Chapter 60 Mercer
Chapter sixty
Mercer
This was a wretched idea. Quite possibly my worst ever.
But alas, I’m in the cuck chair tonight.
I threw the idea out there after a hearty meal, two pain pills, and several pulls from a fat joint.
“Comfy, prof?” Tytus teases as he prowls across the room toward the couch where Sawyer and Noah are waiting.
Comfy, I am not. But I won’t budge from this chair. There’s no need for outward restraints or excessive willpower. I know my limits. I can’t move the right side of my body without suffering significant pain. I couldn’t keep up with them. Nevertheless, I’m eager to see how this plays out.
Tytus was gracious enough to drag in my throne.
Oh, the irony.
Noah built another fire in the hearth, which is roaring at my back. Fresh snow continues to fall outside, flurries fluttering outside the bay window on the opposite wall.
Despite the dark, moody vibe we’ve set, no natural elements stand a chance of distracting me from the beauty of the woman before me.
She’s treating me to a slow, sensual strip tease—peeling off the layers of borrowed clothing she’s been bundled in all day and revealing her luscious curves, shapely hips, soft stomach, and gorgeous, suckable tits.
She’s a fucking sight.
Tipping my chin, I mouth come here.
She responds with a sly smile, a shake of her head, and a slow, tantalizing swivel of her hips.
I cock a brow. Please?
Her expression softens like I knew it would, and with unhurried steps, she approaches me. When she’s just out of reach, she plants one hand on her waist and cocks her hip to the side. “Yes, professor?”
“Will you do me a favor, sweetheart?”
Mirth dances behind her pretty green eyes. “Depends.”
“Would you please pull my glasses out of my pocket and put them on my face? I don’t want to miss a second of this.”
Grinning, she snatches my glasses out of the pocket of the flannel I borrowed from Noah. She places them on my nose carefully, then straightens slowly, making a leisurely, tantric show of smoothing her hands up her body and cupping her breasts as she rises.
I lick my lips and murmur, “Good girl.”
Sawyer turns, peering over her shoulder, ensuring she’s just out of reach.
“You think I’m a good girl, professor?”
“I think you’re the most perfect, precious creature on this planet, sweetheart.”
She smirks. “Do good girls borrow their boyfriend’s butt plugs without permission?”
She folds forward and spreads her cheeks. There, already pressed into her ass, is a red silicone butt plug. It’s new. I bought it for her. Hopefully she also thought to bring out—
“Don’t worry. I brought the lube I found in your room, too.”
Sparks of eagerness ignite in my core, but reality slams down on me quickly, extinguishing them.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Little Nuisance,” I warn.
Tytus admitted he was a virgin up until he fucked our girl in the back of the truck three nights ago.
To my knowledge, Noah is not particularly experienced in anal sex. Or sharing. Or any of this, really.
Jesus H.
I hope we aren’t setting them up for failure…
“Sawyer…” It’s not just my jealousy over my lack of participation I’m concerned about here.
She stands up straight, spins on her heel, and assesses me. “You may be in the cuck chair, but I’m in charge tonight, prof.”
I bristle at her use of the nickname Tytus has bestowed upon me, irritation mingling with my concern.
“I’ll do all the requisite consent checks and remind the guys of their safe words,” she assures me. “I won’t push anyone. If it happens, it happens. I wanted to be prepared. Just in case.”
She winks, then blows me a kiss and strides back over to the couch.