The Lover's Children

Chapter 113 – Autumn’s Fury – Part 5

MICHAEL

In the basement, candles lit, fire glowing, we assemble around the four-poster bed. Beth and Charlotte

both wear light robes, covering whatever they have underneath.

Noticeably, Beth is barefoot, her make-up lightly applied. Charlotte wears boots. Dagger-heeled, they

put her at eye-level with me and four inches above her cousin. Her lips are painted fuck-me scarlet and

she’s shaded her eyes dark around their vivid green irises.

James stands behind Charlotte, hands resting at her waist. I stand behind Beth. Both women face

Richard. His eyes dart between the pair. He knows something’s going on, but hasn’t yet divined what.

Reaching around, I unravel Beth’s belt, letting the robe fall open, then slip it from her shoulders. His

eyes soften at the sight of his lovely wife: naked, head lowered, hands clasped, her long hair swinging Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

loose. The perfect submissive.

James loops an arm around Charlotte’s waist and kisses into the crook of her neck, whispering

something into her ear. Richard watches, transfixed, as he tugs the belt away, slides the wrap free,

then stands back a couple of paces, eyes creasing.

Holy Fuck…

James cants his head as he takes in what his ‘sub’ has chosen to wear for the evening. Richard’s face

goes slack.

Charlotte is not naked, and whatever she paid for the outfit, it was worth every penny.

The boots, a fine, soft, black leather, thigh-high, match the top. Not quite a vest, not quite a corset, it

hugs her figure. Pinching in her waist, it mounds her breasts and deepens her cleavage. Silver buckles

hold the front tightly closed…

That’ll give James itchy fingers…

Her waist is tightly belted in, the ‘belt’ supporting a series of leather straps, barely clearing her crotch

and, while giving the effect of a skirt, allowing her more freedom to move than a skirt would. As she

moves, from the flash of fire at her loins, I’d say she’s not wearing anything under there.

“Happy Birthday, Richard,” I say. “I’d say it’s going to be a good one.”

He blinks, shifting his gaze to his naked wife and sub. “Elizabeth?”

Her eyes twinkle. “Happy Birthday, Master.”

Richard's brow knits. “So what...?”

But Beth is still speaking.

“For my birthday, Master, you gave me Michael. Now, I'm giving you Charlotte. Or to be precise, me

and Charlotte together.”

I've seldom seen Richard with the wind out of his sails.

“But, James and Michael...”

James sucks in his cheeks. “Oh, we're along for the ride, should you decide you need assistance.” He

strolls to the side table, pulls out a chair. “Michael, red wine or white?”

“What are you serving with it?”

“I set out the cheeseboard and some crackers.”

“Oh, it’s got to be red then. Rioja?”

“Absolutely.”

Beth stands to one side, head demurely lowered. Nonetheless, behind a curtain of hair, a smile lurks.

No, a grin…

Richard darts glances between the two women like a man hunted. “Charlotte?”

She swaggers up close, hips swinging, chin raised. “Happy birthday, Richard.” There is nothing of the

submissive about her. Her face almost level with the Dom, she meets him eye-to-eye. “Beth asked me

to help in giving you your birthday present.”

“Charlotte, I’m not sure…”

But she’s already unravelling his tie.

Beth’s grin is wicked.

A little bit of revenge?

For introducing her to Michael the way he did?

Richard’s not quite backing away. On the other hand, with the wall right behind him, where’s he going

to go?

The tie falls loose, then slides out from under the collar as Charlotte eases it free. She holds it across

her hands, the ends dangling. “Beth did wonder if you might enjoy a complete role reversal.”

Richard’s jaw drops…

“… but I told her I thought that would be too much for you, even for a special occasion.”

Charlotte’s grinning too, and there’s a sparkle in her eye that’s been missing the last few weeks.

Beth’s instinct was good…

This is what she needed…

Plain, good old-fashioned fun…

Richard casts a helpless look my way.

“Don’t look to me for help,” I chuckle. “You’ve dropped a surprise on me more than once. It’s your turn.”

Charlotte works on his shirt buttons, flipping them open one by one as she works down from the neck,

over ribs and belly. The shirt falls open and she strokes over skin and a scatter of iron-grey hair. “You’re

a good-looking man, you know, Richard. Very appealing.”

Her fingers trace the line of his breastbone, slide down over belly and navel, then follow the narrowing

line of hair which vanishes under his belt.

“Take the shirt off, Richard.” He licks his lips, then obeys, leaving himself bare-chested

Her gaze drops as she fingers at the buckle. Richard’s mouth works. His Adam’s apple bobs.

Nonetheless, Charlotte struggles with the belt as he bulges to the fore, stretching the fabric of his pants

tight.

He’s colouring up, a fine sheen of perspiration adding a shine to his forehead. The belt finally

surrenders. The zipper rasps down.

Hands plant themselves, palms flat, to Richard’s chest, steering him, then propelling him backward to

the bed. “Christ, Charlotte…”

“Be quiet, Richard,” she suggests. At the edge of the bed, his knees pressed back against the

mattress, she shoves hard… and he overbalances, falling back onto the bed.

Beth gasps, slapping a palm over her mouth, eyes wide with laughter…

Or incredulity…

Beside me, James snorts a laugh too. “If she'd not met you,” I murmur, “Charlotte could so easily have

turned out as a Domme.”

His eyes slant to mine, humour creasing the corners. “Why don’t we agree that between us we trained

up a Switch?” He scrapes butter across a cracker, then lifts the cheese bell, his knife hovering between

a wedge of Stilton and a chunk of Roquefort. Adding a thin slice of the Stilton, he pops the cracker into

his mouth whole, crunching loudly before washing it down with Rioja as he watches the show.

“Beth,” says Charlotte. “Get your husband ready for me.” She stands, legs akimbo, fists on hips,

watching as Beth scutters to obey…

Christ, but you look good…

The leathers she’s wearing emphasise firm thighs, the skin gleaming gold in the firelight, and strap-like

arm and shoulder muscles. Her cloud of copper hair sways and shimmers with every move.

Beth works busily, unlacing Richard’s shoes, tugging at his trousers until he lies naked on the bed, his

erection twitching like a metronome. She looks to Charlotte again, whose lips quirk and jump. “Carry

on.”

Beth sits to one side of her husband, stroking his thighs, his stomach, anywhere but his cock.

Charlotte stalks to James’ toy racks - beside me, James shifts, his breath hissing in - Richard’s eyes

widen and starts to sit up, but Charlotte whirls, levelling a finger at him... “Stay!” … and he flops back.

Stooping, Beth ahhhhs warm breath over his groin. The twitching shaft jumps and its owner groans, but

his gaze is wary as Charlotte strolls back, a flogger swishing in her hand, the tails a soft, fine leather. In

the boots, she’s close to six feet tall, towering over him.

“Charlotte…”

Raising a finger to her lips, she trails the falls over his chest… “Shhh…” She moves around him,

caressing him with the leather, the barest of touches. The tails ripple through his chest hair, to glide

over the smoother skin of his shoulders.

He shivers, his breath catching… “Christ…” His shaft jumps. Charlotte’s cheeks suck in and she

glances at me, then James.

I mutter behind my hand. “She’s enjoying this.”

James mutters back. “Could be some interesting repercussions later on.”

The flogger traces a circle, winding over stomach and thighs, then moving in, spiralling in on the groin,

closer and closer to where, purple-red, blue-veined and seeping, Richard’s shaft shudders to a

pulsebeat. With a twist of the wrist, she flicks the tails at his balls, the softest of kisses of leather on

skin. He jolts and yells, but she’s already caught him again, this time squarely on his erection.

I chuckle. “I wonder if you thought this through before you agreed to Beth’s suggestion.”

James rumbles quietly.

But Richard is shaking violently, streaming sweat, panting uncontrollably.

Charlotte Hmmphs satisfaction, tosses the flogger to one side and swings down onto the bed, swings

again to straddle him.

Richard lurches, grabbing at her hips, trying to draw her down onto his shaft. But she lurches back,

swatting at his hands as she settles her weight over him. “Down, Boy.”

Kneeling upright, she works at the top buckle of her vest, sliding black through silver until it loosens.

Richard watches, transfixed.

Charlotte’s breasts press for freedom and carefully, pulling back the leather frontage, left, then right,

she lifts them free, full and heavy, flushed and gleaming, supported by the peeled-back flaps of leather.

Sweeping waist-length tresses behind herself, she cups herself, thumbing at nipples already crinkled

hard. “Would you like to play with them?”

He nods, reaching up, fingers outstretched, kneading and massaging. Charlotte hisses appreciation,

then twists back, nodding to Beth. “But you’re not to let him come.”

“How are you doing?” I murmur.

James shifts in his seat, crossing, then uncrossing his legs. “Going to have to get out of my pants soon

or I’m going to shoot inside them. You?”

“’bout the same.” I slip another three or four biscuits onto my plate. “Is there any of that Camembert we

had the other day?”

“No…” He chews and swallows… “We finished it off, but there’s a Brie we could crack open. And some

cranberry salsa that should work well with it.”

“Sounds good. Where is it?”

He jerks a thumb to the back. “Cold box.” He pauses. Considers. “You could fetch the olives too.”

Standing and walking is a complex operation. The human form was never intended to walk on three

legs.

By the time I return with the Brie, Beth is working Richard’s purpled erection, tracing her tongue-tip

around the ridge. His balls cradled in one palm, she squeezes and rolls. The other hand rings his shaft

at the base as all the while, she tongues over the crown in a flickering motion that has me twitching and

jerking in sympathy.

“Elizabeth…” Richard tries to sit up, but with Charlotte now astride his chest, it’s not going to happen.

Charlotte slips hands over her belly to tangle with the golden-red hair at her loins. Richard’s gaze

follows the hands down, then in, as she dips between her thighs. Plunging deep for a moment, she

withdraws glistening fingers. “Open your mouth. Suck me clean.”

“Not often you see two subs topping a Dom,” I comment, loudly this time. Richard rolls eyes my way,

Charlotte wiping pussy juices over his lips.

“Enjoying yourself, Beth?” My ‘other wife’ throws me a grin the like of which hasn’t been seen since Eve

discovered Adam liked apples too.

Charlotte twists to see what her cousin is doing. “Yes?”

Beth flashes brows, shifts... “Yes.”

… Richard’s head jerks up. “What…?”

… but he’s cut short as Beth, moving like a dancer, swings smoothly to kneel upright, straddling herself

to anchor the head of her husband’s shaft against her pussy. Richard bucks, trying to penetrate…