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“Baby?” Brooke calls as she comes in through the front door, wiping rainwater off her shoes and gingerly putting her drenched coat on the rack in the corner of the foyer. “Ness, you home?”
The woman behind Brooke snickers a little as Vanessa calls down that she’s coming, followed by fast, heavy footsteps running through the house. “Got her well-trained, huh?”
“You’ll see.” Brooke winks, but she doesn’t have time to say anything else—Vanessa’s footsteps have gotten louder and louder, closer and closer, and now they’ve stopped suddenly, signalling her arrival.
“Who’re you talking to?” Vanessa frowns deeply, and Brooke has to resist letting her heart speed up at the cautious, skeptical tone of Vanessa’s voice. It’s not like they hadn’t talked about this kind of thing before—they had at length, frequently fantasizing about what it would be like to have another woman act as a guest in one of their scenes. But that was fantasy—this is different. This is taking those hypotheticals and inviting them in, inviting them to become real.
Will Vanessa really be okay with this?
There’s only one way to find out, Brooke supposes.
“I brought home a little rainy night surprise for you.” Brooke smiles sheepishly as she steps into the house further, turns back to open the door a little wider and finally lets the other woman inside. “This is Shea.”
“Oh.” Vanessa breathes out softly as she looks up at the woman beside Brooke, who smiles cockily, slides off her coat and hands it to Brooke with a confident ease that makes even Brooke feel a little smaller, a little more vulnerable. A little mesmerized.
“Nice to meet you, Vanessa.” Shea extends a hand, eyes sparkling with bemusement as Vanessa takes it shyly, her eyes still wide, mouth dropped open. Perfect.
“Baby, I thought maybe Shea could play with us tonight, if you want. If not, that’s okay—she can leave, or she also agreed to stay for a drink or two if you just want to get to know her a bit better before you decide.” Brooke explains, worry creeping back into her chest as she examines Vanessa’s face for signs of discomfort, fear, anything that might indicate that Brooke has done the wrong thing, that she’s gone too far by inviting Shea here. “That okay with you?”
“Uh-huh.” Vanessa licks her lips, and the realization dawns on Brooke that Vanessa isn’t uncomfortable—she’s nervous . And from the way Shea is looking back at Vanessa, smile softening, Brooke knows that the other woman can tell too.
“I can play nice, I promise.” Shea teases, adding on with a little wink, “If you want me to, that is.”
Vanessa looks from Brooke to Shea, back to Brooke, and Brooke feels her heart stop, not because she’s not sure what will happen, because she knows, from the way Vanessa’s pupils are dilated and the way she’s shifting on her feet and the way she’s sliding her hands up and down her legs, exactly what she’s going to say.
“Brooke, can we bring our guest up to the bedroom?”
“ Please .” Shea corrects, but smiles nonetheless even as she pushes past both Brooke and Vanessa, almost as if she already knows where she’s going, “And from now on, call me mistress Shea.”
—
“Alright, here’s how it’s gonna work.” Shea looks around the bedroom, gesturing for Vanessa to get on the bed and shaking her head when Brooke goes to follow. “Usually I work on the stoplight system, but if you guys have another safe word, let me know.”
“We don’t,” Brooke shakes her head, “That’s our system too.”
“Awesome.” Shea nods before continuing, “Alright, so I had this discussion with Brooke already, but Vanessa, I want to confirm with you. Your limits are no feet, no sharps, no pee or scat, no spit from the neck up, and impact on the ass and thighs only. Right?”
“And no blindfolding.” Vanessa adds, shrinking back and blushing when she adds, “Well, Brooke can, but with you here, I wanna be able to see what you’re doin’ and what’s goin’ on.”
“Good to know.” Shea nods. “Okay, as for me, I don’t mind if you call Brooke mommy, but not me, okay? It’s gotta be mistress or miss, no other labels.”
“Sounds alright.” Vanessa nods.
“Sounds alright, what?” Shea smirks, her eyes twinkling, and the blush returns to Vanessa’s cheeks, her face burning with embarrassment.
“Sounds alright, mistress Shea.”
“Fast learner.” Shea winks over at Brooke, who giggles, the blonde’s grin only spreading when she looks back at Vanessa, spots the ever-intensifying beet redness on her wife’s face.
“Look.” Brooke nudges Shea, who grins in turn, her eyes moving from neutral to analytic and then to positively evil. Vanessa swallows hard, and that only seals her fate, the other woman closing in, taking a step forward and leaving Brooke watching with excitement behind her.
“We haven’t even started yet, sweetheart, you telling me you’re already getting flustered?” Shea doesn’t touch Vanessa, not yet, but she might as well have pushed Vanessa down, pinned her to the bed, because in that moment, Vanessa feels frozen, trapped. Paralyzed by the way Shea is running her tongue across her teeth and smirking and focusing so intently on her prey and—
“Eyes on me, baby girl. Focus.” Shea tilts Vanessa’s chin so that their eyes meet, and suddenly, Vanessa’s forgotten how to breathe, because eye contact has never been this easy but still this hard before, this addictive yet intimidating.
“Yes, mistress Shea.” Vanessa finally croaks out, but it’s enough to earn an affectionate stroke on the cheek, Shea’s smirk melting into a warm, satisfied smile.
“Good girl. Now, what d’you say we have some fun, huh?”
“I think that’s a great idea.” Brooke grins as she steps forward, copies Shea’s predatory gaze, though the affection underneath it is undeniable. Still, there’s something different about it, something more intense—
Oh. It hits Vanessa like a stack of bricks, the implications of the thought making chills run down her spine.
Brooke is jealous, and this isn’t just a collaboration—no, this is a competition. And for better or for worse, Vanessa has the ultimate power to decide the winner. And from the looks of it, the way Shea keeps glancing back at Brooke with an equal amount of respect and challenge in her eyes, she knows it, too.
Brooke hums as she comes up next to Shea, runs a gentle hand through Vanessa’s hair and down her cheek before finding the collar of Vanessa’s dress, running a fingertip over it and just shy of Vanessa’s collarbone. “What do you think, Shea? Should we undress our little princess? Or should we keep her like this for now, let her soak through everything until she’s begging us to take it off?”
“I like that second option,” Shea follows Brooke’s suit, taking the time to feel up the fabric wrapped around Vanessa’s waist, “I wanna see how much this pretty little thing can take.”
Both women titter when Vanessa swallows hard at the statement, feels her legs already beginning to tremble with anticipation. But the hands don’t let up, and the stares don’t waver, and Vanessa feels herself falling, dipping further into surrender and melting into the wills of the two women playing with her, teasing her. Warming her up and moulding her to fit their hands.
Brooke’s hands make it down to Vanessa’s chest, ghosting over her breasts and cupping them through her dress, before Vanessa finally lets out a single sound, a quiet moan that earns more earnest kneadin. Shea’s hand finally travels to Vanessa’s legs, tracing up and down the outside of Vanessa’s thighs. It’s not enough, and it’s cruel, it really is, and Vanessa’s about to twist to get more, to try and move her leg and get Shea to move her hand to the inside of it, but it’s a mistake. Shea pulls her hand away, and Brooke’s grasp moves from Vanessa’s tits to her hips, becoming less playful and more stern as she pulls Vanessa back in place, back to kneeling upright in front of her.
“I don’t remember saying you could move, baby girl.” Brooke clicks her tongue, reaching around to give Vanessa a sharp, quick slap on the ass when she squirms again, tempted by the stern edge of her wife’s voice. “What did mistress Shea tell you to do, hm?”
“Focus, mommy. I’m supposed to focus.” Vanessa reddens, and this time, instead of a spanking, Brooke cups Vanessa’s ass, kneads it lightly.
“That’s right, sweetheart. And what does focus mean, hm?” Brooke cocks an eyebrow as if to dare Vanessa to move, grinning when Vanessa steels herself against the urge, barely lets a whimper escape her lips before answering.
“It means not getting distracted or doing things I’m not supposed to do.”
“Good girl.” Brooke smirks, spanking Vanessa again and laughing when the younger woman lets out a surprised yelp. “Goodness, isn’t she sweet, Shea?”
“Adorable.” Shea joins Brooke in playing with Vanessa again, grabbing her ass in turn, running her hand lightly over its curve. There’s a beat, Vanessa looking back at Brooke and wondering what she’ll do, how she’ll react. True to Vanessa’s expectations, Brooke’s eyes go dark, angry, and Vanessa knows that she’s about to up the ante.
Brooke flips the skirt of Vanessa’s dress up, brings her fingers up to run along the waistband of her panties, over hips and then down across her pelvis, right between her legs. “Mm, you’re getting there,” Brooke runs two firm fingers along Vanessa’s clothed slit, her voice analytical, as if she’s seriously assessing whether Vanessa’s wet enough to deserve more stimulation. “But I like you a little more desperate, kitten. What d’you think, baby, should we make things a little more challenging? Get you even more worked up?”
Vanessa nods, stiffening as Brooke cups her pussy, massages her lips through her underwear. As if to double the assault, Shea brings her hands to Vanessa’s hips, guides them to rut against Brooke’s hand as she whispers filthy propositions in the shorter woman’s ear, promises of what Vanessa can earn and challenges of what she should do.
“Tell us how bad you want it, sweetheart.” Brooke nips at Vanessa’s neck, brings her other hand to tug on the hair at the nape of her neck.
“So bad, mommy, so bad, please play with me more, please play with my pussy, please.”
“What do you mean?” Brooke bats her eyelashes innocently, though the wicked grin on her face betrays her real intentions. “I’m already playing with your pussy, darling, you’ll have to be more specific than that.”
Shea nips on the other side of Vanessa’s neck as Brooke gives her hair another tug, and Jesus, Vanessa doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what to do, because it’s all so much, and she wants more , more, more --
“Poor thing,” Shea lets her hand join Brooke’s, the extra bit of pressure making Vanessa cry out, practically collapse onto the two women holding her up. “So desperate, you’ve forgotten how to use your words.”
“ Please --”
“What is it? What is it you want?” Shea goads, voice dripping with fake sympathy, “Want us to take your dress off? Take these cute little panties off too?”
“They’re definitely wet enough now, she’s practically soaked them through.” Brooke chuckles, stopping her movements just enough to press the heel of her hand down right on top of Vanessa’s clit, right where she likes it most…
“Yes, oh God, oh fuck, please, mommy, mistress Shea, please , I need it so bad, need you so bad, please undress me, please, I need it--”
“If you insist.”
Less than half a heartbeat passes before the two women’s hands are moving again, manhandling Vanessa to push and pull and rearrange her on the bed, tear off her dress and ease down her panties before pushing her down on the bed and spreading her legs apart. It’s so fast, so rough that it takes Vanessa’s breath away, and she hardly notices that Brooke has suddenly disappeared until her head stops spinning and she sees her wife walking back towards her, grin on her face and leather in her hands.
“You think she’s pretty now, wait until she’s got these on.” Vanessa’s heart pounds in her ears as Brooke says it, words directed at Shea even as she climbs onto the bed next to Vanesa, starts picking her up and moving her around again. Cuffs tighten and snap around her wrist, then she’s being coaxed up to sit, and her collar is dangling in front of her, inviting her to crane forward so that Brooke can fasten it around her neck.
“Beautiful.” Shea comes up onto the bed on the other side of the mattress, taking Vanessa’s chin in a soft hand and guiding the younger woman to look at her. It’s mesmerizing, and Vanessa’s thoughts are almost wiped clean as the world starts to move again.
“Lie back, baby girl.” Brooke leans in and whispers in Vanessa’s ear even as she stays looking at Shea, the blonde’s hand creeping up Vanessa’s side and making her shiver. “Mommy’s gonna fuck you now, okay?”
Vanessa nods, swallows, because Shea is still watching her, still looking at her. But that just won’t do, not in Brooke’s eyes, at least--so when Vanessa eases down onto her back, it’s Brooke’s hands that steady her, Brooke’s eyes that take over looking into Vanessa’s own. And of course, Vanessa can’t resist whispering an I love you against the mouth that kisses hers, and Brooke can’t resist reaching up to Vanessa’s collar, jingling the ‘ mommy’s angel’ tag before she wraps her hand around Vanessa’s neck, tightens her grip just so.
But of course, they’re not alone, no matter how much the world narrows in that second--because Shea is watching beside them, smirking despite the endeared twinkle in her eye.
“You sure you wanna spoil her already, Brooke?” she drawls, cocking an eyebrow, to which even Brooke blushes a little. “I think it might be more fun to make her earn it first, don’t you think?”
“Oh, don’t worry.” Brooke shakes her head, turning a wink towards Shea as she explains, “She already knows she has to work for it. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
“Yes, mommy.” Vanessa gasps as Brooke’s grip loosens, air burning as it rushes into her lungs. “Gotta make you and mistress Shea happy first.”
“That’s right, baby girl.” Brooke coos, sweeping a strand of hair behind Vanessa’s ear. But the relief of her attention is short-lived; as much as Vanessa wishes she could bask in Brooke’s smile longer, it’s turned away from her as fast as it appeared, instead widening as the blonde directs it towards the other woman waiting at their side.
“So, Shea, what can my angel do for you?”
--
Shea and Brooke have a history. Nothing emotional, nothing committed--that isn’t really Shea’s style, not after one too many heartbreaks. Back then, it hadn’t been Brooke’s either. And that had been fine; things didn’t need to go that deep, so long as they both had fun. And Shea had; every Friday night, sometimes more frequently depending on Shea’s mood, Brooke came through for her, rolling up to her apartment less than an hour after Shea would text her, a single cat emoji enough for Brooke to know what it was they would be getting together for. They had been careful, of course--never left work together, barely even made eye contact in the office.
But things had relaxed significantly since then--there was no danger in friendship now, no rumours that could be started now that Brooke had a ring on her finger and a tiny, hyperactive, incredibly sweet piece of arm candy to take with her to every fundraiser or dinner party. It was nice, being friends with Brooke. Eating lunches with her from time to time and being able to actually have a conversation in the breakroom, able to look at each other when they passed in the halls.
Still, Shea had always wondered if Brooke missed her at all, if anything they had done together or any of the nights they’d shared had left a lasting impression on the blonde. If Brooke remembered Shea’s body the way she remembered hers, every curve and detail and movement still tingling on her skin even years later if she thought about it hard enough.
So when she had opened her most recent text from Brooke and saw the single cat emoji, she was just as shocked as she was intrigued.
“Vanessa and I have been talking about… Spicing it up lately.” Brooke had explained, her voice as confident and shameless as ever on the other line of the phone. “Y’know… Adding another person.”
It was too good an opportunity to pass up, and now that Shea’s actually here? She definitely doesn’t regret it.
“Fuck, keep that up, that’s it, fuck …” Shea pushes Vanessa’s face further into her cunt, hips pressing forward to meet the shorter woman’s tongue as she laps at her folds. The flicks of Vanessa’s tongue are relentless, yet not enough, always coming just short of Shea’s clit in a way Shea knows should be punished, it really should. Only she can’t even blame Vanessa, not really. No, to look for the source of the teasing, she’s got to go beyond the girl currently trying to crane for her clit, straight to the woman behind her, pulling Vanessa back with a cruel smile.
“Shea doesn’t look very happy, baby, didn’t I say you needed to focus?” Brooke’s voice is positively dripping with glee as she thrusts into Vanessa hard with her strap, forcing her wife’s hips back to meet her. Of course; even after all this time, Brooke remembers what Shea likes, what she doesn’t, what drives her absolutely insane. She’s always been like that—a brat through and through, even when she’s domming, even when she’s supposed to be on equal footing. Of course just making Vanessa work for it wouldn’t be enough; no, first she’s got to drive Shea to the edge, too.
Fortunately, Shea and Brooke have a history, which means that Shea knows exactly how to get her under control again.
“Why not go a little harder on Vanessa, Brooke?” she challenges, “I wanna feel her screaming into me.”
Checkmate. Brooke looks taken aback, as if she isn’t sure what to make of Shea’s suggestion, but Shea just pulls Vanessa’s hair a little bit, makes the smaller woman let out a surprised yelp that vibrates against Shea’s pussy, and her message is clear.
“Fuck her harder, Brooke.” Shea repeats, savouring the way Brooke’s jaw drops, how she can feel the need radiating off of the blonde even feet away at just the change in her voice. “Come on, I know what you’re capable of. Be a good girl and make her scream for me.”
Brooke doesn’t need to be told a third time; instead of pulling Vanessa back, she comes to meet her hips harder and harder, faster and faster, switching her angle every few thrusts to keep Vanessa on her toes. It’s a pattern Shea knows well, and it works like a charm; within moments, Vanessa is mewling into Shea’s cunt, whimpering, then full-on moaning, gasping for breath as she tries to focus on her job, keep herself from slipping fully into Brooke’s grasp. It’s intoxicating, and Shea can’t help but lose her breath, slip into a space where she can’t hear or feel or see anything but Vanessa against her pussy and Brooke beaming proudly in front of her. And before Shea can stop herself, convince herself to hold on, wait a little more, let out one more quip or command, she feels herself finally tipping over the edge.
Brooke must have told Vanessa she could come, too, because Shea’s orgasm is intensified by the sound of Vanessa crying out and screaming Brooke’s name right into her, thanking Brooke over and over again as pleasure crashes over them both. Still, Shea can’t forget herself completely even as the waves suck her under, because there’s still one matter to attend to.
“Don’t relax too much, baby.” she grunts down at Vanessa as the shorter woman comes down from her orgasm, her movements against Shea’s pussy becoming even and calm again. “You still got someone to thank, don’t you?”
“Thank you, mistress Shea.” Vanessa lifts up off of Shea’s cunt, bringing a hand up to wipe her mouth, only for her eyes to widen when Shea’s hand catches her wrist midair.
“I didn’t say you could clean yourself up, baby girl.” Shea keeps her voice gentle as she shakes her head, relishes the way Vanessa’s breath hitches in her throat with a soft little oh . “And you’re welcome, but I didn’t mean me, either.”
Vanessa turns instinctively to look back at Brooke, who grins, winking up at Shea gratefully before looking back down at her wife and licking her lips.
“You heard Shea,” Brooke giggles, “Come over here, angel, and show mommy how grateful you are.”