Beautiful Disaster
Page 53

Bella picks up on his uncertainty just as I do, only for once she is the one who has to deal with it – and does, with uncommon gentleness in her voice, obviously talking as Bella now and not the sadistic librarian.
"Jazz, it's been twenty-three days. You two kiss, make out, grope each other, jerk each other off, give each other blowjobs, but then you always stop, and somehow I end up on the receiving end of everything else that follows. I really don't mind getting DP'd on a nearly daily basis, but it's so obvious that you're stalling – and just to be clear, I mean both of you – that I, at least, am getting tired of this. I think it's obvious that you both want this. Don't even try to deny it because right now I'm holding the obvious sign of your eagerness in my hand. If you really need an incentive, here you go. Put on a show for me, and make it worth those twenty-three days of my mind running wild."
He doesn't say anything but his answer is obvious when he straightens, visibly shaking off uncertainty and doubt.
"And just in case you missed the glaring neon sign, he doesn't want you to be nice and gentle and thoughtful – he wants to be fucked. So do both of yourselves a favor and fuck him," she helpfully supplies as she steps away from him, succinctly biting off the last two words of with such heat that my body almost physically responds to her demand. Jazz raises his brows at her questioningly but she doesn't react, silently telling him to just go ahead.
Turning away from him, she sits back down in her chair, relaxed but once again assuming that elegant yet confident position that she has shown so often today. She reaches into the drawer, takes out a bottle of lube and puts it down on the desk top, the sound strangely ominous.
As if that were a sign – which in a way it really is – Jazz breaks his momentary apathy and crosses the short distance between us. Gone is the hesitancy, gone is all the doubt; all that's left is horniness and his obvious intent to take his satisfaction where he can. He's rough as he grabs the hair at the back of my head and forces me to face him, almost sneering into my face as he pulls me close.
"You're going to suck me off now, bitch, and you better do a good job or I'll find something else besides my cock to ram up your ass!"
Normally I would have laughed at a sentence like that, but right now it makes my knees weak. That is not a bad thing as he pushes me down onto them a moment later, grabbing my head with both hands after he shoves his straining cock into my mouth. While I'm not exactly out of practice, his forcefulness surprises me and makes me choke. Instead of easing up, he holds me hard against him for several seconds while I struggle feebly, then only lets up long enough for me to draw a gasping breath. I love how he shows no mercy and starts ramming his cock into my mouth before I can start sucking on my own, and doesn't even ease up when I do my very best to add to his enjoyment.
The roughness of our motions does absolutely mean things to the weights still fixed to the connective chain of my nipple clamps, distracting me from the blowjob and giving him an excuse to be even more 'unsatisfied' with my compliance.
"Do you have something here that I can get his hands out of the way with?
He's struggling too much for my comfort."
From the edge of my field of vision, I see Bella get up but I can't concentrate on what she's fetching as Jazz resumes fucking my throat. I find out soon enough when the cool steel of a handcuff suddenly bites into my left wrist, then my right, as Bella pulls my arms together behind my back.
"Does our little fuck toy not like being used like this? Such a shame, because I love watching you like this," she purrs into my ear, then resumes her place as a spectator.
Jazz goes right on, obviously enjoying my increased degree of helplessness, and it doesn't take long until he shoves his cock into me as far as possible, and keeps my face pressed against his body while he shoots his load down my throat. I try to relax but eventually my gag reflex kicks in again, making me cough and sputter once he lets go, but he doesn't show any mercy.
He draws me to my feet by grabbing my right elbow, then drags me over to the desk. I grunt loudly when he slams my body against the sturdy wood, the edge digging into my thighs. He keeps holding me right there with one hand in my hair as he draws my head back painfully, exposing my neck to him. I shout again when he suddenly bites down on my shoulder in a weird display of dominance, but I can't deny that I get off on that, too. Keeping my head bent back and to the side like that, his other hand gropes for the nipple clamp chain, and yanks on it hard when he finally gets a grip on it.
My cry is one of real agony. I'm sure that if he realized just how much he's really hurting me, it would disturb him, but I'm quite happy with the fact that it doesn't. Things get even worse when he doesn't detach the first clamp neatly but pulls it off, then pinches my nipple deftly between his thumb and forefinger. I see Bella wince but she doesn't say anything, remaining sitting with her legs crossed and her fingers laced together over her knee.
I manage not to wallow like a baby when he removes the second clamp, but my nipples are still throbbing with pain when he pushes me down onto the table, his hand now at my neck to keep me down. He pushes my right knee upwards until it stays pressed into the wooden top, too. The move thankfully raises my ass a little more in the air and my cock is no longer wedged between table and my body. He briefly strokes it as he pushes it in the direction of my raised thigh.
More for show than anything else, I try to fight, but I'm helpless with my hands still cuffed behind my back. Instead of slapping my ass for that, Jazz grips my still weighted-down balls and pulls them further away from my body while at the same time squeezing them roughly, making me cry out –
and go still – again. He keeps up the pressure for a few more seconds, then increases it until I start struggling in earnest. Unlike Bella, he's a better judge of how far he can go there, and is quite happy to push that boundary.
I'm panting with relief when he lets go of my tortured balls. His grip on my neck remains even while he opens the bottle of lube with his other hand and pours a very liberal amount down my ass crack. I feel some of it dribble down my painfully extended scrotum, too. Before I can wonder if it was just an accident, he resumes kneading my balls deftly, if less painfully than before.
"You like that, don't you?" he observes, his voice a mean rasp in my ear as he leans into me. He switches from holding my neck to shoving my shoulders into the wood with one forearm pressing horizontally into my shoulder blades. I grit my teeth, trying not to make a sound, but it's a useless endeavor. My pants and grunts soon fill the air of the playroom.
The way my cock keeps rubbing against my thigh only increases the need to come, and I'm nearly there when the bastard stops.
Fuck, but sometimes I hate being a good teacher.
Jazz waits a while before he pours more lube between my ass cheeks, then starts to spread me open. He's neither gentle nor slow, starting with two fingers that he really has to work into me, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from shouting at him to stop being such a dick. Eventually my sphincter gives and I start to relax, enjoying the whole thing a lot more now.
He keeps pushing, jabbing three fingers fast and deep into me, and I'm already close to coming again when he stops and withdraws completely, also removing his arm from my upper torso.
For a moment I consider trying to rear up, but I really, really want his cock in my ass next, so I remain sweating and panting where I am. Jazz lubes up his dick while Bella still pretends to be mostly unaffected by what is going on right in front of her. I'm a little disappointed that she doesn't seem to want to finger herself while she watches us fuck, but it fits the role she's been playing perfectly – and somehow that cold curiosity is a huge turn-on, too.
Finally he's done stalling and I feel Jazz's cock slide into me, meeting little resistance after the delicious abuse I already suffered at his fingers. He doesn't dawdle, doesn't wait, but grabs my hips tightly and starts fucking me without further ado. The sheer power of his motions makes my body and the table underneath me rock while his balls slap against mine, the whole to and fro motion adding yet more pain to my scrotum as my balls swing with each of his thrusts.
I can't hold back and I don't even try, giving myself over to the climax. It nearly wipes out everything around me for a few seconds, then adds a heightened sensitivity to the sensations assaulting my body. Having come in my mouth not long ago, Jazz holds out a lot longer, pounding into me hard and fast until I feel like I can't stand it any longer before he orgasms himself. He sags down on top of me, completely spent in more ways than one, waiting until his slowly softening cock slides out of me.
I'm so tired that I don't even move when he pushes away from me, leaving me lying like that on the table. I'm still trying to gather my wits and strength when Bella gets up and removes first the cuffs, then the weights from the stretcher and finally the hellish thing itself. Unable to hold in the whimpers of pain anymore, I scrunch my eyes shut and ball my hands into fists as I tough out the final waves of pain, eased by her gentle hand massaging my tormented balls until I eventually fall silent.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed now and sleep curled around whoever comes close enough to grab – and maybe take a shower first, seeing as this time it's me ending up covered in sweat, come, snot and tears – but Bella quickly disabuses me of that notion. She throws my discarded clothes at me, telling me to get dressed. I stare somewhat balefully at her but she only answers with a nasty grin, still acting all unapproachable bitch.
When I'm finally done I join Jazz in front of her desk, not looking at him. I figure I might as well finish this with the minimum amount of roleplay as Bella has already made me get dressed again. We watch in silence as she shuts off the camcorder, then puts it into her desk before she sits back down and regards us levelly. With mirth I notice that she stays clear of the desk, the 'forms' on top now all crumpled and smeared with come, but that doesn't diminish the effect of the way she watches us at all.
"I think that went quite well," she surmises, allowing herself a small smile. "I expect that in the future you will pay better respect to the rules of this library. Just to be sure, I will keep the video file of this enlightening little tryst, and should either of you ever disturb the peace of these halls again or be late in returning your books, I will be very thorough in refreshing your memory. Although, if you feel the need for some extra credit, feel free to approach me about that in the future. Now off with you, I don't have the patience to keep wasting my time with imbeciles like you!"
Clearly dismissed, we both nod, then turn around and trudge out of the room. I close the door behind me without making much of a sound.
I haven't yet fully turned around when Jazz sags down onto the floor, obviously just as tired as I am, but with a huge grin on his face.
"Shit, I didn't think she could be that scary! Can you believe that?"
I give him a long look, then laugh, mostly at his incredulity.
"Dude, accept it, she's no longer the little girl whose pigtails you used to yank! Of course she can be scary as hell. She's probably just imagining how she herself would want to be barked at, to turn that around on us. And, by the way, do you ever intend to play with a guy other than me?"
My question seems to come out of the blue for him, and he clearly doesn't know how to take it.
"Not really. I meant it when I told you that aside from you, I think I'm still mostly straight. And I don't think I would want to play with another guy even if I found him attractive. I mean, for me, this is something personal, between us, and only the three of us."
"Good," I huff, then sit down beside him, wincing when my ass hits the floor. The whole region between my hips and my knees feels like a war zone, and while I love how the residual pain makes me feel, that doesn't mean that I also have to like all of the discomfort it brings.
Only when I relax do I realize that Jazz keeps staring at me a little weirdly.
At my raised brow, he narrows his eyes at me a little.
"Are you jealous? That I might someday want to play with someone else?"
"No!" I quip, then realize that both my tone now and the way I've asked the question could lead him to think just that. "No, I'm really not." I try to diffuse the situation, but when he keeps looking at me like he doesn't believe a word I say, I start laughing.
"Jazz, no. The reason I asked is because if you ever intend to play with someone who's not as much of a masochist as me, I'd have to drag you into the playroom now and show you, first hand, just how much what you did to me hurt. Plain and simple, it's a safety concern, not a passive-aggressive way of weaseling some kind of admission or promise out of you."
For a moment he grins with relief at the misconception, but then looks guilty.
"That bad? Shit, I didn't think... but you didn't really protest and I -"
"Stop rambling," I huff, then snort. "Of course I didn't protest. I was having the time of my life between her going all Ice Queen Bitch on me and you finally accepting and acting on your own dominant need. It was all well within the limits of what I can take, but it felt like you were caught up in the moment and somewhat oblivious of the pain you were causing, and it's my job to rub your nose in that now. You've still got a lot to learn, young Padawan."
As I've intended, he chuckles at the quote, then the quality of his gaze changes a little, the intensity rising. I don't have to wait long before he leans over and kisses me, finding me only too happy to participate.
Bella finds us like that a little while later, sweaty and tired on the floor, making out like two high school kids in the backseat of a car. Her amused laughter prompts us to break off and get up, and we dutifully follow after her as she walks through the bedroom and on towards the shower. On the way she discards the heels she's carrying in one hand while she unbuttons her blouse with the other.
If Jazz or I had been any less dead tired we might have tried to playfully get some payback from her now by undressing and teasing her, but as it is, we're barely able to keep standing upright and make it into the shower. She joins us once she has removed her own clothes, still grinning at us while she squeezes between us to reach her body wash. Not even her ass rubbing against my abused crotch makes me want to bend her over and fuck her. Well, maybe in a few hours, when I'm still sore but emotionally back to normal enough that I feel the need to wrestle control back from her.
Right now I'm happy to leave it at soaping up her tits while I stand behind her and kiss her slowly and tenderly.
Chapter 32
Ever since Thanksgiving I've been dreading Christmas, but it turns out that all the advance worrying and cringing is for naught.
For the first time in ages my parents have decided not to celebrate at home, but jet to Hawaii instead. I can see my mother's hand in that, but don't feel like complaining. In the card attached to the envelope she's left for us, she snidely comments that she's also 'giving us peace and quiet'
together with plane tickets and a hotel suite reservation for three for the week of the US Open of Surfing in Huntington Beach, California, the first week of August.
The rest of our collective family members we avoid like the plague, feeling childish about it, but Thanksgiving has left us uniformly weary. We've decided not to tell anyone yet that our happy threesome living arrangement feels like it's bound to stay permanent. Due to distance and busy schedules, Jazz drops out of seeing his folks, and Bella takes the drive to see Charlie and Sue alone, combining it with meeting someone for an interview in northern Oregon.
The week before Christmas, we are obliged to attend the various Christmas parties for our respective workplaces, but somehow the three of us always avoid showing up together. The fondue evening at Rose and Emmett's hardly counts as a social minefield, although some altercations ensue over dropped and supposedly stolen meat and vegetables. I call or email most of our other friends, and in the end there's only one glaring omission on that list – Alice.
The days around Christmas and New Years are spent in fear of the next phone call from one enraged relative or another, as Alice knows them all and is bound to talk to them. Her behavior at Thanksgiving dinner has shown that she's fully capable of planting the seeds of potential future disasters, but when the second week of January rolls around without Charlie knocking on our door, a sawed-off shotgun at the ready, I slowly start to relax.
Life is busy enough as it is, with extra shifts at the hospital, new coworkers, a second permanent assignment for Bella and plenty of projects for Jazz's budding business. Even if I had the time I wouldn't be able to meet with anyone, but as the weeks go by, I realize that the dissension with my closest friend of so many years is eating me up.
And it's not just me, or rather, my own grumpiness is slowly beginning to weigh on the others, too. Bella is starting to snap at me in every other conversation we have, few as they are because of my crazy work hours, and Jazz is acting weirdly at times. Only when we fuck do things seem to even out and return to a harmonic state, but even a horndog like me eventually realizes that this is not a good state to be in. Even less so when things are emotionally complicated to begin with.
And complicated they are. Although I'm trying to fight it, I find myself prone to being jealous of all the time Bella and Jazz get to spend together while I'm not around. I know that they don't fuck – not only because it should be obvious as their behavior towards each other hasn't changed at all, but also because Bella screams it in my face when I behave like an ass one evening and hint at them getting it on behind my back. She doesn't talk to me for three days afterwards – the first deliberately, and the next two because of a forty-hour shift - and then ignores my attempts to apologize.
Jazz tries to stay out of it but is obviously on her side. He only responds to my questions with short answers; his own disapproval is so plain in every word and every look that I feel even worse.
Somehow living together turns out to be a lot more work than any of us seemed to have expected.
But it's not only me who causes dissent. Bella and Jazz also do their own damage, keeping things less than harmonious between us as the weeks pass by. While not an issue at first, the severe lack of privacy is driving Bella mad, used as she is to spending her days on her own, and since we've been together, some of her nights, too. More than once I've come home to find them fuming at each other. Bella goes ballistic when Jazz spends a night at one of his business partners after working long past their sketchy business hours. Instead of being able to savor an evening together with just the two of us, she glares at me whenever I try to touch her. The moment Jazz returns in the morning, she's in his face. Stupid as I am, I try to pacify her even though I myself can't help but be a little suspicious of what he has been up to. When my patience finally snaps and I order her to shut up and go upstairs, I'm the one she ends up being mad at. I have to run to work so I try to ignore her baleful stares, and the merry tip-toeing around each other starts anew.