House Rules Ch. 023

Author's note: This is the third chapter of House Rules, a multi-part story involving a triangle between a babyface wrestler, his gf, and an alpha heel. It involves cuckolding, male domination, female domination, bisexuality and NTR. If those aren't your things, please move on

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I didn't say goodbye. I just left. Still hard. Still aching. Panties still clutched in my fist. My mind was reeling. I had never experienced anything like that threesome before. And Jordan? Just telling me to go home?

I got home just after midnight. I didn't turn the lights on. I didn't shower. I just stood in the middle of the living room, jeans still tight, breath still uneven, wondering if I should be angry, or just honest with myself.

Jordan's panties were in my pocket. I slid them out slowly. I held them in my palm like they might burn me. They were warm from my body heat. Lacy. Black. Soft. Still faintly damp. I brought them to my nose. God. Her. The scent hit me like a drug -- skin, sweat, heat, and something else: surrender. I sat on the edge of my bed and stared at the floor.

My phone buzzed.

I jumped.

Jordan ????

[1 Image]

I opened it.

It was a mirror selfie. Low angle, backlit. She was in Axel's lap, straddling him, her body draped over his chest, her eyes closed in ecstasy. His hand was around her throat. One of her nipples was between his fingers. His cock, still hard, pressed against her stomach. The message under the photo read:

Don't wait up babe, My hands are full tonight. ????

My cock twitched. I hadn't even undressed. The zipper dug into me.

I stared at the picture for too long. My hand slipped into my waistband. Just one touch. I gritted my teeth and pulled it back out. No. Not yet.

Forty minutes later: another buzz.

Jordan ????

[1 Video]

I hesitated this time. But not for long.

The camera opened to Axel's voice, low and close. "Tell him."

Jordan's voice followed. Raspy. Unsteady. Completely gone. "You're so much bigger... so much thicker. I can't even pretend anymore."

Axel laughed.

"Don't worry, pretty boy," he said, his face filling the frame -- sweaty, smug, still in control. "I'll take care of her for you. Be a good boy for us,"

I didn't realize my hand had drifted down again. I cupped myself through my jeans. My hips pushed forward against nothing. I was leaking into my boxers -- aching.

I unzipped. Slid her panties into my palm. Wrapped them around my cock. Slow strokes. Barely enough to edge the pressure. I didn't want to come. Not yet. Not until they made me.

Another photo. 2:23 a. m.

Jordan bent over, looking back at the camera from over her shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed. Her mascara was smudged. Axel's hands gripped her hips like handlebars. He was inside her.

The caption:

I told him he could cum in me if he could get me to call him Daddy.

I nearly came right then. I stopped myself. Just barely. I laid back. Panties in one hand, cock in the other, body buzzing with everything I didn't know how to admit.

Sometime after 3 a. m., I must've drifted. I woke with my phone buzzing against my stomach, my cock still twitching in my palm. Her panties were still wrapped around me. I rubbed my eyes and looked at the screen.

Axel ????

[1 Video Message]

Sent 4:02 a. m.

I clicked. Axel sat on the edge of the bed, bare chest covered in faint red scratches, his hair wet with sweat. Behind him, Jordan was sleeping -- or maybe just spent. One leg draped over his thigh. Her body was limp and gorgeous in the aftermath.

He stared right into the camera.

"Good morning, pretty boy."

He smirked.

"Your girl's on her way home. Hope you saved her a clean pillow."

He leaned forward, and in a whisper, added:

"And don't you dare wash those panties."

Video ended.

My cock pulsed in my hand. I came into her panties with a groan I couldn't stop. Spilled every ounce of myself into them -- into them. Then I curled around the soaked lace and fell asleep.

Jordan

I let myself in quietly, easing the door shut behind me.

The living room was dim, just a faint wash of early morning light bleeding in around the curtains. His shirt still hung over the arm of the couch, the same one he'd worn out last night. Wrinkled. Forgotten. Like he'd fallen asleep and never wanted to wake up.

He was in the bedroom. I heard the rhythm of his breathing before I saw him. Lying on his side, facing the window. One arm curled near his chest. The other rested on top of the blanket, half-clenched. He was holding something. My panties.

I stepped closer, careful not to make a sound.

They were balled up in his fist, the lace darkened by dried cum. My scent was still there. His too. Tangled together. A pulse of heat ran through me. My cheeks flushed. My thighs tightened.

God.

That ache came back--low, deep, steady. And underneath it, a little tug of something else. Not guilt. Not quite. Curiosity. How far would he go for me? Was he still mine?

I peeled off my coat, letting it fall gently onto the chair. I stepped out of my boots, unzipped my dress. Let it slide to the floor. My thighs were still sticky from the night before. I hadn't showered. I hadn't even cleaned up. I wanted to bring it all home with me.

The scent of being used. I slipped into bed behind him, easing under the covers. Skin to skin. I pressed against his back, slowly wrapping one arm around his chest. He was warm. Solid. And hard. Even in his sleep.

He stirred, breath hitching when I kissed the back of his neck.

His eyes fluttered open. "Jordan..." His voice was hoarse.

"Shh." I whispered against his skin. "I just want to be close."

He turned toward me, slow and sleepy. His hand fell, and the panties slipped between us. Our eyes met. Shame. Desire. Need. All of it swirled in his expression.

I leaned in and kissed him. Soft at first. Then deeper. He kissed me back, needy and searching. His hands trembled. And then he froze. He tasted it. The salty sweetness of Axel's seed.

His lips parted. His breath caught. He knew. Axel was still on my tongue. I didn't pull away. I kissed him again. Harder. Like I wanted to see how far I could push him. This time, he didn't stop me. He moaned into my mouth.

I rolled onto my back and pulled him over me.

"Do you want this?" I asked.

He nodded.

"No. Say it."

"I want this," he said, voice rough. "I want you."

"Even after last night?"

"Especially after last night." He blinked hard, like the truth had cost him something. Like it scraped coming out. But he still meant it.

I smiled, slow and wet with heat.

"Then prove it. Show me you're my good boy."

He nodded again, eyes wide. "I'll do anything. Just don't let me go."

I guided his mouth to my throat. "Start here."

He kissed my neck, soft and reverent. Down to my collarbone, tracing with his lips like he was memorizing it. I tangled my fingers in his hair and held him there.

Lower. He kissed between my breasts, lingered there.

Lower. I felt the scrape of his stubble against my skin, the roughness of his touch making me ache for something more. His mouth was slow, deliberate--each kiss almost like a question, a plea, a promise.

As he moved lower, the warmth of his breath sent shivers down my spine. My thighs parted instinctively, my body craving the attention, the worship. But underneath the desire, something else twisted inside me. Was I really letting him in, or was I just using him?.

His mouth found me, tongue slow and steady. I was still wet from Axel. Still tender. But Ty didn't pull away. He pressed in, deeper and warmer, like he had something to prove.

He kissed me like it meant everything. Like every stroke of his tongue was a way to earn his place again. m And I let him.

I let him until my hips arched and my breath broke and his name fell from my mouth like a reward. When I came, I came on his mouth. Shaking. Gripping the sheets. Wanting more. After, I held his face between my hands.

His lips were slick. His eyes wide. He looked so full of love and longing it almost hurt.

"You're mine," I whispered.

He nodded.

Then I glanced down at the panties lying between us. Crusted. Sticky. Soaked with last night and this morning.

I laughed, breathless. "Did you jerk off into these?"

His ears went red. He didn't answer.

I picked them up, brought them to his cheek. He flinched. I smiled.

"I'm telling him." I held them there for another beat, letting the soaked lace press into his cheek. "Good boys don't hide things from Daddy."

He opened his mouth to protest. Then stopped. Because he knew he wanted me to. I picked up my phone, raised it slowly. He didn't move.

I snapped the picture.

The soaked panties against his flushed, embarrassed face.

I sent it to Axel. I realized we were sharing a lot of compromising pictures with him. I wondered if he'd show anyone. I almost hoped he would. Seconds later, a reply.

Axel: He can wear them. Inside out. All day.

I smiled wider. I looked back at Ty.

"Go make breakfast, baby."

Jordan

The hiss of the steam room wrapped around me, soft and thick like breath on skin. My muscles had begun to relax. My pores opened beneath the heat. But peace wouldn't come.

Not today.

I'd barely slept.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Axel.

Towering over me. Beneath me. Behind me.

Coaxing things out of me I didn't expect. Pushing me to say what I didn't even know I needed.

"Say it."

"Tell me who owns you."

"Louder."

It started as teasing. A game. A scene I thought I could control.

But somewhere between "Daddy" and "You're the best," and, "of course he can't fuck me like you." something inside me shifted.

I meant it. I liked it. God, I liked it too much.

Why did I like it so much? Was it the control, the way he owned me, or something else? I'd been with Ty for so long, and now--was I willing to let go of everything I knew for something like this?

And Ty...

Sweet, loyal, beautiful Ty.

He was still mine, wasn't he? But what if this was my way of losing him? What if I pushed him too far? Showed him sides of me that were too dark, too hungry? Could I really have both of them?

Watching me leave with Axel. Stroking himself with them after we were gone. Wearing them. He's a big boy, He knew what he was doing. He could have stopped it. Instead, said yes. He chose this. He wanted this too.

But still, the image of him kneeling in that room stayed with me. The way his hands shook. The way he watched me. Like he couldn't look away. Like it hurt to see, but hurt worse to stop.

There was something beautiful in it. Something raw and exposed. A quiet kind of surrender.

And the way he looked at me when I leaned in this morning. Like I was the only thing holding him together. Like he was harder than he'd ever been and barely holding it back.

It nearly broke me. I still wanted to protect him. Even as I wanted him to watch. Even as I got wet wanting to see him submit, knowing he wanted it too.

I shifted in my seat, letting the heat settle deeper into my skin. My legs parted slightly, thighs slick. I hadn't touched myself. Not yet. But I wanted to.

I had a mental image of Ty caged. Locked up. Helpless and obedient. Serving dinner in my panties with that ache between his legs. It made me moan softly, lips parting with need. Axel had mentioned chastity like it was a joke. But when I saw the key in his hand this morning, something inside me clenched.

It wasn't a joke.

It was real. And if it was real, it meant Axel wasn't letting go. Not of me. Not of Ty. Not of whatever twisted, beautiful thing we were becoming. That scared me more than I wanted to admit.

And tonight, Ty would say yes again.

I closed my eyes. Let the heat curl around me like a secret.

He would kneel.

He would watch.

And when the key turned in the lock, he would thank us for it.