How do I begin this?
What is it they always say - "well, start at the beginning".
But where is the beginning?
I think the beginning was several months ago. It was supposed to be an impromptu girls night out but it turned out to be just me and Randi with everyone else backing out at the last moment. I wasn't in any rush to get home to the boyfriend, so I kept to the plans to meet after work, even though I was not looking forward to it nearly as much with each person that backed out. When it finally dwindled to just me and Randi, I almost backed out myself. Randi is the new girl to the office. Randi is, how can I say this delicately, different. She's a bit more rough than me and the other girls. Many of the ladies have a tatoo; most around their ankle, though a few have a "tramp stamp". Randi has several tatoos, all of which she does manage to keep covered during the business day, but it does take her more effort than anyone else to cover them all. On the rare occasion when she wears a skirt, she will then wear black stockings to conceal the tatoo running the length of her leg. Tatoos were just the beginning of Randi's being a bit more unique in our office. She was more likely to curse and cursing always involved saying "fuck". I think Randi would have been every bit at home in any biker bar. When it came time to leave work, I was not at all sure what the evening was going to be like.
Another thing about Randi is how easy it is to be around her. She could fit into our professional office and she could be equally at home in a biker bar because she seemed to have a way of making everyone around her immediately feel completely at ease. Why am I spending so much time talking about Randi? Because I don't think I would have had the "ball's" to do any of what followed if it had not been for my talking with Randi. She not only made you feel comfortable, she made any subject seem comfortable to talk about.
We had dinner and drank. Randi was not a wine drinker. Nope, Randi preferred beer - Bud Light in a bottle, not a can, and certainly not on draft. The more we drank the wilder the conversation became. We started with the normal girl talk. I was curious about her tatoos. She wasn't hesitant to show them off to me; not even in the bar, much to the delight of several of the men who turned to watch. She began telling me more about her history and there was certainly a lot to tell. She was telling me about being out on a date once and the guy was being a typical butt-head. He kept on so she said she just got up from the table, told him to "fuck off", took her Bud Light (funny how Bud Light was in many of her stories), and walked over to sit at a table with two guys. I noticed how she kind of fast forwarded to another story, so I stopped her to ask what happened the rest of that night. She laughed and said she spent the night dancing with the two of them, changing sides of the table to rotate sitting by one and then the other, and that they were perfect gentlemen the entire night. They even made sure she got home safe and sound, since she had told her date to "fuck off". I took a drink of my Bud Light and said to wait just a second, there was no way I could believe that at least one of them, even if they were gentlemen, didn't try to hit on her. She took a drink from her bottle, then added that they had. "Well", I asked. "I didn't go home until the next morning", she said. "So, who did you sleep with?". She paused, took another swig, then said, "both of them".
It was the way she said "both of them"
I think it was that moment which was the beginning.
Randi's tale is a story to be told later. What is important for now is that, since then, I have been fascinated myself with the thought of being with two men. And being the chronic over-achiever that I have always been, I will be honest and say my thoughts have also often included more than just two men as well. I made her talk about it that night. I even coyly met her other nights after work to get her to talk more about it. It turns out that was not her first threesome. I was hooked.
My fantasies never included my boyfriend.
I wasn't really sure why we were still even together. Convienience maybe. Finances certainly. We were locked into a rental that neither of us could afford individually. It most assuredly was not the sex. My boyfriend wasn't interested. Now, let me set the scene. I am not a bad looking woman; very early 30's, average height, light brown hair, and a killer set of breasts, even if I do say so myself. Neither Randi nor I needed to buy many of our own drinks whenever we went out for a girls night (for me to drill her about her sex life). I think my legs are my beast feature; firm with great shape. What I am saying is that I looked pretty damned good in bed. And yes, let me be clear on that as well - I love to fuck. I have never told my boyfriend "no" and if he would have expressed any interest in doing me nightly even, then in all probability I would have eagerly put out for him. Even with my current indifference towards him, if he would need some, then I think I would have provided him with an outlet. As it was, the only sex we ever had was when I came onto him and that was not all that often anymore.
So, to repeat, my fantasies never included my boyfriend.
My position takes me out of town several times a year; sometimes monthly for several months on end. Believe it or not, but I've never cheated on my boyfriend. I do care about him. Or did. I don't want to see him hurt. But I think about not being with him. And that has nothing to do with anything except to suggest I was primed for doing something so totatlly not me. I thought more and more about my friend Randi's adventure with two men. I couldn't get the thought out of my head of two men needing me and taking their turns with me and not even taking turns, but having me at the same time. I live in a reasonably small town, so this was definately an out of town sort of fantasy.
I have not yet lived the fantasy. Its an adventure yet to be had and a tale yet to be told.
I did meet someone though. I was standing in the hotel lobby when he literrally bumped into me. He made me laugh and we ended up going for a drink together. He wasn't two men, but God knows he more than made up for it. He fucked me four times that night, once more in the morning before I went to work, then again at lunchtime back in his room. The last time at lunch wasn't even supposed to happen. I hadn't had time to check out of my room that morning, since I'd been getting hammered in his room again, so needed to go back to the hotel at lunchtime to check out. He called me at about the same time, asking where I was and if I would like to do lunch. He was in his room and I slutfully said I would be right up instead. Playing the slut all the way, I kissed him in the hallway when he opened the door. He pulled me in, closed the door, and bent me over right there. He didn't undress me. I had on a skirt which I guess he took as "easy access". He flipped my skirt, pulled my panties aside and plugged my wetness. He took my arms behind my back and balanced me himself while he fucked me long and hard. I guess cumming five times himself meant he was a bit spent. I think I paid the price for his being spent in that he fucked me solid like that for twenty minutes. That may not seem like a long time to you, but you try being bent over, arms pinned behind you, completely at someone's will, and have your body getting hammered repeatedly for twenty minutes. I was in heaven. Sigh. Making the long drive back to home, I was sitting carefully. My poor girl had never been fucked so much in one day and certainly had never had that much cum pumped into her. Before we kissed good-bye in the parking lot, I told him that I was sure I was going to be leaking his cum for the next week. He just smiled, giving me his number, telling me to let him know when I wanted a refill.
I would like to tell you that I smiled all the way back home. The truth is that once I was back on the interstate, fantasy left and reality returned. I was eaten up with guilt. I felt so bad for the way I had treated my boyfriend. I had cheated on him. I had behaved in ways with some stranger that I had never behaved like with the man who loved me and trusted me. I cried a little bit. I promised myself that I would return home and be a new woman for him. If he needed me to be the aggressor all the time, that was a small price to pay for all that he did for me. I called home and he was actually cooking a homecoming dinner for me.
He was in the kitchen when I came into the apartment. He always went back out to get my bags for me, so I walked straight into the kitchen to say "hi". I desperately wanted to get a shower. I felt unclean. I couldn't start over with my boyfriend until I had washed the other man's smell from me. I felt like his cum was pooling in the crotch of my panties. I was hesitant to go into the kitchen, but had convinced myself that not going would make me look even more guilty. I would make it a quick hello and say how much I needed a shower before we ate.
"You look nice", he said, turning from the stove.
Guilt bells rang in my head. He knows. No, wait, he's just being polite, don't over-react. "Thank you, you're being too sweet. I know that I need a shower badly".
I spun on my heel to leave when his arm snaked around me to pull me back. He buried his face into my neck. Instinctively, I tilted my head to give him better access. "What am I doing", I screamed to myself, "you just gave him your neck to smell". It had been instinct. I am a sucker for a man's lips along my neck.
He pulled me back tighter towards him. His hand snaked into my blouse and beneath my bra. "Very nice", he said again, with emphasis. I could feel him pressing up behind me into my skirt. HE WAS HARD!
Oh my God, I couldn't remember the last time he made a move on me. Now, when I've been fucked six times in one day, when my cunt was still leaking cum, now he gets all horny and needs to fuck me.
He pulled his hand out of my bra. It wasn't because he was stopping. Hardly. He took the bottom of my blouse and pulled it over my head. I didn't resist. I didn't know what to do.
With me standing there now only in my bra, skirt, and heels, he returned to nuzzling my neck. Have I mentioned how much I love that? "Give me five minutes to get a quick shower and I'll meet you in the bedroom", I offered.
He continued at my neck. My nipples were hardening. Deep down my pussy was screaming at me - not again woman!
"No", he said, "now".
It was not what I wanted, but I didn't want to resist him too much. I started to move towards the bedroom, but he had replaced his arm from around my neck, his hand cupping my breast.
"No", he whispered into my ear, "here".
Oh God No! "I really need a shower Sweetie, five minutes".
He wouldn't stop with my neck. He began to squeeze my hardened nipples. "Dammit, he knew my body was responding", I cursed in my head. Okay, I had no idea what had gotten into him, but I could tell he was not going to be denied. I needed to change up tactics. I slid my hand behind my back down towards his dick. Cupping him, I said that I could tell how much in need he was, "would you like a blowjob here".
He paused on my neck. His hand cupped my breast firmly. I had gotten his attention. Hurray for me. And yes, I will admit it now, I am not the blowjob queen. Its not that I won't do them. Its just not my particular favorite thing to do. And given the infrequency of our sex life, it happens very rarely. I was sure I had him. I can't say I was looking forward to this either. But I had promised to be a new girl for him, I guess this was going to be part of that. Blowjobs, oh boy . . . not.
"Tempting", he said finally and then caught me off guard with, "bend over". He gently pushed me himself, while gripping me at the waist too, delicately making me bend over. He lifted my skirt, not unlike what had happened to me earlier that day. A moment later, I was being fucked for the seventh time less than a day.
"What the fuck", I thought.
Unlike my lunchtime fuck mate, my boyfriend told me to grab the floor. I tried to slip out of my heels. He told me to leave them on. "Okay", I thought, "who is this guy and what did he do with my boyfriend".
I never felt more like a slut than I did in that moment. I had been with men before. My boyfriend was not my first. I had even had one night stands before. All fantasies aside, I had never actually fucked too dicks in the same day. And now I had one dick being shoved into me while the cum from the other dick was still up inside of me. Yeah, I know, I'm a contradiction. I fantasize about having a gang bang, but then feel like a slut for having two men fuck me in the same day.
"You're soaking wet . . . you wanted me too you little slut".
"No," I thought, "that's another man's cum your feeling around your dick up inside of me".
There I was. Bent over at the waist, legs spread wide, with my hands on the floor. My skirt was flipped up over my waist and my cum soaked panties were laying on the floor beside me. "Oh God, he has got to be able to see the stains". I still have my heels on and my bra, my blouse was tossed across the room. I guess he was making sure I wouldn't put it back on. And the boyfriend was standing behind me, fully inserted into my already well fucked pussy. I could see his legs between mine. He was just standing there, hands firmly gripping my hips, just enjoying his moment.
Generally, he fucks much like his personality - slow and steady. Like everything else about today, nothing was normal and typical. He held me there for what seemed like forever. He began to thrust a few times into me, the usual slow and steady, when he SPANKED ME?!?!?! Startled, I tried to look over my shoulder. Interesting, now that I look back at it, that I didn't try to stand up and get away from him instead. He smacked my ass again. Then on the other side. And these were not your delicate little love taps. I know damned well he left a hand print.
Never had I felt more submissive than I did in that moment.
"Why are you spanking me?"
"You've been a bad girl", he said, smacking my ass again for emphasis.
HE KNEW. It was all I could think. He had to know. That would explain his complete personality change. How? How did he know?
"How?"
"How what!", he said smacking my ass yet again.
"How was I bad, sir", I guessed he was meaning for me to say "sir", figuring that he wasn't actually meaning for me to ask him how did he know.
He spanked my other ass cheek this time - they were both definately going to be red later - saying, "you tell me, bad girl, don't you know?"
"I spent the night with another man's dick in my cunt", I thought to myself. Wisely, I said, "It's been too long since I've made love to your dick". I could not believe the words which came out of my mouth! Okay, where was Rachel and what did I do with her too?
"Sir", he added, smacking my ass again.
"Sir," I finished quickly.
"What else", he added, rubbing my tender ass cheek suggestively instead of smacking it out right; the carrot instead of the stick so to speak.
"I will do anything you want" . . . and in that moment, I really meant it too.
"Head?"
"Is that what you would like", I asked him.
"Will you swallow?"
"Yes sir". Okay, now you know that too. I have given head. Like I said, it is not my most favorite thing in the world to do. But I think I have swallowed maybe just twice in my life. This being a new woman for my boyfriend was really starting to blow . . . literrally.
Suprisingly, he didn't release me for me to get down onto my knees for him. All this time, he'd mostly just been standing behind me, holding me impaled fully upon his dick. Now he began to fuck me in earnest. He gripped the sides of my ass so hard that I was able to see red marks several days later. He began to pound me furiously with deep, long, hard thrusts. I could hear him grunting on each thrust. He didn't start slow and build up. He just started. The only sound that could be heard for the next while was the sounds of his body colliding into mine, the wet sound of his dick thrusting fully into my pussy, and his grunting.
I loved the sound of his grunting.
Thinking about it now, I can't recall him ever grunting from fucking me before. It was so cute. He probably wouldn't like hearing me call it that. He would have probably preferred, "yes, claim your bitch sir, fill me with your cum".
His grunting became more intense.
I am not normally a talker, despite that stuff coming out of my mouth earlier. Neither was he actually. I sensed he was getting closer to cumming from the way he was grunting and thrusting into me. I did say, 'cum in me Sir, cum in me".
I think he must have loved that because he began smacking my ass hard then, timing each slap with a thrust.
I tried to push him along a bit more too. I tried, clumsily I am sure, to talk dirty with each thrust.
"Cum in me".
"Fuck me".
"Fill me up".
And the one I was most proud of being able to say - meaning that I am shocked to think I said it - "keep spanking me, don't stop until you cum inside of me".
He did just that too. Smacking my ass with each thrust. If he wasn't holding my ass with his other hand, I am sure his thrusts would have sent me toppling over. He got closer with each thrust. His grunting was louder. His spankings were harder. God my ass was stinging. I moaned for him. Hell, I screamed for him.
And he came.
Afterwards, like before, he held me there, bent over, his dick still deep inside of me. I wanted to move. But this fuck was not about me. He had wanted it. He had wanted me. And I let it stay about him. I hadn't came (I'd done that enough last night). He felt good. I still felt guilty, but this helped. I don't know what had gotten into him - and I really hoped it wasn't because he suspected something - but I think I liked it. When he pulled me upright finally, he held me for a moment, his dick still just managing to hang on inside of me. But the reason he held me, I think, was my head was spinning from being bent over like that for so long. When he slipped out of me finally, I turned to kiss him. Then, and if you really knew me you would know just how not-like-me what I did next was, I slowly lowered myself down onto my knees before him and cleaned his dick with my tongue. A tiny remote part of my brain wondered if I was taking two different men's semen into my mouth just then.
Cleaning his dick, I silently promised myself that I would be a different girlfriend for him.
Its been a few days now since then. I mean it still.
Only I notice that I haven't thrown away the phone number I had been slipped yet.
Why did I put this picture in for my banner? I'd say it turned me on, but then it seems like anymore that everything turns me on. I just really liked it when I saw it. To me, it was romantic, sensual, and summed up everything I wanted in a relationship. I can see her coming home from work, his meeting her at the door, and his needing her so badly that he couldn't wait the time it would take to get into the bedroom. I had not thought about it before this moment, but it just occurs to me that the last two men I have been with each took me nearly as soon as I came through the doorway. And those were the two times I described most fully for my first entries. I wonder what that says about me?