her husband's into it, too."

"Oh really?" I looked over at her. "What else have you guys been talking about?"

"Mind your business," she said, playfully nudging me with her foot. "With any luck you'll find out. What do you think of this one?" She turned her phone. It was a GIF of a man on his back, 69ing with a girl, her pink lips bobbing up and down on his length while a hard dick, shiny with lube, slid into his ass.

"That's pretty hot," I admitted, finding it hard to look away. Her toes pressed gently on my dick through my sweatpants, feeling me grow.

"Feels like he agrees," she said. She typed something on her phone, her foot absently stroking up and down along me, then showed me her screen. I leaned forward to read it. She'd typed out 'omg that one got Dan kinda hard!', but she hadn't sent it yet.

Suddenly my face was red hot. "I don't know..."

"It's okay," she said, smiling at me. "I trust her. You don't have to worry about anything. Don't you want people to know how good you are for me?" She waited for me to nod, feebly, then sent the message.

We pretended to watch the game, her toes teasing me, my cock stiffening. My mind was racing, impatient to hear the little ding of the next message, wondering what she would say. How many people would Sara tell? How far could this go?

Finally her phone buzzed. Sara sat up, shifting closer to me on the couch so we could both see her screen while she typed. As their messages went back and forth, I felt a heat spreading through me, hotter and hotter, a mixture of embarrassment tinged with shame and something more primal underneath it, something deep in my stomach.

Grace: ohhh really? he's into that too?

Sara: yeah I made him suck cock for me like two weeks ago lol

Grace: omg stop are you serious??

Sara: yeah it was so hot! we took turns

Grace: so alex and I hooked up with this guy a few months ago

Grace: and it just kinda happened

Grace: alex was fucking me, then i looked up and he was sucking this dude's dick

Grace: i almost freaked out but... i kinda liked it, and alex came so hard after lol

Sara: I'm showing Dan these messages and he's getting really hard

Sara: you wanna see?

"Babe!" I said, my voice almost cracking. "What are you doing?"

"You don't want my friend to see your dick?" Sara fake-pouted at me. She was getting that look in her eyes again, that hungry look that I found myself never saying no to, and never really wanting to. She watched me for a long moment, her eyes unreadable; then she set her phone down on the coffee table and pounced on me, straddling me, her hands fumbling eagerly at the drawstring of my sweatpants. She undid the knot and yanked them down to my thighs, my cock popping free and slapping against my stomach. She wrapped one hand around it, stroking slowly, her dainty fingers squeezing around me, her other hand grabbing my chin and tugging my face towards her.

"Feels like you liked that," she whispered. "Telling her our little secret. I bet you wanted me to tell her how you came so hard with a cock in your ass, didn't you?" Her hand moved along my shaft a little faster, squeezing a little harder around me. "Or maybe I should tell her where he came..." She slid off me, down to her knees in front of the couch, and took me in her mouth.

I groaned, leaning back. Her mouth was hot and wet around me, her tongue swirling in little circles around my sensitive head, teasing me. Then she took me deeper, her hands running up and down my thighs, around my hips, pulling me into her.

Abruptly she stopped, letting me slide out of her mouth, leaving me frustrated and standing at attention, wet with her saliva. She grabbed her phone, lining up her shot like a truly dedicated photographer, moving this way and that to get the right lighting and angle, and ... click.

I didn't try to stop her. Why would I? I wanted whatever she wanted, and I knew that; I knew it deep down in my gut. I'd do anything to make her laugh, make her smile, make her moan, make her wet. She knew it too, and she always had.

And she knew there were things I wanted that I'd never even admitted to myself.

She joined me on the couch again, ignoring my throbbing dick, showing me her conversation. The first thing I saw was the picture - Sara never took bad pictures, ever, and it didn't seem like she'd decided to start now.

Grace: omggg I can't believe you lol you're still crazy

Grace: your bf has a nice dick, I'm gonna show alex

Sara: send us a pic too, fair's fair!

A few minutes went by before her next message came through. Grace's orange-painted fingernails were wrapped around the base of her husband's shaft. His dick looked thick, a bit darker than mine, with a prominent mushroom head that was slightly wider than his shaft and thick veins criss-crossing up and down his length.

"What do you think?" Sara said, as we looked at the pic together.

"Looks good," I mumbled.

"Oh, you're so shy," she laughed, shooting me a look. "Well, you're shy now. You won't be when you're on your knees with his cock in your mouth. Ooh, a video call!"

I looked down. Her FaceTime was ringing. Before I had a chance to pull my pants up, Grace's face appeared on the phone. I vaguely recognized her - I realized that I had met her, once or twice, at parties with Sara's old college friends. Sara still kept in touch with a lot of them. She was cute, with almond-shaped brown eyes and dark bangs.

"Hey!" Sara said, waving at her phone.

"Hi Sara!" Grace looked at me, waving back. "Hi Dan!"

"Um," I stammered. "Hi, Grace. How've you been?"

"Great! So, listen ..." she glanced back and forth conspiratorially, leaning into her camera and lowering her voice. "Alex and I were thinking... we both like an audience. Do you guys wanna watch me blow him?"

"I mean, yeah," Sara laughed. "Who would say no to that?"

"Okay, one sec." Grace disappeared, the view shaking and blurry as she walked into another room on the other end of the call. "Honey! ... yeah. Uh-huh. Can you hold the camera?"

The blur stabilized around her husband's face as he held the phone. He looked a bit older than us, maybe in his mid-30s, with hair that was starting to turn grey, blue eyes, and a friendly smile. "Hey guys," he said. He seemed perfectly relaxed, like this was a completely normal situation; maybe for them, it was. "How've you been? How was that trip, you guys looked great - where was it again?"

"Greece," Sara said, covering a smile with her fingers. "Yeah, it was great. We're good. You remember Dan?"

"Yeah, what's up man?" He said, looking at me.

"You know, same old shit," I said, painfully aware of my stiff dick - Sara was holding her phone at just the right angle that you couldn't see it on camera.

"Grace is getting impatient." The view switched. Grace was on her knees in front of Alex, her hand already working his shaft, smiling up at the camera. I could see more than just her face now: she was wearing a white v-neck that probably belonged to Alex, since it was big on her, the tops of her tanned breasts and cleavage just peaking through the V in the collar. "Okay, you can start," he said. She bent forward, planting a sucking kiss on his head, then ran her tongue up and down the sides of his cock. His length thickened and grew with every passing second.

Finally she took him in her mouth, her head bobbing down until she had about half his shaft between her lips. Her hand kept working up and down his base, her head lolling to the side until she was facing the camera in profile, his cockhead pushing her cheek out towards the camera.

"Look at you!" Sara laughed. She bent down, close to my ear, taking my earlobe between her teeth and biting just hard enough to send goosebumps rippling up and down my arms. "I bet you could suck his cock better," she whispered in my ear. "You'd take him all the way down your throat. Wouldn't you?"

Then she handed me her phone and slipped off the couch, sinking to her knees in front of me again. "Show them!" she said, and then I was back in her hot mouth, her gorgeous lips sliding up and down along me, her fingers teasing and then enveloping my balls, gently squeezing me. I switched from the front-facing camera to show them.

"Damn," Alex said. He watched my girlfriend sucking my cock, while I watched his wife suck his. We were both rock hard. I leaned back, losing myself in the feeling of Sara's lips and tongue around me, expertly pleasuring me as only she could, while I watched Grace pump his shaft into her mouth. It was easy to imagine it was Grace's tongue teasing my slit, her fingers gently rolling and massaging my balls. It was easy to imagine other things, too.

After a few minutes Alex grunted, the camera shaking as he reached down and grabbed her shoulder. His dick slipped free of her mouth with a pop, and she held him over her face, her mouth open and her eyes closed, her fingers a blur on his shaft. He groaned again; his cock twitched; the first spurt of cum shot into her mouth, white and thick on her pink tongue, a few more ropes landing on her lips and cheek as she kept jerking him, milking him into her mouth. She laughed, swallowing and wiping cum from her face with the back of her hand.

The sight of his cock spasming and shooting his load on her face was sending me over the edge, but Sara stopped again, letting my dick fall free from her mouth. I felt a sudden rush of air cold against my wet skin as she blew on me gently. Then she looked up at me, her eyes sparkling, a half-smile on her lips. She wasn't going to let me get off that easy.

"You're not gonna suck him off?" Alex said. He sounded disappointed. "Poor guy!"

Sara took her phone back from me and sat next to me, switching the camera to face us. "I don't think he's earned it yet." She frowned, exaggerated, as if an idea was occurring to her. "Why don't you do it?"

Alex laughed. "If you come over, maybe I will."

Grace's face appeared back on the screen, her cheeks flushed, breathing a little hard. "How about next Saturday? Like, 1 or 2? Don't forget your bathing suits!"

"It's a date," Sara said. "Alright, I'd better take care of him. Bye guys!" She winked at the phone, then ended the call. She lay back down on the couch, her feet pressing into my lap but avoiding my dick. I could tell from the look on her face how much she loved it, loved how hard and frustrated I was. "That was fun. Pretty hot, right?"

"Yeah, that was ... a first. FaceTime foursome." I shifted my hips a little, trying to grind myself into the sole of her foot, but she moved it away and pretended not to notice.

"What did you think of her technique?" She asked, watching me.

"What am I, an expert?"

"I'm turning you into one," she laughed. "Come on, it's just me! Be honest. You could have sucked him better than she did, don't you think?"

I felt hot, confused, dizzy, horny - a familiar tableau of emotions around her. "Yeah," I admitted. "I think so."

"Was that so hard?" She hooked her thumbs inside her tights and rolled them down her legs and off her feet, then lay back, spreading her legs on the couch, opening herself to me. Her pussy was soaked, her excitement dripping between the folds of her lips, her skin flushed. Her fingers glided down her stomach, pausing to circle around her clit, then ran between her lips, her middle finger sliding inside her. "Describe it to me. How you would have done it differently."

"I..."

"It's just me," she whispered, her eyes half-glazed as she pleasured herself. "Tell me."

"I would start the same," I said. I found it hard to meet her eyes but impossible to look away. "Kissing the head, licking the sides... but I would have taken him all the way down my throat, even if it made me choke and gag. I wouldn't use my hand at all, just deep throat him."

Her fingers slipped out of herself, returning to her clit, rubbing it a little faster. "Go on," she said. "What else would you have done?"

"Sucked his balls," I said. My face was burning so hot I could barely think. "She ignored them. And ..."

She let out a half-moan.

"And I would have let him cum in my mouth."

"Come here and fuck me," she said. "Now."

I jumped on top of her, over-eager, desperate to be inside her; her fingers gripped me and guided me; I entered her warmth, and she cried out in pleasure as I sank into her, her walls so hot and slick around me. I was already too close, so I went slow, forcing myself to take my time, feeding her my cock while she rubbed her clit. I leaned back just a little, angling my hips so I could stroke upwards into her, trying to hit her most sensitive spot. After all, she'd showed me how good it felt when her strap-on slammed into my prostate, over and over...

Luckily for me and my aching cock, she didn't last long. With a sigh she wrapped her legs around my waist, her heels pressing into my sides, and bit her lip, holding in her cries as her legs shook and spasmed and her pussy tightened rhythmically around me, pulling me deeper. I fought to keep up a steady pace, fucking her through it as she came around my cock, trying to make myself last just a few moments longer.

Her legs fell back down to my sides and she relaxed for a moment, basking, letting me fuck her slowly. Then she reached up, grabbing me by the hair, pulling me down roughly on top of her; her fingernails grazed down my back; she grabbed my ass, pulling me into her, forcing me to go faster. She watched me, her eyes hungry, her tongue sliding across her bottom lip. "Are you gonna cum for me?"

I lost myself, my hips slapping against hers wildly, plunging into her to the hilt, feeling her wetness against my balls. She asked me again; I could barely even hear her. I was so close, so desperate, I threw my head back...

She pulled back, squeezing me out, her hips pushing me away. I slid out of her, aching, denied just before the point of no return. "Why..." I mumbled, confused again, frustrated, almost angry. I was so close!

She laughed. "You're so cute when you're mad." Then she raised an eyebrow, watching me. I wanted so badly to reach down, jerk myself, it would only take a few strokes... but I knew better. That wasn't my decision to make, not right now. "Did you forget who you belong to?" She asked, her voice dropping low.

"No, mistress," I said, my voice shaking.

"Did you forget that you cum when and how I please?"

"No, mistress."

She smiled, reaching for her glass on the coffee table and taking a big sip of her mimosa. "Good boy. Go put your collar on. We have a game to watch." She smirked. "Love you!"

***

"Are you fucking serious?" I asked, as we turned into their driveway. "This is them?"

They lived about 45 minutes away from us. It was a gorgeous early fall day, clear skies and a gentle breeze, and we enjoyed the drive out of the city and up into the bluffs. I had been stealing glances out the window the whole way up, trying to catch a glimpse of the blue Pacific peeking through the cracks between the trees. Their neighborhood was set back from the rest of the town, each house standing pridefully over its own little kingdom, glass and metal and red shingle roofs sticking out from the hillsides.

"I guess so," Sara said. Even she seemed impressed, her eyes widening. "I've never been here. I mean, she never said anything..."

We stopped in front of a gate. After a few seconds it rolled open, and I drove us up the hill; their driveway zigzagged back and forth upwards, in lazy bends. The house finally appeared from between the trees, nestled up on top of the hill. It was a villa style house, all white limestone and flat red roofs, a little piece of the Mediterranean deposited on a California hillside.

I got out of the car and went around the front to open the door for Sara. Then I reached into the back seat to grab the bottle of wine we'd brought, feeling a little sheepish - suddenly, compared to all this, it felt inadequate. Their front yard was immaculately groomed, a line of palm trees swaying in the wind, giving them a little privacy from the street.

Sara and I looked at each other, then headed up the driveway.

"Oh, you're here! Welcome, welcome!" Grace called out, appearing from around the side of the house. She was a little shorter than Sara, sun-kissed, her black hair whipping around beneath her hat as she smiled at us and waved. She was dressed casually in a thin turquoise tunic dress that came down to her upper thighs, just sheer enough to show her white bikini, and bright orange flip-flops that matched the color of her toe polish.