Duncan Fox: Spread wide and tied

"Grant said he was going to punish her for being late so much," Wil went on. "We shouldn't be there for that."

"Why shouldn't we? If they don't mind?" Clara asked.

"Grant plays kind of rough," Wil answered. "He kind of scares me sometimes."

"Shit. You're just chicken!"

"Watch that," Wil growled.

"Or you'll do what?" Clara taunted, again put off by Wil's lack of forcefulness.

"Just watch it," Wil repeated.

Clara let the subject drop, and instead thought back to the previous weekend. It hadn't been an orgy, really. But it had come close enough for her first time. Then she thought about the way Lois had sucked Grant's cock. The memory of his hard meat between Lois' lips did things to Clara's insides. Grant had been so totally in charge, too. He had clutched Lois' hair and forced her head up and down. His hips had heaved, thrust his cock into her.

The fuck Clara and Wil had shared after that had been their best ever. Better than the slow one the next morning. For a change Wil had been demanding, impatient. But after that night he had gone back to being his usual polite, timid self.

"Fourteenth Street," Wil noted as the train squealed to a hilt. "Next stop."

"You've been to her place before?" Clara asked.

"No, but the directions are rather simple."

At the Fourth Street Station he led her up the maze of ramps and out on to the slushy sidewalk. Then minutes later they were on the top floor of an old loft, and he was ringing the bell at a shining, jet black door. The air was thick with the smell of incense.

The door opened and let loose a blast of music. Lois smiled and yelled something over her shoulder about turning down the volume. She was dressed more exotically than before, though just as erotically. Her shining black hot pants were tightly molded to the roundness of her butt. The bib top left her back completely bare. It fastened at the nape of her neck. It was made of a translucent black stretch lace that covered, but did not conceal, her large, firm breasts.

The music sank to a bearable level, and Lois turned back to them. Clara felt Wil reacting to Lois' sexy outfit, and her aggravation with him increased.

"Doesn't the noise bother the neighbors?" Clara asked, then felt foolish when she recalled that with the door shut, not a whisper had leaked out.

"Not the way I had the place soundproofed," Lois answered. "And besides, there aren't any neighbors."

Clara controlled her urge to tell Wil to stop ogling their hostess and turned her attention to the apartment. It had two rooms, apparently. The one they were in was a living room. It was garishly decorated with strange modernistic paintings and sculpture. Brightly colored pillows of all sizes were scattered over the thick black carpet.

"C'mere, Baby," Grant told Lois. His fingers closed around her ponytail, held her for his kiss. Lois leaned back. Her hands were submissively at her sides as her mouth locked with his. Enviously, Clara studied the domineering lust behind the kiss.

"HI, troops," Grant said cheerfully after breaking the kiss with Lois. He didn't release his grasp on her hair. "Come on, let's go into the studio. Got some good grass tonight."

The studio was even more intriguing then the living room. One huge wall was mirrors. A ballet bar bisected them. At the other end of the room slanting windows revealed the velvet night sky. An easel and paints stood in one corner.

"You paint?" Clara asked Lois, somehow surprised.

"Lois is all things to all people. Aren't you, Babe?" Grant asked her. As she mumbled her agreement, he gave her a pat on the rump and told her to go get the wine. "Lois is an artist, a model, a dancer, and an actress. But above all, a woman."

"It's not hard to see that," Wil said headily. Clara glanced at him sourly.

"Did she furnished this place?" Clara asked.

"Used to be a dance studio and an art school," Lois answered, coming back into the room. "I just asked a few… special features of my own."

As they lounged around talking, Clara wondered what special features Lois meant. She began feeling more favorably inclined toward Wil. He pulled her to him, and curled his hand around the underside of her breast. She was glad she had worn her short lace dress. In it, even though she was wearing bra and panties, she was almost able to compete with Lois. Clara deliberately let the skirt ride up on her thighs and snuggled against Wil. She wished he'd move his hand over her breast. She wanted Grant to know Lois wasn't the only wanton in the world.

"Are you going to beat me for being so late?" Lois asked Grant during a lull in the conversation.

"Of course," Grant said quietly, his eyes locked on hers.

"When?" she asked in her soft, breathy voice. Her big tits were rising and falling tensely. Her nipples were hard as rocks.

"Now," Grant answered.

"Clara?" Wil whispered.

"Oh, shut up, will you?" Clara snapped. "They want us here. Watch! You might learn something."

"Don't hurt me too much," Lois pleaded softly. "No more than you deserve, Baby! Go let down the hook."

"Yes, Grant," Lois whispered, raising gracefully to her feet. She undid a rope from a cleat on the wall and a length of chrome chain descended from the ceiling. After lowering it until it was about four feet off the floor, she handed the end of the rope to Grant.

Clara's chest tightened as Lois obeyed Grant's next calm order. She walked over to the hook, and turned to face them. She fumbled with the end of the chain, and with the black leather ornament that was braided into her hair.

When she lowered her hands to her sides, Grant took a deep drag on the marijuana. He pulled on the rope, and Lois' hair rose. There was a flash of pain on her face as she went up on her toes. Clara felt a wrench of sympathy in her guts, a twinge in her scalp, and a hot sizzling in her pussy.

"Here, hold this," Grant ordered, handing the rope to Wil.

"No, I…"

"I will," Clara said quickly, grabbing the rope out of Grant's hands. "Chicken," she hissed at Wil.

"Let's get out of here," Wil said softly as Grant got up.

"Oh, shut up," Clara snorted, deliberately moving his hand up over her breast and pressing his palm into her soft mound. She wished she hadn't worn a bra.

Using the long, silky coil of Lois' hair, Grant tied her wrists together behind her neck. The position made her breasts lift almost out of her sheer top. Clara felt Wil's grasp on her own boob tighten. She saw a faint cloud of marijuana smoke drift from his mouth. She sucked in a deep drag of her own, and felt her mind fogging as the grass did its work.

Grant took the rope from Clara and wound it around the cleat. Then he stripped off his shirt, and was naked to the waist. His torso was strongly muscled and hard. Clara wriggled lower in Wil's grasp and leaned back against him. She carefully squirmed her dress up so her panties were exposed, then parted her legs a little. Feeling a powerful desire to be in the same position Lois was, Clara sucked in a deep draught of smoke which increased her horniness.

Much to her surprise, Wil reached down and hauled her loose dress up. He bared her panties, and finally her bra, as he bunched her dress under her arms. Grant caught sight of her near nakedness, and studied her boldly.

Then he turned to Lois and reached behind her neck. The front of her outfit dropped to her waist, exposed her magnificent globes. Lois looked up at Grant worshipfully as he fondled her bare jugs. Then he pinched her nipples, and her adoration was tinged with pain and lust.

The sight of Lois' tits really turned Wil on. His hands clutched Clara's tightly. His fingers dug into her through her bra. She reached behind her back with both hands, found the lump of his dick, and squeezed. With both hands behind her, she could pretend she too was bound helplessly.