by Abby Lee
But I was getting frustrated. With Tim there I couldn’t even play with myself, let alone him. Swinging must be great, but only if you’ve got someone to shag, that is.
Worn out with horniness, I suggested we leave and Tim and I made our way downstairs to get dressed. After I exited the changing room, the guy who winked at me suddenly approached me, his girlfriend on his arm, both of them looking spent and friendly.
He handed me their phone number and said they would love to entertain me this weekend and would I call them if I was interested?
My heart raced with excitement and I smiled, saying yes I would.
And I think I just might.
Wednesday 15th June
Blog Boy rang tonight. We talked about his work getting in the way and laughed as innuendo somehow seeped into our conversation.
I know the fact that we talked about sex doesn’t mean anything – I’d be stupid to think it did – but I can’t help but wonder if maybe he is getting second thoughts about the whole ‘friends’ thing.
The way we are flirting right now makes me think that maybe something will happen with him – even though he is going abroad soon.
I guess if he did want to test the water and date me, I wouldn’t say no.
Certainly not if a shag with him was on the cards.
Thursday 16th June
I finally plucked up the courage to ring Ellie and Will, the good-looking couple from the nudist spa. I don’t know why I was so nervous: they took turns on the phone, chatting to me in a friendly way, and immediately put me at ease – there weren’t any awkward silences during the conversation.
I suppose I initially felt a bit odd because it’s not every day that you phone someone to make a plan to have your first threesome. But after our half-hour flirty talk, I feel much more relaxed about the whole idea and we have now arranged for me to visit them tomorrow evening.
I can’t wait.
Friday 17th June
Ellie picked me up in her car and we drove to Will’s flat in Barnet. How appropriate, I thought, going to suburbia for a hot night of swinging.
It was Ellie’s idea for us to meet up beforehand; she said she wanted to put me at ease and that there was no pressure to do anything because this night was about having fun and getting to know one another.
But, she added, if we were to all end up in bed together, she wanted to establish some ground rules first. We discussed the basics: safe sex, full consent, no pain, likes and dislikes. It all seemed pretty straightforward. I was going to have sex with Ellie and her boyfriend. Yippee – my first threesome!
However, it turned out it wasn’t as simple as that. As we pulled into the driveway on the estate, Ellie mentioned that she had one main rule for the evening.
‘What’s that?’ I asked, thinking that she might say ‘no photographs’ or something like that.
‘You’re not allowed to fuck Will,’ Ellie replied. ‘You can do anything else, but penetration with him is exclusive to me.’ She put her hand on my knee and smiled.
Oh great. The one thing that I enjoy and now it’s off the menu – fabulous. How helpful that she waited till we got here to tell me that. If she had mentioned it before, I might have been able to bail out. Now I am stuck, committed to a threesome where I don’t get fucked.
I looked at Ellie for a moment. Her top was open and I could see her cleavage poking through it. My pussy responded to the sight.
Fuck it, I thought. I’m not going to get any cock tonight, but at least I can finally learn what it is like to go all the way with a woman.
I put my hand on Ellie’s knee and she leaned in to kiss me.
The night had begun.
It didn’t take long for things to really get underway; two bottles of wine in and Ellie was flirting with me on the couch while Will looked on eagerly.
Ellie and I started to kiss again and she quickly pulled off my top and started stroking my boobs.
‘God, that’s so hot,’ Will murmured. ‘You both look beautiful.’
I grinned at him and wondered if he was getting an erection. I was certainly wet.
I removed Ellie’s top too and we rubbed our tits together. It felt lovely. We started tugging off the rest of our clothing and beckoned to Will to join us. He didn’t waste any time stripping off, and, cock sticking out like a flagpole, slid his arms around both our waists and kissed us each alternately.
It felt delicious. The contrast of his rough face against my lips and then her smooth one was divine; I wanted to fuck them both simultaneously.
After a while, Will pulled back. ‘I want to watch you both,’ he said, his hand slowly stroking his cock.
Ellie and I obliged. We lay on the sofa cushions and kissed and stroked each other, her fingers pushing between my wet thighs, mine between hers.
So, this is what it is like to finger a girl, I thought, as I felt her wetness and circled her clit slowly. She moaned and I slipped a finger inside her, shocked by the heat of her. She rocked against me and I pushed another finger inside as she gasped in delight.
Will was getting more and more excited; he’d alternate between stroking my breasts, kissing Ellie and then switching back. It felt lovely.
Except for one thing. She was crap at fingering.
I suppose I had expected that, being a girl, she would know what to do, but I soon realised that sharing the same physiological make-up is irrelevant when it comes to sexual skills. Ellie fingered me as if she was polishing an ornament and trying to rub out a tough stain. It hurt, and was pretty unpleasant.
I was trying to be polite though – I was, after all, being given the opportunity to shag two people at once. I should be nice about it. So I didn’t ask her to adapt her technique but just flinched and dried up and wondered how much longer I could hold out for.
Thankfully Will took over; his deftness immediately brought me close to an orgasm. I would have climaxed too, if it were not for Ellie suddenly saying she was uncomfortable with him fondling me and that she wanted him to stop.
Oh great. So I’m on the verge of finally getting off and now she doesn’t want him fingering me. I thought it was just his cock off the cards? Now it’s his hands too?
I felt robbed, but yet again I didn’t say anything. It seemed inappropriate somehow.
When Ellie got down on her knees and suggested I join her sucking Will’s penis, I relaxed again – at least I was going to get some cock action tonight.
So we sucked and lapped and licked and kissed together and it was good again; I felt connected to them both, involved and very turned on.
After a while, Will pushed us both onto our knees in front of him and we presented our arses side by side. I heard Ellie gasp and looked back to see Will sliding his dick into her. At the same time, he slid three fingers into me and for a moment, he fucked both of us; one with his cock, the other with his hand. We all moaned together.
But when Ellie then noticed that Will had his fingers inside me, she suddenly jumped up and stormed off. Will removed his hand and went after her, licking his fingers as he did so and shooting me a sly look, whispering to me ‘You taste beautiful,’ as he left the room.
I lay there, unfulfilled and frustrated and attempted to wank to relieve myself.
I could hear them arguing next door: Ellie accusing Will of crossing their boundaries, him defensively saying that his cock had gone nowhere near me. They shouted for a while and then I heard her crying. Finally Will came back into the room and I, somewhat guiltily, stopped playing with myself.
‘Ellie’s a bit upset,’ he explained. ‘She’s gone to bed. I’m going to join her.’
I nodded and shrugged.
‘Sorry about things,’ Will said. ‘I guess we thought we were ready to do this, and we weren’t.’
I tried to smile and not think about Will’s cock and how horny I still felt. All I needed was a quick rub …
‘Look,’ Will said, ‘If you’re ever up for it in the future, you know our number. Do give u
s a call.’
‘Sure thing,’ I said, lying.
Will grinned and then kissed me on the lips. ‘See you in the morning,’ he said, leaving me alone in the living room.
I lay there and tried to refocus on the task at hand: giving myself some release. A few minutes later, after a hot thought involving Blog Boy’s tongue lapping at me, I was done.
But I couldn’t sleep; my mind was too busy.
I waited for daylight to arrive and when it did I got dressed, grabbed my things and left.
I spent the time thinking about what had happened as I waited for the first tube home. It all seemed to have gone horribly wrong. It has certainly made me think twice about what it might be like if I was in a relationship and we dabbled in a threesome.
I thought that the group thing was supposed to be easy? I guess I am learning that it is a lot more complicated than it appears.
Especially when feelings are involved.
Sunday 19th June
After the threesome with Ellie and Will turned sour, I’ve been revisited by memories of some other awful sexual encounters. Thankfully, most of them aren’t recent.
Years ago I slept with a man who was dreadful in bed. He was beautiful, and I assumed wrongly that his bedroom skills would be as glorious as his looks, but my opinion proved totally misplaced.
I was 18 at the time, naïve and sexually inexperienced but curious. I was working in TV, mingling with the ‘rich’, ‘famous’ and seemingly ‘glamorous’. I enjoyed my social life and the attention I got from men. I was hungry for new experiences.
So when this outgoing, funny, drop-dead gorgeous man from Los Angeles joined our department for a short time, I eyed him up with some interest. Not that I was the only one; I noticed how all the women preened themselves when he walked into the room, flirting with him and laughing outrageously at his jokes. Here was a fantastically sexy, charming man, and he was single. Every woman was out to bed him.
Not me though. He was 36. I figured he would never be interested in a young girl like me. In my naïveté and ignorance, I truly never thought he would be interested in me because of this very fact.
So, when he flirted with me, I just took it as friendly work banter and thought nothing of it, and when he asked if I would show him round the city, it just seemed like an innocent request, albeit one that flattered me immensely.
It only struck me that he was attracted to me after the arm he’d placed round my shoulder in the dark of the cinema slowly travelled down my neck and began fondling my breast. A cheesy move for a teenager, let alone someone 18 years my senior, but it felt nice, so I didn’t complain. When his hand wandered down my back and ended up caressing my arse, I didn’t stop him doing that either. It was only when his fingers slid in between my butt cheeks and began rubbing against the crotch of my tights that I pulled his hand away. I felt embarrassed, self-conscious, dirty. We were in public after all.
But I liked what he had been doing. Even with my inexperience, I knew how aroused he had made me, so when he suggested going somewhere private, I agreed, and we left the cinema pronto.
We ended up at his friends’ house in a beautiful bedroom complete with a four-poster bed, white drapes over the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and candles on the oak floor. A recipe for romance, one would think. Wrong.
It all started off well: sensual kissing, some gentle breast play, but as if he’d suddenly pressed his foot down on the accelerator, he went from stroking me one moment to ramming his fingers in and out of me as hard and fast as he could the next. I wasn’t even wet. It hurt and I tried to get him to slow down, but he just fumbled and tried to push his fingers inside me again, and I got more and more turned off.
Looking back, I am a little surprised at how bad he was. I mean, not only was he 36 and surely should have known better, but when I tried to guide him and show him what I liked and how he could turn me on (and, obviously, get me wet enough for his cock to fuck me), he just wasn’t interested. It was as if he had a preconceived idea about what sex between us should be like and he wasn’t going to alter his plans no matter what, even if that meant I didn’t enjoy myself at all. Of course I was too amateurish myself then to either insist on a different course of action, or to try to switch the attention onto him, so that his heavy-handedness wasn’t so apparent.
After much fumbling he put a condom on and attempted to enter me. It was pretty obvious it wasn’t going in; I was as dry as a bone at this point and the last thing that I wanted was a big cock forcefully rammed into me with no lubrication.
So, my pussy shut its doors and put up its ‘Closed’ sign: no entry to you, mate. He did try – for most of the night – but to no avail. No more sex was had, though he begged me to stick my tongue into his arsehole and jerk him off with my hands. He called it ‘tromboning’. I am pleased to say I politely declined: I am a good, clean English girl – the very thought!
In the morning we left for work together, but agreed to enter the office separately, so that people ‘wouldn’t talk’. We carried on our jobs as normal, no one guessed anything, and we barely spoke again. I didn’t feel any animosity towards him, but something more like pity, I suppose. When the other women in the office were drooling over him I just shut my mouth and kept quiet. No need to ruin their fantasies, or destroy his reputation or ego.
But thinking about it now, especially after Steven’s infidelity with a much younger woman, I understand how ignorant I was about the whole affair. Here was a man, twice my age, who tried to pressurise me into having sex when I didn’t want to.
What an arsehole.
Monday 20th June
Kathy’s boyfriend keeps looking at my breasts. Granted, they aren’t small bosoms, but he blatantly checks out my tits in front of her, and it’s really troubling me.
The thing is, I know that men look. That all men look. But surely they should do it surreptitiously and not in front of their potential/future wife’s eyes? His eyeballs, however, seem permanently locked onto my tits and he fixates on them whenever he is in the room with me, regardless of whether she’s there or not.
I can’t understand why he’s so obvious, given that:
I’m Kathy’s close friend;
Her boobs are bigger than mine;
We might both notice him looking.
It seems odd that he would take the risk of being found out by staring so blatantly. I’m sure Kathy knows he is looking, and if she doesn’t, that she would be thoroughly pissed off if she spotted him.
Without trying to blow my own trumpet, I’m not ruling out the possibility that maybe I represent some fantasy material for them both, and that not only does she know about his ogling, but that she quite enjoys it; that is all possible. But knowing Kathy, it’s not that likely.
Unfortunately it just seems that her partner has a wandering eye, and I suppose I can’t tell whether or not this brings his trustworthiness or fidelity into question.
I can’t jump to any conclusions here, or talk about it with Kathy – I have learned the hard way that these things are better left up to a couple to work out, without the interference of a caring friend.
Ten years ago, I lost my best friend of 14 years due to a similar circumstance. Becky and I grew up together and spent our childhoods, teens and early twenties as close as sisters. We confided everything in each other: first period, first cigarette and first boyfriend. She was there for me when a friend of mine committed suicide; I was there for her when her ex-boyfriend was convicted of a violent crime. We were inseparable.
Naturally we talked about sex. We even discussed experimenting with each other when we were drunk and curious, and we laughed about it afterwards. Always supportive, we were a crutch for each other to lean on when love dealt us the pain of heartbreak. We cried a lot together, and we shared everything.
So when her boyfriend handed me his pager number one night, laid his hand on my knee and breathed into my ear that if I ever wanted a fuck, I should call him, my first instinct was to ca
ll Becky and tell her what he had said. She was totally besotted with him – I thought she would want to know that he had made a move on me. I was so wrong.
At first she was stunned and angry and was going to dump him, but that soon changed. When he lied and said I’d come onto him, she swallowed every word and dumped me instead. Our last ever conversation was him screaming down the phone that I was a ‘lying cunt’ and a ‘fucking bitch’ while she wept in the background and I was too shocked to speak.
I haven’t seen her since, not for ten years. Happy end of friendship anniversary, Becky.
Of course I tried to rectify things with her. I spent months calling and writing letters, hoping that she would see some sense and know that it was him who was lying to her, not me. She didn’t want to hear, and shut me out of her life totally, staying in a relationship with him. The whole thing tore my heart apart; I felt the loss of her for many years.
I know that what happened says more about her being weak and an unloving, untrusting friend, than it does about me doing the ‘right thing’, but given the chance to go back in time, I wouldn’t tell her what he’d done. Rather, I would warn him to watch his fucking back, that he’d better not hurt her or else, but I would let her figure out for herself what a prick he was. That way I wouldn’t have lost my best friend.
Faced with this hindsight, I know that I cannot tell Kathy about her boyfriend’s roving eye. It seems almost futile, and it’s far too risky to be worth the bother. It makes me sad because I’d like to think that I am an open and dependable person who can tell the people I love what I think and feel, but given the danger of losing another friend, I think I’ll just stick with wearing baggy tops and letting my shoulders slouch when I am in front of him. If my tits are less noticeable, he’ll have less to look at and hopefully he’ll rest his eyes elsewhere in the future.