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Sara and Molly were sipping wine and sharing stories. Molly had flown across the Atlantic to finally visit her good friend Sara in the United Kingdom. The wine had loosened up their tongues, and Molly had just revealed a particularly naughty and slightly humiliating experience from some years back, leaving them both giggling merrily.
After they calmed down, Molly arched one eyebrow questioningly, and asked, “Well, my dear friend, what about you? Nothing similar to share?” She took a sip of wine, eyes twinkling a challenge over the rim of the glass.
Sara’s cheeks took on a slight hue of pink, and it wasn’t from the drinking. “Well…” she began, a little hesitantly, “you know that I had what I consider sort of a wild youth. At least I feel that way, looking back on it now.”
Molly grinned. “Yes? You can tell me anything you wish. After what I just shared, I doubt you have any reason to be bashful about any indiscretions.”
Slightly emboldened, Sara said, “Okay. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone, but I did have a threesome once.”
Molly’s eyes dilated in surprise and appreciation. Her mind immediately filled with images of two women and a man, or two men and a woman, all sweaty and tangled in piles of heaving erotic flesh. She had just that sort of imagination, and her panties dampened immediately. A little breathlessly, she cooed, “Oooo. Tell me, please. How did it happen?”
“Okay,” Sara responded, taking a sip of wine to either wet her throat or gather a little liquid courage. “This took place when I was 18. In those days, I was younger, stupider, and I liked to drink. I’d always tried to make friends and please people. But I was the world’s worst drinker, because I’d drink fast, to get over being nervous.”
Molly laughed softly, “I know how men like to be pleased.” She winked, imagining herself down on her knees with her lips pressed against a throbbing cock – or maybe on her hands and knees, being taken from behind. Her quick mind could flash scenes like these, and still hang onto the thread of the discussion. “But do go on. That must’ve been expensive, buying all those drinks,” she commented.
Sara smiled. “Oh no, not at all. I’d wear no bra, and something with a plunging neckline. The guys would love to buy me drinks, mostly so they could have a good look.” She winked back, saucily. Her eyes glazed over slightly as she recalled all those furtive – and not so furtive – glances down her blouse. She fondly remembered those expressions of lust, desire, and hope on their faces as they caught a look at her tits.
“So basically, the guys were plying you with alcohol, hoping to get into your pants?” Molly had personal experience in such tactics employed by horny men.
“Sure. And I let guys do that all the time, if I fancied them,” Sara whispered conspiratorially. “Anyway, on the night in question, I was drinking with these two guys, Tom and Mark. They were friends, and they went to the Uni.”
“They were your friends?” Molly asked. “And ‘Uni’ means a university?”
“No, I’d just met them. They were friends to one another. And yes, it means a university.”
“Is that different than a college? In America, people tend to use the words sort of interchangeably.”
“Well,” Sara explained, “to me, they mean vastly different things. You see, I went to a ‘college’ so I could study for a vocation, like engineering or even farming. Whereas, I feel that people attending a university are studying academics – the classics, and languages – things like that. I studied to get a job, and earn money, and I did. But at the time, I thought the Uni guys were the brightest minds around. And I only lived a mile or so from the university, so I saw a lot of them at the pubs, often showing off their knowledge to impress the women.”
“Okay, thanks for clearing that up for me, but I don’t want to derail this report of how you ended up in a threesome,” Molly said earnestly. She mentally chided herself for possibly distracting Sara from the flow of her recollection.
“Yes. As I said, they were buying me drinks, chatting me up, making me laugh. And they were self assured and good looking – you know, really dishy. I didn’t want to get too drunk, in case one of them wanted to do more than flirt, so I said I’d better stop, and head home. Of course, they asked where I lived.” Looking back on it, Sara could still remember how her heart accelerated when Mark had asked that question.
“Oh? They wanted to go home with you?” Molly had used the word ‘they’ since this was a story about a threesome.
“No. No. Nothing like that! I lived with my folks then. I’d never be able to take a guy home. I’d never have heard the end of it. When they learned I was not too far from the university, they suggested that we share a taxi to the university, where they had rooms, and then I could walk the short remaining distance home. And I’d be riding for free – they’d pay for the taxi.”
“That sounds both reasonable and nice,” Molly said, taking another sip of wine. “Did they ataköy masöz escort grope you in the taxi?” Her unquenchable curiosity about how these things get started prompted that question.
Sara giggled. “No. They were perfect gentlemen – just flirted a bit. I was really good looking, if I say so myself. A mere slip of a thing that made men feel all manly and protective.” She took a sip of wine, rolling it on her tongue, remembering. “Of course, when we got out of the taxi, they invited me up to see their rooms, and mentioned that we could have another drink or two.”
“A very blatant suggestion,” Molly murmured, nodding knowingly. She could rather guess what happened next.
“Yes, it was,” Sara agreed, smiling. “But remember, I sort of idolized Uni men, I was tipsy, and either of these two was good looking enough for me to want to see their rooms. So, up we went. I admit I was a little surprised at how small the rooms were, and a little miffed that each room only had a tiny single bed. But they did have the alcohol they’d promised, and we decided to play a card game.”
“A card game? That sounds rather tame.” She tried to keep the tone of disappointment out of her voice.
Sara giggled, sensing Molly’s dismay. “It was a stripping card game. It didn’t take too much to convince me to do things like that, when I’d had a few drinks. We played pontoon.”
“Pontoon? I’m not familiar with that name.” She had to ask. The only thing that the word ‘pontoon’ brought to mind was a floating bridge. She wondered if this might be some sort of bizarre card game where the loser had to lie on the floor while the others walked past, straddling them.
“You try to get points as close to 21 as possible without going over,” Sara explained.
“Oh! It sounds like a card game that we call blackjack,” Molly replied, catching on. She thought a moment, then added, “I’ve played strip poker, but never strip blackjack. It sounds like you might lose your clothes a lot faster playing pontoon.”
“Yes, our clothes came off pretty quickly. It wasn’t long before Tom was completely naked. I remember him being very embarrassed about that,” Sara shared, her lips curved into a mischievous grin.
“Embarrassed about being naked?” Molly asked. She sounded a bit incredulous, because she herself loved being naked. She hoped that Sara hadn’t gotten tangled up with a couple of prudes. Then she realized that if they’d really been prudes, they wouldn’t be playing such a card game.
“Yes. Well, more embarrassed about the fact that he had a massive erection. Mark thought it was really funny, seeing his friend naked with his huge cock pointing up like that. He was making a lot of jokes about it. I also found his predicament a little funny.”
Molly tilted her head, questioningly. “So were you making fun of Tom, also?”
“Oh no! Not at all! I loved seeing that cock of his, mainly because it had such a wide girth. I’ve always been a ‘girth’ girl, and his was really wide.” She chuckled. “I felt rather sorry for Tom, being ridiculed by his friend like that. The problem was, I said to him that I thought he was cute like that. He didn’t like me saying that very much.”
“I can imagine he wouldn’t,” Molly agreed with a smug grin on her face. “Men like to be called rugged, manly, and handsome. I think they’d rather we use the word ‘cute’ for babies and kittens.” The two friends laughed together about that.
Sara continued, “At that point, I think I was wearing only my socks and knickers. I really didn’t mind showing off my body – I actually liked showing it – because I thought it looked pretty and sexy. But I usually lacked the nerve to let men see it unless I was a little drunk, to overcome my nervousness.”
She took another sip of wine. “After a couple more hands, I was naked also. Once a person was naked, if they lost, they had to do dares.” This last part was uttered with a slight catch in her voice.
“Did the dares start out small? Like, give me a kiss?” Molly asked, wondering how slowly this progressed.
Sara’s free hand subconsciously went in front of her mouth, signaling surprise. “Oh no! My first dare was from Mark, and it was to give him a blow job.”
Molly’s shock was mitigated by the understanding that all three players in this scenario were inebriated, with lowered inhibitions. Trying to visualize that moment, she asked, “Was Mark naked also at that point?”
Sara tittered. “No. But for me to do the dare he opened his pants and fish out his dick.”
“Well, that was nice of him,” Molly commented dryly. “At least he didn’t make you do all the work.” Sara smiled and laughed at Molly’s tone.
“So you just sucked on Mark’s cock for a little while, and the dare was over?” That seemed a logical question to ask, calculating that the men would rather save their erections for some serious fucking.
Sara’s cheeks showed spots of crimson. “It was a little bit longer, because I sucked it until he spurted into my mouth.”
Molly’s ataköy otele gelen escort eyes got big. “You took him to completion?” Molly quivered with delight, imagining that rush of fresh hot semen erupting in her own mouth. “Mmmm,” she hummed and asked a very pertinent question. “Did you swallow it?”
“It was a bit hazy, I admit. But I’m pretty sure I remember drooling it into the bin – what you would call a wastebasket. At least I’m positive I did that when I gave Tom his blow job.” She could clearly recall that long white strand of semen stretching from her lips down to the wads of paper in the bin. She even had a recollection of how her pussy had been aching to be stretched open, just as her lips had been.
Giggling, Molly said, “So they both got their blow jobs and the evening was over? That was your threesome?” She thought, “No wonder Sara was reticent to tell people about this escapade. How disappointing!”
Sara grinned, belying Molly’s speculation. “Molly, you’ve got to remember, these were young blokes. They had very quick recovery capabilities. After a couple of more games with the cards, and some groping and touching. the dares had elevated to the point of fucking me. And that’s when Mark took the rest of his clothes off, so all three of us were now naked. Since I was agreeing that they could fuck me, I demanded that they bag up – I had that much presence of mind.”
“Does ‘bag up’ mean they had to wear condoms?” She was pretty sure that was a British term.
“Oh yes. Sorry. That’s how I talk about it.”
“That must’ve been a great sight,” Molly murmured. “Two young naked men with big fat erections, even if they were wearing condoms.” She sighed, wishing she’d been there.
“It wasn’t all that clear of a sight. I was dazed with drink, and they dimmed the lights in the room. I think they did that because they didn’t really want to see the other guy’s erection. It was like they were going to turn gay if they saw a cock for too long!”
“You think they were homophobic?” Molly inquired, wondering why homophobes would ever consider getting into a MMF sexual situation.
“Maybe, judging from what happened when they tried to put the three of us together on that single bed. There was no way that was going to work. But they tried. Mark was under me, and Tom was on top of me. I wasn’t that tall, compared to them, so I wasn’t much of a buffer between them. And very quickly they were yelling at each other – things like ‘get your hand off my cock!’ and ‘dammit, don’t touch me there!’ and ‘what the fuck are you doing? Get your hand off my arse!’ and things like that. It was really ruining the mood. Two guys in bed with me, freaking out when one touches the other isn’t the stuff of magical seduction, I can tell you.”
Molly closed her eyes a moment, concentrating on Sara’s statement of their positions. Then she spoke up. “But Sara, in that arrangement, unless Tom was going to fuck your bum, they’d have to try to shove both their cocks into your pussy at the same time! Their cocks would be rubbing against each other! That doesn’t sound like their plan, if they were complaining like that!”
Sara bit a fingernail, re-thinking it. “Yes… that sounds correct.” She got a shocked look on her face. “You know, I just now realized that they were probably planning to use both my holes! One in my pussy, and the other up my arse! Even inebriated, I wouldn’t have allowed that. That’s not at all interesting for me.” She was quiet for a bit, and added, “That’s strange. All these years later, and I’d never thought of that before.” She looked pensive.
“Maybe I have a way of helping a person visualize the scene from a new perspective,” Molly said, smiling. “I’m using your description to paint a mental image of the guys, their room, and the interactions between you three. That’s why I ask for clarification, at times.”
“Your questions are really helping it come back into my memory more clearly. It’s fascinating, sort of reliving it now.”
“So the bed didn’t work out. Did you actually get fucked that night at all?” Molly asked softly.
Sara nodded emphatically. “Oh, yes!” Her eyes twinkled.
“How? On that skinny bed? All three of you? Or maybe in sequence?”
“No. We ended up with me bent over a chair, with one of them in front of me, and the other one behind me!” Sara giggled, remembering her position. “My hands were braced on the chair seat, its back was level with my waist, and my legs were spread apart. One of them was busy rogering my pussy, while the other held my head and fucked my mouth.” Subconsciously, she smacked her lips as if tasting something.
Molly did a quick scan of her friend’s height. “Umm. Given that you’re rather short, it’s hard to imagine the back of the chair being low enough for you to bend over it comfortably.”
The embarrassed flush on Sara’s cheeks spread slowly down onto her neck. Taking a quick sip of wine, she confessed, “They had to put ataköy rus escort two stacks of books on the floor by the chair legs for me to stand on.” She broke into a nervous giggle, imagining what that must’ve looked like, had the room lights been on fully. If someone had observed her from behind, he’d have had a glorious view of her bum, held up high by the chair’s back, and her long, shapely legs spreading out in an inverted ‘V’ shape. And her feet perched ridiculously on those tomes of knowledge.
Molly caught on, and laughed along with her. “Very adventurous of you, and somewhat acrobatic! I wish I’d been there to cheer you on.” After their laughter quieted, she asked, “So did the guys switch ends?”
Sara’s eyes seemed to glow as she recalled that moment. “Several times. I think they couldn’t decide which was more thrilling – using my mouth or using my pussy. It was rather nice when they changed, because during the first mouth fucking I was only tasting the condom. But after that, it was always flavored with my pussy juices.” Her blush, which had faded, returned. “I must confess I rather like the taste of my juices.”
“As do I,” Molly said. Seeing a startled look on Sara’s face, she quickly clarified, “I meant the taste of my own pussy juices. I wasn’t referring to the taste of yours, which I’ve never sampled.” After a brief pause, she smiled impishly, “Not that I wouldn’t give it a go, mind you.” And she winked, making Sara giggle and quickly sip her wine again, obviously pleased to be teased like that.
“I’ve just thought of a further confirmation of your theory, Molly,” Sara confided. “At one point, one of them behind me – I can’t remember if it was Tom or Mark – poked his johnson at my butt hole. The moment I felt that, I pulled my lips off the other guy’s pecker and said something like ‘hey! get away from there!’ with an angry voice. Whoever it was called out ‘sorry! slipped!’ as if I’d believe that!” She laughed. “No fucking of my bum! I clenched so tight you couldn’t have got a pin in there!” Both women’s eyes twinkled with delight at that imagery.
“Other than the rude poking at your bum, did you have a good time? Did you get to cum at all?”
“Oh my word, yes!” Sara chortled. “I’d started the evening horny, and got my pussy fucked royally! I came several times before they unloaded into their condoms! And this time, after their climaxes, they did go limp. I was pleased enough that I eased off the condoms, tossed them into the bin, and gave their cocks a cleaning with my tongue before I left.”
“How did you get home? It must’ve been very late by then.”
Sara had set her wine glass down. Placing both her hands over her eyes, she pantomimed being mortified. Parting her hands to look into Molly’s face she grinned impishly, “I did the walk of shame, of course. I sneaked out of that room in the early hours, and walked the mile to my home in the cool night air. I had my own key to let myself in, which I did very, very gingerly. Thank goodness the walk and the air had sobered me enough to open the door without it rattling and waking anyone, especially my dad.”
Molly could well understand the idea of not waking up the folks after such a night of wonderful debauchery.
“I slipped into my bed – collapsed into it, actually. And woke up the next morning with an aching pussy. They’d worked me over pretty well.” She smiled. “These days, I mainly remember the funniness of it all… the embarrassed boys that I thought were men… bright ones at that. I see them now and I just think they look… scruffy.”
Molly almost spit out her last swig of wine, laughing at that declaration. “Well, now I understand pretty well what happened at your male-male-female threesome, Sara. Maybe you and I should go out tonight, find some guy we both think looks better than scruffy, and have ourselves a good old-fashioned female-female-male threesome. What do you say?”
Before Sara could respond, Molly held up a finger as a signal she had something additional to say. “It just occurred to me that while many men dream to have such a threesome – getting together with two lovely, willing women for an evening of wild sex – most realize quickly that they’ve gotten into a situation that they can’t handle. The excitement of fondling four breasts… seeing and touching two pink, wet pussies… having four feminine hands stroking their cock and balls… well, it’s just too much for them. They ejaculate prematurely, and then their dicks wilt and shrivel, leaving our needs unfulfilled.”
During this recitation, Molly’s hand had crept up under her skirt to cup her sex in an unconscious act of commiseration for such a frustrating possibility. “Now you might think they’d switch to cunnilingus, and use their tongues to satisfy us, but many find that act ‘unmanly’ or some such nonsense. They think only a cock thrust into a vagina is the correct thing to do. So, try as we might, such a poor fellow would groan pitifully as we used our hands and mouths to try to bring his cock back to life – to give it the rampant stiffness that we so keenly would need. We might trail our hair seductively over his skin, rub our tits in his face, or on his chest and belly. We might part our labia, and show him our pussy openings – wet… clenching and dilating, yearning to be filled. But alas, he’d be spent for hours, if not the entire night.”
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