16. Henry

Chapter 16

Henry

Saskia is a vision as she sashays her way up the stairs completely naked, and completely in charge. I’ve always been in awe of the way she owns a room, steps into her power, but dominating us both like this was something else.

I don’t know at what point we ended up holding hands, but Casper’s grip threatened to crush mine as he listened to me come in her mouth, and again as he… Well, I don’t know. I can’t see what’s gone on behind me but he sounded like a man being torn apart between agony and ecstasy.

Behind me, he continues to thrash like a caged animal, which I suppose he is. Whatever she did to him has left him a panting, groaning wreck. I squeeze his hands tighter, pulling his focus back to me.

“You OK, Casper?”

He mumbles around whatever she’s gagged him with.

“Spit it out,” I tell him, trying not to laugh at the double meaning, then blinking hard when I almost pass out at the memory of seeing Saskia take my cum in her mouth. She sucked me so hard I’m still seeing stars.

“She… She… I’ve never…”

“What happened?”

“She made me come without even touching my dick!” he growls, and I burst out laughing.

“Really?”

“Really,” he pants, but before long he’s laughing too. “What the fuck? She didn’t even take it out. I’m still fully clothed.”

I twist to see, but it’s useless. His blindfold is on the floor by my foot, so whatever she did to make him react like that must have been exceptional viewing. Saskia’s clothes lie in a heap, and my cock twitches at the memory of her slipping her bra off right in front of my face. Feeding her nipple into my mouth. Staring into my eyes as I bit it between my teeth.

And there I am getting hard again.

Our laughter dies when we hear the shower turn on upstairs, and our focus returns to the predicament she’s left us in.

“How the fuck do we get out of here?” Casper says, trying to shuffle both of our chairs towards the table.

“Are you cuffed to the chair?” I ask, twisting my wrists and tugging on his.

“I don’t think so, only to you.”

“OK. Let’s try to stand up at the same time. Then we find the keys.”

Casper moves to stand, but with his body leaning forward, he hauls mine swiftly backwards, and the bars of the chair dig into my spine.

“Ow! Not like that. We have to go at the same time.”

I press my back and shoulders against his for support, both relying on core strength as we attempt to rise like we’re part of some fucked up corporate trust exercise. His groan matches mine, but it works. We’re on our feet and sidestepping the chairs, but that's only halfway to freedom.

Saskia threw my sweatpants out of reach when she stripped them off me, but she couldn’t remove my t-shirt while I was in the cuffs. I look ridiculous, my lower half fully on display, cock jutting out like some filthy version of Winnie the Pooh.

Casper heads for the table, yanking me so hard I bump into his back and almost knock us both over.

“Watch it!” he yells.

“You fucking watch it. I’m walking backwards and I can’t see shit, remember? Take it slow.”

We shuffle together, positioning ourselves sideways next to where the box sits open and overflowing. Casper takes the lead, lifting my hands with his while he rummages for the keys, flinging toys all over the table. Something bright blue bounces off the edge and onto the floor.

Is that an alien tentacle?

I adjust my angle to get a better look in the box. Fuck, there’s some good shit in there. Clamps, floggers, dildos and plugs. I’d feel jealous for all the times the two of them have spent playing together here, were it not for the fact that I know she’s mine now, and we still have days to play before I head back.

My stomach drops at the thought of New York, the place I’ve called home for the past fifteen years. I have a good life there. Great work, great clients, great friends. The one thing missing, the thing that’s always been missing, is her.

Saskia is it for me, but we can’t pretend we’re not living different lives right now. Continuing a relationship between London and New York isn’t impossible, but we need this week together to figure out where we go from here. Those kinds of conversations won't be easy with her soon to be ex-husband stomping around the house. Harder still if he’s going to be cuffed to me much longer.

“Got them!”

Finally, Casper grabs hold of the keys, shoving them blindly between us, then immediately dropping them onto the floor.

“Oh, fuck you, you dickhead,” I groan, throwing my head back and accidentally whacking it into his.

“Who are you calling a dickhead?” he thrashes, headbutting me back. “This is all your fucking fault, you know? If you hadn’t turned this into a dick swinging contest, this would never have happened.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who was acting like you’d need to teach me what to do with a vibrator. You’re the one that tipped her over the edge. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s yours.”

He roars behind me, pulling so hard it feels like my shoulder might pop out of the socket. I shove back with all my weight, pushing as hard as I can until he’s trapped, writhing between me and the wall. He’s strong, but I’m stronger, and a swift elbow to the ribs makes him stop this shit.

“Chill the fuck out, man. We need to get back down to the floor, but we can’t do shit with you acting like a bear in a trap the entire time.”

I give him a few seconds to let his rage subside before pulling us away from the wall.

“Lean back and we’ll squat down together on three, OK?”

“Fine,” he says, his weight pressing against me.

“And let me pick them up this time. On three. One… two… three…”

My attempt at a slow descent is thwarted by his sudden squat, and we both end up crashing to the floor in a heap. By a stroke of luck, the keys are just within reach of my fingertips, but he rolls to his side, dragging me with him.

“Hold still! And let me lead.”

“Just hurry up!” he yells, as if I’m thrilled at the prospect of rolling around on the floor with my dick out for the rest of the day.

“Shut up. I can’t concentrate while you're shouting at me.”

Finally, I get a tiny key between my fingers, and carefully push it into one of the locks, but it won’t turn. I try the other one, and one cuff springs open on my wrist. Extricating my arms from his, I shove him off me and scramble to my feet, while he, still handcuffed, wrestles himself onto his knees.

I have an opportunity to do the funniest thing here. It’s tempting to put the keys out of reach and leave him to it while I follow Saskia to the shower, but he and I share a bond now. In this fucked up escape room, no man is left behind.

“Uncuff me,” he pleads, and I crouch behind him to let him go. The second I free one wrist, he bolts, charging for the stairs while the cuffs still hang from the other.