Chapter 23: Siobhan's First Solo
The blindfold was heavier than he’d imagined. A strip of black silk, cool against his skin, tied snugly by Catriona’s sure hands. The world vanished into a dense, velvety nothing. His other senses roared to life, hypersensitive and raw.He sat on the edge of the sofa, bare except for his boxer briefs. The rough weave of the upholstery prickled against his thighs. The smell of the room was layered: the faint, floral perfume Siobhan wore, the sharper, clean scent of Catriona’s shampoo, the underlying musk of their earlier presence.And whiskey. He heard the gentle clink of glass from across the room.
“Alright?” Catriona’s voice came from his left, calm, a director checking her props.“Yeah,” he breathed. His own voice sounded strange to him, muffled by the dark.“Siobhan?” Catriona prompted.
A shift of fabric.A quiet exhalation. “I’m ready.” Siobhan’s voice was closer than he’d expected, just a few feet in front of him. It had a new quality to it—less tremulous, more resolved.
“Then he’s all yours,” Catriona said.“Remember the rules.You lead. He follows.”
No further instructions were given.The silence that followed was profound, punctuated only by the slow thud of his own heart. He waited.He could feel the air move a fraction as she approached. The anticipation was a physical weight on his chest.Her fingertips grazed his knee.
He jerked, the contact electric in the void.“Sorry,” she whispered, not sounding sorry at all. Her touch returned, firmer now, tracing the line of his quad muscle up to the hem of his briefs. Her hands were warm. He heard the soft, wet sound of her mouth opening, then felt her breath, hot and damp, through the thin cotton covering his cock. He grew hard instantly, a swift, aching swell that strained against the fabric.“Jesus,” he muttered.She didn’t speak. Her hands went to his waistband and hooked there. She pulled the briefs down in one slow, deliberate motion.The air in the room was cool on his exposed skin. He was completely vulnerable now, erected and blind, the evidence of his arousal standing taut between his thighs.
He heard her sink to her knees on the carpet.The brush of her hair against his stomach was a shock. Then her mouth was on him.Not taking him in, not yet. Just pressing her lips to the side of his shaft, a soft, open-mouthed kiss.Then another, moving down. Her tongue flicked out, tasting a bead of moisture at his tip. Aidan groaned, his head falling back against the couch.His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“You can touch the sofa,” Catriona’s voice cut through, clinical.“Not her. Not unless she says.”
He forced his fingers to relax, to dig into the cushioning instead.Siobhan took him then. Not all at once, but with a slow, deep commitment that stole his breath. Her lips stretched around his girth, her tongue flattening against the underside as she descended. He felt the back of her throat, a tight, yielding ring of muscle. She held there, humming softly, the vibration travelling through his entire body. Her hands came up to cradle his balls, rolling them gently in her warm palms.She began to move.A slow, rising tide of suction and release. He was lost in it, in the dark, in the wet, silken heat of her mouth. His world was reduced to this single, overwhelming point of sensation. The sounds were obscene, wet and rhythmic, and he could hear her breathing hard through her nose each time she took him deep.
Then she pulled off with a soft pop.
“Look at me, Cat,” Siobhan said, her voice thick.Aidan heard a rustle—Catriona moving. He imagined her leaning forward in the armchair, her green eyes wide and fixed.
“Do you like watching him?” Siobhan asked, her question clearly for Catriona, though her fingers still absently stroked Aidan’s length.
“You know I do,” Catriona answered, her voice husky.“Good.”
Siobhan’s mouth returned with renewed fervor. This time she set a relentless pace, her head bobbing fast and deep. One of her hands left his balls and cupped them from beneath, applying a gentle, perfect pressure. Aidan’s hips began to lift involuntarily, meeting her thrust for thrust. A coiled, white-hot tension gathered at the base of his spine.
“I’m close,” he gasped, the words ripped from him.Siobhan didn’t stop.She sucked harder, faster.
“Siobhan,” Catriona’s voice was a command. “Ask.”
Siobhan pulled off again, panting.Her hand kept pumping him steadily. “Can I taste it?” she asked, the question aimed at the darkness where Catriona sat. “Can I have it?”
The pause was excruciating.Aidan hung on the edge, trembling.
“Yes,” Catriona said, the word final and full of pleasure.Siobhan didn’t hesitate. She took him back into her mouth, swallowing him to the root.Her throat opened around him. She used her hands, her tongue, every part of her to coax it out of him. The climax tore through Aidan like a breaking wave, blinding even behind the silk. He cried out, a raw, shattered sound, as he pulsed into the depths of her. She drank him down, her throat working, a soft, satisfied moan escaping her as she milked the last shuddering drop from him.
When she finally released him, he was boneless, collapsed back against the sofa, spent and trembling. The blindfold was damp—with sweat or maybe, he thought distantly, with tears.
He heard her stand, her knees cracking softly.Heard her cross the room. Heard the whisper of a kiss—mouth on mouth.Catriona and Siobhan.
“You did so well,” Catriona murmured, not to him, but to her.Then her footsteps approached him. Her fingers were on his face, cool and familiar, untieing the knot at the back of his head.The blindfold fell away.
The light in the room was low, sepia-toned by the dying twilight.Catriona stood before him, her robe loose. Siobhan was by the window, buttoning her blouse, her face flushed and serene.
Catriona’s eyes searched his, looking for something—regret, hesitation.He had none to give. There was only the hollowed-out aftermath, and her, standing in the centre of the ruins she’d orchestrated.She smiled then, a slow, triumphant curve of her lips. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, a benediction.
“Perfect,” she whispered, and the word settled into him, a new truth.