Page 3 of Boo-ty Calls

Three

Sloane

I’m thankful we have a dynamic that suits us, because I’d hate to have to come up with punishments all the time when Archer bypasses the rules and fuels my desire to melt under his hands.

The nights when he can’t keep his hands off me and gives me an epic night of orgasms, or when we’re out and he teases me to the edge. I’m glad I don’t always have to get him in trouble, and we continue to grow in our relationship.

Glancing over my shoulder, his hungry stare looks back at me. I’m surprised he chose tonight to come. Usually he likes to jerk off while I ride another cock and humiliate him.

Archer takes his time, grabbing my hips and lining himself and the toy up. I hold still, waiting for him to fill me.

Each new cock sleeve tests our boundaries, and I love how he is creative in finding tools that align with my desires and wants.

As each ridge enters me, it’s bliss. Archer reaches forward and wraps his hand around my two braids before slamming into me. The width of this cock sleeve is amazing, and I reach beneath us to play with my clit, thrusting back against him.

I tighten around him and tense as my orgasm rushes through me.

“Goddess, you look so good when you cum,” he whispers in my ear.

“Don’t stop, fill me.” I brace my arms in front of me and grip the duvet.

Archer's thrusts become jerky, and I know he won’t last long. His fingers dig into my plush hips, and he groans out in ecstasy.

With a deep breath, he leans forward and kisses along my spine. His soft touch is needed after our night.

After a session, it’s the little things that keep me grounded. Sometimes I worry I’ve gone too far, or I’m too mean, but when he praises me silently with his touch, all the fear melts away.

“I’ll run the bath,” he says before pulling away from me.

“Good boy.” I roll onto my back and gaze at his muscular, tattooed form as he moves around the room.

“See, if you had this, I wouldn’t need anyone else.” I hold the long zucchini and nod at his shorts.

Archer bites the inside of his lip but says nothing, filling our cart with the produce for the week. “It’s okay, you’re perfect.” I hold my fingers inches apart and lean over to kiss his cheek.

“If I buy you a sweet treat, will you stop today?” he asks me, and I arch an eyebrow.

“I always get a sweet treat. Don’t act like I don’t. What’s up? Calling yellow?”

We’ve been using the light system since we started in this dynamic, because safe words were harder to remember.

Archer also uses them when he’s over my shit and I’m inching closer to becoming too mean. He gives me free reign for the most part, but when it’s too much, he is good at telling me instead of letting it fester and become a problem.

“No… nothing.” He steers the cart toward the self-checkout.

“Arch, we don’t do that.” I hurry to catch up with him.

Silently, he rings the groceries through, and I pack them in the cloth bags, wearily staring at him, wondering what I did wrong.

We’ve got a good thing together, but past relationships always leave their mark on you.

Grabbing all of the bags from my hands, he nudges the cart toward me, and I slam it into the corral of them. It’s one of my little pleasures in life, pushing the cart as hard as I can until it crashes into the others. Archer always rolls his eyes, but never stops me.

After we get into the car, I reach over and grab his hand. “Babe, seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Just got in my head. It’s nothing.”

“No, I’ll cancel tonight, and we’ll deal with this. Miscommunication isn’t the trope we follow, and it never will be. Every strand of our web of games is fragile, and I won’t let you bruise under your thoughts.” I lower the volume on the radio and turn on the air conditioning.

“I don’t know, Sloane. Every other time you’ve done that finger thing, it makes me hard. Today felt weird. I can’t explain it.”

Reaching over to him, I stroke the hair off his forehead and launch myself closer to kiss his lips. “I’ll scale back for a while.”

“Don’t cancel tonight. I’m excited. I’m sorry for getting in my head.” He starts the car, and I put on my seatbelt.

Archer kisses my neck, then wraps his hand around my headrest to look out the back before pulling out of the space.

“We can’t be sorry for our feelings. We have them for a reason, like everything else. Just use your words next time. I’ll never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”

It’s true, I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it. He makes my darkest days brighter and always knows when I’m overstimulated before I do and knows how to reach parts of me I didn’t know needed someone.

“Promise I’ll use my words in the future. Did you want to have a nap when we get home?”

I glance at the clock on the dash and stare out the window, calculating everything I need to do. “No, there isn’t time. I’ll chug an energy drink and it’ll be okay.”

We pass by cookie-cutter subdivisions until we turn onto our road, and the places are more spaced out. It’s not a fancy house, but it’s ours, and that’s what matters.

“Darling, I’ll do dinner and worry about the chores if you want to get your rest.”

Archer is so good to me, but I squeeze his bicep and shake my head before getting out of the car.

We fight over who can carry the groceries inside, and he wins, as per usual.

“I have some work to catch up on, and then after we eat, it’ll be time to get ready.”

The afternoon sun has passed over the front of our house, and a gentle breeze flows through my hair. I told him yesterday I didn’t have to work today, and it’s mostly true. Just a few things to finish, and I’ll be ready.

“You said…” he huffs out as we reach the stoop.

“I know what I said, but I forgot something. It'll be fast, don’t worry. I’ll be done by the time you’ve gotten the groceries away and work on dinner.”

“It’s sandwiches, not rocket science.”

I unlock the door and roll my eyes. Archer disappears into the kitchen, and I head to my office. Booting up my computer, I make sure every email is blind carbon-copied and send them out. Setting my email to away status until tomorrow, I close everything down.

Walking into the kitchen, I flip on the fan and head to the fridge for an energy drink. “I’ll start the bath and see you there?”

Archer nods and goes back to making sandwiches, cutting off the crusts exactly like I love.

Tonight, Mason is coming over. He's been our third for a long time. He’s flexible in what we do and dominates me in the exact way I need.

Stripping off the clothes from today, I walk into the bathroom and fill the bath. Tying my hair, I think about tonight and what we’ll get up to.

We only include a bull or third every other month, usually, although I’ve thought about mentioning it to Archer for our fifteenth anniversary. Sinking into the hot water, I wonder if it’s something we should do or if the focus should be on only us.

“Here, I ate mine already. I’m going to go use the other bathroom and shower, and I’ll be back to get you ready.” Archer’s words interrupt my thoughts as he hands me a meat and cheese sandwich before heading out the door.

Leaning against the cold porcelain, I take a bite of the sammy, thinking about what to get for our anniversary. It’s not for another month, but I like to get weird things, and they need to be bought early.

He’s always loved the skulls and horror items I’ve gotten him. Archer is the perfect amount of nerdy and what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-you. Last year, I got him comic books he lost when he was a kid, and a six-foot figurine of his favourite horror character.

Our living room is basically horror central. He made me a coffin coffee table one year, and the white couches with black throw blankets make the rest of the room.

This bathroom needs to be repainted. I love the relaxing part of a bath, but the rest sucks. I can never pay attention long enough to read a book like some of my friends do, and I’m left with my thoughts while sitting in my human soup.

“Ready?”

“Thank god, I was fucking spiralling.” I hand him the plate and rise out of the tub to the marble corner, sitting with my legs spread.

“Again?” Archer asks as he takes out the shaving cream and lathers my legs before shaving them for me.

“Yeah, it always happens. One day I might even have a bath that doesn’t make me feel like carrots and potatoes should be added.”

Archer laughs as he washes off the cream, before coating my mound in it and focusing closely on my parts as he shaves me.

He’s been doing this for years, and while it’s intimate as fuck, it helps me not have to twist into a pretzel to try to do it myself. Nothing like having tits and a stomach to not be able to see your parts to tidy them up the way you want.

“Perfect. Mason is going to be lucky tonight.”

He stands back, and I dip back into the bath for a minute before pulling the plug. Draining the water and the energy drink, I rest the can on the counter. “You know you’ll get a taste as well,” I tell him and pat his cheek before heading out into the bedroom.

Lying on the bed after a quick towel off, I air-dry. It’s my favourite thing, and it’s one of the many reasons we don’t want children. I’d never be able to give up my lifestyle for shitty diapers and a snot-nosed little asshole.

“Darling, do you know what you want to wear tonight?”

I toy with the edge of the towel before glancing at him. A dark grey shirt hugs his muscles, tattoos line his arms, and my favourite skull tattoo covers the top of his hand. If only he felt more comfortable giving me hand necklaces.

“What about the black and pink baby doll?” I like to wear softer items sometimes when I know I’ll be dominated.

It’s like a costume change that helps me get into the mindset. When I’m with Archer, I wear a lot of clothes and makeup, which makes me feel badass to keep the energy going.

I fluff out my hair from the humidity in the bathroom and decide against dolling up tonight.

Archer heads into the walk-in closet and returns with my outfit and hands me thigh-high stockings. I roll into a sitting position and give him an unamused look while holding my leg up.

With a smirk, he takes back the stocking before rolling it on my thigh. His warm touch heats me, and the rattle through me is from more than the energy drink. He continues until they’re both on.

“Good boy,” I say and stroke his face. Grabbing the black thong, I stand and wiggle into it.

Placing the soft pink baby doll over my body and tightening the black strings, I gaze at him before swirling around.

“Goddess, beautiful.”

“You know it, such a lucky man you are.” I wink before heading out of the bedroom to the kitchen to hydrate.

Archer will set the bedroom the way I like, laying out toys and setting the chair from the guest room in the corner of ours.

There's a knock at the door, and I pad to the hall to open it.

“Mason.”

“Sloane. Damn, girl.” He looks at me from head to toe. I melt under his gaze and squeeze my thighs together.

We walk to the kitchen together, and I lean against the island, handing him a bottle of water as he sits on a stool and shrugs out of his leather jacket.

“Regular things or something new tonight?”

I think about it for a minute. “Usual. He’ll be waiting for us. How’s life been?”

His powerful hand grips the bottle as he takes a swig. “Work, gym, sleep, repeat. Same shit, different fucking day. You?”

“About the same,” I say and shrug.

I’m way too fucking awkward for this small talk. How I manage to keep a relationship going is beyond me.

“Is he taking part tonight?”

I glance into his dark brown gaze. “Not as much as usual. He’s having an off day, but didn’t want to cancel. I’ll take everything, though.”

“Yeah, have you been a good girl?”

I blow out a breath and roll my eyes. “Of course. I’m always good.”

“Sloane, you’re capable of being a domme and a brat, being the goodest girl is a little out of your reach, eh?”

Crossing my arms, I huff and pout, knowing he’ll be calculating every spanking in his head. “Rude, I’m so fucking good.”

Mason doesn’t continue talking, instead, he moves off the stool and around the island to press me against the cold steel of the fridge.

“You’re gonna show me how good you are."