Chapter 73 Sexual orientation confirmation panel (2)
The overhead mirror was merciless.
Alex could see everything, the faint tremor in their own thighs, the way the black silk robe had fallen open and pooled uselessly at their sides
The pale blue nitrile stretched over Julian’s knuckles as his broad hand rested possessively high on the inside of Alex’s left leg.
Selene’s gloved fingers glistened; she had not hurried, had not allowed a single stroke to be wasted.
The monitor on the rolling stand beeped a steady, humiliating rhythm, 148 beats per minute and climbing.
Selene lifted her hand, letting the bright light catch the slick evidence of Alex’s arousal stretched between two fingers.
She studied it clinically, then glanced at Julian.
“Female tactile lead, latency to visible lubrication under four minutes. Volume above average. The contraction pattern suggests a strong parasympathetic response.”
She turned to Alex, voice velvet. “You’re very receptive, darling. That’s going to make the comparison interesting.”
Julian’s eyes never left Alex’s face. “Switch.”
They moved like dancers who had rehearsed this choreography in darker rooms than this one.
Selene stepped back, peeling off her gloves with deliberate slowness, letting each finger snap free.
Julian warmed fresh lube between his palms, no bottle this time, just body heat, then settled his hands exactly where his wife’s had been.
His touch was heavier, more deliberate, the pressure of someone who already knew the map of Alex’s reactions.
Two thick fingers slid inside without warning.
Alex’s back arched hard enough that the leather cuffs creaked.
Julian’s voice stayed level, almost bored. “Male tactile lead, internal response immediate. The anterior wall is highly sensitive. G-spot or prostate equivalent, depending on your final taxonomy, is pronounced.”
He curled his fingers, pressed once, held. Alex made a broken sound that echoed off the glass walls.
Selene had moved to the head of the table.
She brushed damp hair from Alex’s forehead with maternal tenderness, then let her thumb rest against Alex’s lower lip. “Open,” she murmured.
Alex obeyed before conscious thought caught up.
Selene slid her thumb inside, letting Alex taste the faint trace of their own arousal.
“Good patient,” she praised softly. “Now look in the mirror. See how beautifully you take him.”
In the reflection, Julian’s forearm flexed as he worked Alex open with slow, measured strokes.
The monitor spiked again, 162 beats per minute.
“Pupil dilation consistent across both stimuli,” Julian noted.
“But vocalization volume increased thirty percent under male lead…curious.”
Selene withdrew her thumb, replacing it with two fingers for Alex to suck while she leaned down and spoke against their ear.
“We’re going to escalate now. Oral phase. You’ll receive each of us in turn. No hands, no guidance. Just your mouth and our data. Try not to come. If you do, we will start over.”
She straightened, unfastened the remaining buttons of her coat, letting it slide from her shoulders.
Beneath was only the midnight camisole and sheer black stockings held by a thin garter.
No bra.
Her nipples pressed visibly against silk.
Julian withdrew his fingers. The sudden emptiness drew a whimper Alex couldn’t stifle.
He stripped his own gloves, rolled on a fresh pair without looking away from Alex’s face, then moved to the side of the table and unbuckled his belt.
The sound of leather sliding free made Alex’s hips jerk again.
Selene first.
She climbed onto the table with fluid grace, knees bracketing Alex’s shoulders.
The camisole rode high enough to reveal she wore nothing underneath.
She lowered herself slowly, giving Alex every second to watch in the mirror as soft, flushed skin descended toward their mouth.
“Hands stay cuffed,” she reminded, voice husky. “Tongue only.”
The first taste was warm, faintly salted, unmistakably her.
Alex licked instinctively, desperate to please, to prove something unnameable.
Selene exhaled approval and rocked forward, setting a languid rhythm that let Alex explore every fold.
The monitor sang.
Julian stood at the foot of the table, arms folded, watching his wife ride Alex’s mouth with the same cool attention he might give a lab culture.
After ninety measured seconds he tapped Selene’s thigh, time.
She rose, glistening lips swollen, eyes glittering.
“Female oral lead, enthusiastic technique, rapid adaptation. The patient's tongue pressure peaks when the clit is circled counter-clockwise.”
Julian took her place without ceremony.
He did not straddle; he simply opened his trousers enough to free himself, thick, flushed, already wet at the tip, and fed himself between Alex’s parted lips.
The stretch was immediate, overwhelming. Alex gagged once, then adjusted, hollowing cheeks, taking as much as the angle allowed.
Julian’s hand settled lightly at the base of Alex’s skull, not forcing, simply owning.
“Good,” he said quietly. “Breathe through your nose. Relax the throat. That’s it.”
Ninety seconds again. The monitor hit 178 beats per minute.
When he pulled out, a thin string of saliva connected them for a heartbeat before breaking.
Julian tucked himself away with infuriating calm.
Selene consulted the tablet. “Orgasm proximity ninety-six percent under male oral stimulus, ninety-one percent female. Margin of error shrinking. We need penetration data.”
Julian’s gaze flicked to his wife. Something wordless passed between them, competitive, fond, hungry.
“Untie the ankles only,” he decided. “Wrists remain. Bring the harness.”
Selene moved to a drawer and lifted a sleek black leather harness with a modestly sized silicone attachment, realistic, warmed already.
She stepped into it with practiced ease, adjusting straps until it sat flush against her hips like it had been molded for her.
Julian rolled a condom onto himself while Selene coated the silicone generously.
They worked in silence, the only sound Alex’s ragged breathing and the soft clink of a lube bottle against the tray.
Selene climbed back onto the table, positioning herself between Alex’s shaking thighs.
Julian moved to the head, cradling Alex’s face in both large hands.
“Look at me,” he said softly.
Alex did.
Selene entered them in one slow, controlled push.
The stretch burned beautifully. Alex cried out, raw, helpless, and Julian swallowed the sound with a kiss that felt almost gentle.
Selene set a deliberate rhythm, hips rolling, the harness base grinding against her own clit with every stroke.
Julian broke the kiss only to murmur against Alex’s lips, “Feel how perfectly she fills you. Watch her face in the mirror. See how much she loves fucking you while I watch.”
Alex’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. The reflection was obscene, Selene’s auburn hair loose now, swaying with each thrust; Julian’s hand splayed over Alex’s sternum, feeling the frantic heartbeat beneath bone.
After two minutes exactly, Julian tapped Selene’s shoulder again. They switched without discussion.
Julian lifted Alex’s hips higher, folding knees almost to chest, and slid home in a single thrust that punched the air from Alex’s lungs.
Selene knelt beside them, fingers circling Alex’s clit in time with her husband’s strokes, whispering filthy praise in French too fast for Alex to translate but not to feel.
The monitor screamed warnings: 195 beats per minute.
Julian’s control finally cracked, just a fraction.
His voice roughened. “Tell us,” he demanded, thrusting deep and holding. “Who is it? Who do you need?”