The beach cheat
The Altar of Salt and Amethyst
The metallic *clack* of the handcuffs against the cedar frame of the couch was the only sound in the room, Save for the heavy, synchronized breathing of the two women looming over me. The ruined velvet was cold and damp beneath my back, a physical ledger of the ecstasy they had shared while I slept. Sai stood at my head, her violet hair a silken curtain that smelled of ozone and expensive shampoo, while Sue knelt at my hips, her golden beauty framed by the harsh morning light.
"He looks so small like this," Sue whispered, her voice devoid of its usual maternal softness. She reached down, her white-painted fingernails tracing the line of my jaw with a clinical detachment. "Stripped of his pride, pinned to the mess we made. It’s a good look for him, don't you think, Sai?"
Sai leaned down, her purple eyes shimmering with a predatory heat. She gripped my chin, forcing me to look up at her. "It’s the only look he’s allowed to have today. He thought he was the master of the beach, the one who orchestrated our little awakening. He forgot that once the fire is lit, the architect is just more fuel."
Without another word, Sue shifted. She climbed further up my body, her knees flanking my head. I felt the soft, humid weight of her as she lowered herself. The scent of her—sweet, musk-heavy, and still carrying the faint tang of the silicone toy—filled my senses. She didn't hesitate, pressing her center directly over my mouth, her thighs squeezing my temples like a vice.
"Eat," Sue commanded, her voice muffled but firm. "I want to feel every lick. I want you to taste exactly what Sai did to me while you were dreaming."
I obeyed, my tongue working against her slick, swollen folds. The taste was an intoxicating cocktail of her natural sweetness and the lingering salt of the ocean. Sue let out a long, shaky moan, her hands reaching back to grip my hair, guiding my movements with a desperate, rhythmic intensity. She wasn't the Saint of the Fantastic anymore; she was a woman drowning in sensation, using me as her life raft.
As I focused on Sue, I felt Sai move to the other end of the couch. She climbed over my legs, her athletic frame a contrast to Sue’s soft curves. I felt her settle between my knees, her hands sliding up my inner thighs. Her touch was electric, her purple nails grazing my skin just enough to make me jump against the restraints.
"Don't get distracted," Sai hissed from somewhere near my waist. "You have a job to do up there, and I have a job to do down here."
I felt the sudden, cool sensation of Sue’s feet. She had extended her legs, her arches pressing against the sides of my shaft. Her white-painted toes were incredibly dexterous, curling around me, the skin of her soles soft yet firm as she began a slow, agonizingly perfect stroke. It was a pincer attack of pleasure—Sue’s heat on my face and her soft, rhythmic footplay on my cock.
Sai joined the fray, her head dipping low. I felt the wet, warm velvet of her tongue as she began to lick the undersides of Sue’s feet even as they worked me. The sensation was surreal—the friction of Sue’s skin, the moisture of Sai’s mouth, and the overwhelming scent of both women swirling around me in the morning heat.
"Look at them," Sai murmured, her voice vibrating against my thigh. "The Invisible Woman’s feet, so pristine, so perfect. And here they are, stained with your need and my spit. Isn't it beautiful?"
Sue let out a sharp cry, her hips bucking against my face. "Sai! Oh, god, the way he... the way his tongue..."
"I know, darling," Sai whispered, momentarily pulling away from my cock to look up at Sue. "He’s a very talented tool. But he’s reaching his limit. I can feel the tension in him."
Sai returned her attention to me, her hand wrapping around the base of my length, her thumb circling my glans while her tongue continued to tease Sue’s arches. The combination was too much. The rhythmic pulling of Sue’s feet, the suction of Sai’s mouth, and the relentless demand of Sue’s weight on my face pushed me over the precipice.
"Now!" Sai commanded, her voice a sharp crack in the quiet room.
I bucked against the handcuffs, the metal biting into my wrists as I let out a muffled roar into Sue’s skin. My release was violent, a frantic pulsing that seemed to go on forever. Sai didn't pull away. She leaned in, her mouth wide, taking the full brunt of my climax. She watched me with wide, unblinking eyes as I gave her a heavy, messy facial, the white cream splattering across her high cheekbones and her violet-painted lips.
The room fell silent, the only sound the ragged gasps of three people pushed to the edge of their endurance. Sue slowly lifted herself off my face, her eyes glazed, her golden hair a tangled mess. She looked down at Sai, who was still kneeling between my legs, her face a map of my surrender.
"Look at you," Sue whispered, a slow, wicked smile spreading across her face. "You’ve got him all over you, Sai."
Sai wiped a stray drop from the corner of her eye with a purple-nailed finger, then licked it clean. "It’s a badge of honor, Susan. A mark of ownership. But I think I’ve had enough of being the only one wearing it."
Sue crawled down the length of my body, her skin sliding against mine, still slick with sweat and lubricant. She reached Sai and cupped the telepath’s face in her hands. The contrast was stunning—the pale, blonde mother and the bronzed, violet-haired assassin, connected by the mess I had made.
"Let me help you with that," Sue murmured.
Sue leaned in, her tongue darting out to lick a long, slow stripe across Sai’s cheek, taking the cream into her own mouth. Sai let out a low, guttural purr, her hands finding Sue’s waist, pulling her closer. They met in the middle, their lips locking in a deep, sloppy French kiss.
I watched, pinned to the couch, as they shared me. I could see the white of my load on their tongues, smeared across their lips as they moved against each other. It was a total breakdown of boundaries, a blurring of two worlds—the Fantastic and the Uncanny—merged into a single, hedonistic reality.
"Mmm," Sai moaned into the kiss, her eyes fluttering shut. "You taste like him, Susan. And he tastes like victory."
Sue pulled back just an inch, her blue eyes shimmering with a newfound, dangerous light. "He tastes like he belongs to us. Both of us."
They turned their gaze back to me simultaneously. I was spent, my wrists aching, my heart still hammering against my ribs, but looking at them—the gold and the violet, their faces smeared with the evidence of my devotion—I knew I would do it all again.
"He looks tired, Sai," Sue noted, her voice returning to a mock-nurturing tone. "Perhaps we should let him rest for a few minutes."
Sai reached into the pocket of her discarded robe on the floor and produced a small key. She unlocked the handcuffs, the metal falling away with a heavy *thud* onto the floor. My arms fell to my sides, heavy as lead.
"Rest," Sai agreed, crawling up the couch to drape herself over my right side, while Sue mirrored her on the left. "But don't get too comfortable. The sun is still high, and Susan has a few more ideas she wants to explore before the wine is finished."
Sue rested her head on my shoulder, her white-painted nails tracing the red marks on my wrists. "I think I want to see how he looks in the water again. But this time, I want to be the one holding the chains."
I closed my eyes, the scent of the two of them—salt, silk, and the raw musk of the morning—enveloping me. The beach house was a sanctuary, a vacuum where the rest of the world didn't exist, and as I drifted into a shallow, satisfied doze, the last thing I felt was the touch of purple and white nails meeting across my chest, a silent pact renewed in the light of the morning sun.