I hesitated, conscious of our audience, but he was right. To create the atmosphere I wanted, we had to be as vulnerable to Sean as he was to us. We removed our clothes as though no one but Sean was watching. The corset laces had left red marks on my belly. Joe set the oil on the mattress between Sean's legs so he could massage them, clucking and kissing away the angry weals. A gasp from Amy told me she liked the look of that. Joe heard it, too. His lips curled against my navel. Straightening, he tucked the oil between his thighs to warm it, which reminded me my hands needed warming.
I ran my palms up his sides to the tufts beneath his arms, burrowing through the musky tangle in search of skin. He jumped when I found it, then bent his neck to kiss me. His tongue teased the silky inner surface of my upper lip, then the lower, then slid sinuously along my tongue. A quick pull of his cheeks closed us both within the liquid cave, licking, sucking, penetrating deeply before withdrawing. I rose up on tiptoe and mewled for more. He gave it to me, covering my breasts and compressing them in a slow, circling caress. My nipples budded between his fingers.
Our show proved too much for Sean. Pained noises issued from behind his gag. I imagined how he must be feeling and moisture welled inside me. Joe's hands contracted, squeezing my rosy nipples out where his friend could see them. Sean thrashed against the sheets. Excited by his reaction, Joe's cock bobbed between our bellies, swaying like a metronome. I shuffled close enough to still it with my belly. Joe kissed me harder.
'Warm enough?' he breathed against my lips.
I nodded, probably as starry-eyed as he.
We turned to Sean. His legs scrabbled on the mattress as if he could run from what was coming, but Amy's elegant knots prevented more than an inch of play.
'Shh.' I grabbed his nearest foot and kneaded it. Sean's back arched off the bed.
'His feet are very sensitive,’ Joe confided. He grinned at Sean's muffled protest and poured a little slick of oil into my palm.
I knew why Sean wanted to keep his secret as soon as I rubbed the oil into his instep. Each stroke made him twist in his bonds until tendons stood out along his joints. Looking down at him, I felt a surge of maternal affection. He was so adorable in his resistance. To me, at
least, his tough-guy facade was entirely transparent. Inside was a stubborn-jawed toddler insisting he always be in charge of himself. Me do it, Mommy. Me.
Giving in to an impish impulse, I took hold of his big toe and wiggled it back and forth. 'This little piggy went to market,' I crooned.
Sean's expression of outrage was priceless. He was fighting so hard not to enjoy this. Too bad ol' Willy gave him away by throbbing in time to the nursery rhyme, virtually begging for more.
Happily, 'more' was my middle name. I bent over the last little piggy and tucked him into my mouth. Sean roared his fury through the gag, but when I swirled my tongue around the pad and sucked it, his entire body went limp - except for Willy, of course, who swelled and darkened and wept shiny tears of joy.
What fun, I thought, delighted by his hypersensitivity. We couldn't massage his feet forever, though, not with so much lovely flesh to explore. Joe and I clambered on to the bed to work up his legs. His muscles were loose now, like clay beneath our oily hands. Straddling his knee, I pushed up and dragged down one heavy quad-ricep. By silent agreement, Joe and I skirted his genitals. We sneaked a few admiring looks at the twitching rod, but we didn't touch it or ourselves. Waiting was sauce for all our lust.
Sean's belly and chest occupied us for a good quarter of an hour. His moans faded to the occasional whimper of pleasure and his eyes had long since closed. For now, I allowed him this small escape.
His arms posed no challenge, such was his relaxation. His hands, however, required special attention. The palms in particular were rich in nerves. Sean squirmed as we teased our thumbs across the sensitive cup. His eyelids fluttered. Folding up like a Muslim at prayer, I kissed the curled backs of his fingers. 'Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Time for the main course.' His eyes opened slowly, dazed and dark with hugely expanded pupils. His jaw worked on the gag. I reached behind his neck for the knot.
'Let's take this off,’1 said.
The whites of his eyes betrayed alarm. Good. He knew the massage had lulled him. Now he feared what he might say in the heat of the moment. Once the cloth was free, he pressed his lips together.
I promised myself that would do him no good.
Joe crawled into the space between Sean and the headboard. Crossing his legs, he lifted Sean's head on to his lap, setting it off-centre to allow room for his own erection. He stroked Sean's hair and murmured something sweet. Joe had a perfect view of his face - until Sean screwed his eyes shut.
'Ah-ah-ah.' I straddled his waist and lightly slapped his cheeks. 'No hiding, handsome.'
'Screw you,’ he said, the best comeback his trembling lips could manage.
'I intend to,’ I said. 'Nice and slow and sweet. And you know why? Because I really want you to feel good, Sean. I never expected to like you so much but now that I do, I want to reach straight inside and press our hearts together.'
He clenched his jaw. His hazel-green eyes glittered under a thin film of tears. Ruthless, I pressed the tender knife home. 'You're a good man, Sean Halloran. Better than you know.'