Lotus Tease

his bicep. "Hell yeah, competition sounds like my kind of foreplay," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the steaming water. I laughed, the sound half-nervous, half-excited, as Carol's fingers tightened around my dick under the bubbles, giving it a slow twist that made my toes curl against the tub's smooth edge. The hot tub's jets pulsed like a heartbeat, masking the subtle splashes of her hand working me, while David's thumb circled her clit with lazy precision. The night air cooled our faces, but down below, it was all heat—her skin slick against mine, the faint chlorine mixing with the tang of our earlier exertions. We'd fucked ourselves raw inside, but out here, under the stars peeking through the suburban canopy, the promise of more hung like an unfinished sentence.

Sunday morning crept in with the scent of rain on the horizon, the kind of gray dawn that makes you want to burrow back under the sheets. Carol woke me with her mouth, lips soft and insistent around my morning wood, her tongue flicking the underside like she was savoring a secret. David had crashed on the couch, snoring through the night, but by breakfast, he was up, pouring coffee in nothing but boxers that did little to hide his semi. We ate pancakes at the kitchen island—her in a robe that gaped open to tease her nipples, me in sweats, him shirtless with that tanned chest still marked from yesterday's scratches. "Last night was a solid eight," Carol said, licking syrup from her fork with deliberate slowness. "But next time? We're cranking it to eleven. I've got ideas." Her foot nudged my calf under the table, toes tracing up to my thigh, while David's gaze lingered on the way her robe slipped, exposing the curve of her breast. We didn't fuck then—too spent, too sated—but the tension simmered, a low boil promising eruption.

The week blurred into routine, but Carol's texts kept the fire stoked. "Thinking about tying you both up. Who begs better?" she'd send during my lunch break, attaching a photo of her in the salon mirror, skirt hiked to show lace panties soaked through. David chimed in on our group chat, his replies blunt: "I'll make him cry uncle first." Jealousy twisted in my gut, but it was the good kind now, laced with the thrill of her orchestration. By Friday, she'd set the date—our place, Saturday evening. "Wear something easy to rip off," she instructed me over the phone, her voice husky from a long day at work. I jerked off that night to the memory of her squirting on my face, David's cum still warm inside me, her laughter echoing as she commanded the cleanup.

Saturday arrived with a quirky twist: Carol had decorated the living room like a makeshift game show set, string lights draped over the furniture, a playlist of sultry jazz humming from the speakers. She'd dragged out an old poker table from the garage, covering it with a velvet cloth and scattering cards—not for gambling, but for her "competition." I arrived home from errands to find her in a sheer black teddy that hugged her curves like a second skin, the fabric translucent enough to show the dark peaks of her nipples and the shadow of her trimmed bush. "Strip and kneel," she said, pointing to the rug without looking up from arranging toys—vibrators, plugs, a set of leather cuffs that matched the ones from last time. My cock twitched at the command, memories of her femdom reveal flooding back, that dinner where she'd emerged like a goddess, owning us both.

David showed up at seven sharp, his knock muffled by the jazz. He stepped in wearing a button-down that strained over his pecs, jeans low on his hips, a bottle of wine in hand like this was a casual date. But his eyes darkened when he saw Carol, striding over to pull her into a deep kiss, his hand fisting the teddy's strap to yank it down, exposing one breast. She broke away with a gasp, shoving him playfully toward the table. "Not yet, champ. Tonight, you and George compete for the prize." Me? I was already naked, kneeling as ordered, my dick half-hard and bobbing as I watched them. The dynamic had shifted—last time I'd been the sole focus, bound and taken; now, she was pitting us against each other, her confident power on full display, the same vibe from those salon massages where she'd undressed completely, letting David's hands roam under George's watchful eye. But this was ours, intimate and escalating.

"Rules are simple," Carol announced, circling the table like a ringmaster, her hips swaying to the music. She cuffed our wrists behind our backs first—mine with a click that echoed my poolside restraint, his with a grin that said he was game. "No hands. You use mouths, tongues, whatever you've got. First one to make me cum wins round one. Loser gets plugged and watches." David's laugh was rough, eyes flicking to me with competitive heat. "You're on, but I'm burying my face in that pussy till she screams." I swallowed, the ropes from last weekend ghosting my skin, but the challenge lit a fire—proving myself to her, even against him.

She hopped onto the table, legs spread wide, the teddy pulled aside to bare her pussy, already glistening under the lights. "George starts," she said, beckoning me with a finger. I shuffled forward on my knees, the carpet rough against my skin, and dove in—tongue flat and broad, lapping from her entrance to her clit in long, slow strokes. She tasted like salt and desire, her folds parting under my assault, a soft moan escaping as I sucked her nub gently, then harder, flicking with the tip. No hands meant I had to grind my face closer, nose buried in her heat, inhaling her musk while my cock throbbed untouched. David watched, shifting on his knees, his dick tenting his jeans. "That's cute," he muttered, but his voice had an edge, hungry.

Carol's fingers tangled in my hair, guiding me deeper. "Fuck, yes—circle it, baby." I did, tongue swirling her clit while I probed lower, dipping into her wetness, the sounds wet and obscene over the jazz. She bucked against my mouth, thighs trembling, but then she pushed me back. "Time. David, your turn." He didn't waste a second, crawling forward with that buff frame flexing, his mouth descending like a storm. Where I'd been teasing, he was aggressive—lips sealing around her clit, sucking hard while his tongue lashed side to side, relentless. Carol's head fell back, a guttural "Oh shit" spilling out as he hummed against her, the vibration making her hips jerk. He alternated, thrusting his tongue inside her like a mini-fuck, then nipping her inner thighs, marking her with light bites that had her gasping. Jealousy flared as I watched, my own arousal leaking pre-cum onto the floor, but fuck, it was hot—her confidence shining, owning this game just like when she'd invited him for that first dinner surprise.

She came on his tongue, not mine—body arching off the table, a sharp cry as she squirted, her juices splashing his chin and the cloth below. "David wins round one," she panted, legs quivering. He pulled back smirking, face shiny with her release, while she slid off the table to fetch the plug—a medium silicone one, curved for that perfect prostate hit. "Loser gets prepped." She lubed it generously, the scent cutting through the air, then bent me over the table's edge, ass up. The intrusion was cool at first, then filling as she worked it in slow twists, my hole clenching around the base. "Good boy," she whispered, patting my cheek. David watched, stroking himself through his jeans, eyes on the way it stretched me. The fullness ached sweetly, a constant tease against my dick, which swung heavy and ignored.

Round two: "Now you compete to make each other hard without touching your own cocks. Winner gets to fuck me first." We knelt facing each other, cuffed hands useless, the plug shifting inside me with every move. David went first, leaning in to capture my mouth in a bruising kiss—tongue invading, tasting of her pussy, his stubble scraping my chin. He broke away to trail bites down my neck, sucking a mark just below my collarbone, then lower, latching onto my nipple with teeth that grazed just shy of pain. My dick surged, fully hard now, the plug amplifying every sensation as blood rushed south. "Fuck, you're getting into it," he growled, nuzzling my balls without touching, his hot breath making them tighten.

I countered, pushing him back onto his haunches, my mouth on his chest—licking the salt from his skin, biting his pec like he'd done to her during that oiled massage I'd watched. He groaned, cock straining against his zipper, but I upped it, nosing down to mouth his shaft through the denim, the fabric dampening with his pre-cum. No hands, so I used my teeth to tug the zipper down, freeing his thick dick to slap against his abs. I didn't suck—just breathed on it, lips brushing the head without contact, watching it twitch and leak. Carol circled us, her teddy discarded now, naked and fingering herself lazily. "Look at you two, all pent-up and pretty. George's got the edge—watch how he teases."

David flipped the script, shoving me onto my back and straddling my thighs—his cock inches from mine, grinding air between us as he leaned to suck my earlobe, whispering, "Bet I can make you beg." His mouth moved to my inner thigh, tongue tracing veins, so close to my balls I could feel the heat, but never quite there. It was torture, my hips bucking involuntarily, the plug grinding my spot with each shift. I was leaking steadily now, a pool forming on my stomach, but he was too—his dick weeping, veins pulsing. Carol called it: "Tie. Both of you are sluts for this." She uncuffed us, but only to rebind our arms to the table legs, asses up side by side. "Now the real fun—I'm riding the winner, but first, you both get a taste of defeat."

She lubed her fingers, sliding one into David's ass first—he grunted, pushing back like the rough player he was, memories of her rimming him during our threesome haze flickering in my mind. Then her into me, alongside the plug, stretching until I moaned, the dual fullness making my cock drip onto the velvet. "Finger each other," she ordered, guiding David's hand to my hole, mine to his. His digit was thick, callused, probing deep to curl against my prostate while I mirrored him, feeling his tight ring clench around me. We worked in tandem, slick sounds filling the room, her laughter breathy as she watched, one hand on her clit. "That's it—fuck each other like that. Who breaks first?"

David did, his rhythm faltering as I twisted just right, his cock jerking untouched, pre-cum stringing to the floor. "Shit—George, you sneaky fuck." Carol declared me the winner, pulling the plug from me with a pop and positioning herself over my face again—no, wait, she straddled my back reverse, guiding my cock into her pussy from behind while I stayed bound. The angle was awkward but perfect, her wetness enveloping me in one slick slide, walls fluttering as she rocked. David watched, still fingering himself, then she beckoned him forward. "Suck him while I ride," she told him, and he obeyed, mouth engulfing my balls as they slapped her ass, tongue occasionally darting to where we joined, tasting her juices on my shaft.

She bounced harder, tits swaying, one hand reaching to stroke