by Tanya Colt
We got to my doorstep and he kissed me.
“Hey Melissa, I mean... I don’t want to rush you or anything, but… I had a really great time. You are amazing.’
I stood there thinking, or trying to, at least. When I’d planned this date, I had gone all out with the “fuck me” look, pigtails and all. They were now gone, left back at the club after I’d been fucked, licked and showered. I still looked good, but not the temptress I had planned. Could I possibly fuck two guys in one night? I’d let more than one guy fuck me at the same time before, so why not? At least, that’s what I figured at the time.
“Wanna come up?” I asked without any more hesitation.
“Well, I like a woman that knows what she wants,” he said with a big smile. He knew he was going to get laid.
The truth was that I didn’t actually even know what I wanted. Maybe some part of me wanted to see if I could find that excitement that I felt whenever I was with Blake, but without all the danger. Maybe I just wanted to see how I would respond sexually in this situation. Or maybe I was now just some kind of horny slut.
I took him upstairs and made us both a drink. I was nervous, which was silly, because I had done way more naughty things over the past summer and even that evening! But I liked him, and that made it different somehow. I sat down next to him very closely on the sofa.
“Look, Mark, I have to be completely honest. Okay?” I said, putting my hand on his leg.
“That sounds ominous,” he replied, though he didn’t move away. In fact, he moved closer.
“No, no... not at all. I mean, I just want to say that I haven’t been divorced all that long, and I’m kind of still… exploring.”
“So no commitments,” he said. For a second, I detected that he was a little disappointed. Maybe I just imagined it.
“No, I mean...” What did I mean exactly? “I mean, I’m open to that, it just... I’m exploring my sexuality.”
Mark smiled as though it were a fantastic thing to hear from a woman who had just invited him up to her place. In his mind, it probably was. I could see the wheels turning in his brain.
To put an end to this pointless conversation that I had started, I hiked my dress up to my knees and knelt down on the floor in front of him.
I very slowly and deliberately undid his belt buckle and trousers. When I tried to pull them down, he mercifully helped me. He had on these tight little undies that made his cock look delicious. I pulled them down, too.
Right in front of me was Mark’s cock. He was uncircumcised and quite big, his cockhead only just peeking out from the foreskin. I had only ever been with one guy that was uncut before. It was a definite turn on, and I wanted it in my mouth.
He was already getting hard as I stroked his cock and balls, so I gently held my lips to the tip, swirling my tongue around it. I could feel it swell.
“Ahhh god, that’s nice,” Mark sighed.
I slowly inched his cock into my mouth, pushing just a little deeper, then drawing back. Finally I got it all the way in and pushed my tongue out the bottom of my mouth to tease his balls.
“Holy shit, Melissa, you could win awards with that style!” he joked. But he was right. I had become quite good at it.
As I sucked him, I reached around and grabbed one ass cheek in each hand, as if to push him deeper in my mouth than he already was. He responded with appreciative sounds, and then pulled me up and kissed me passionately. The taste of his precum lingered on my tongue, and even though I had done some dirty things as of late, I found it to be one of the most sensual things anyone had done to me in some time.
Then he guided me back down to his cock, alternating between kissing me and making me suck him. It wasn’t forceful, but it wasn’t tame, either. I was dripping wet, dying to be fucked. I told him as much between mouthfuls of cock.
“Fuck me, Mark,” I begged. “Any way you want.”
I must have sounded like a slut. He pulled my dress over my head as I recalled that this was the second time that I would be having sex that night, and not with the same guy, either. I not only sounded like a slut; I was one. But I really didn’t want to do this with everyone.
Mark led me into the bedroom as I discarded what little lingerie I had on. I got on the bed on all fours, fully expecting him to plunge his cock into me doggy-style. But he surprised me by doing what Blake often did to me: eating me from behind.
“I need to taste those delicious juices of yours,” he murmured, all the while pushing his tongue into every hole. I reached back with one hand, pulling one ass cheek aside so that he could get in deeper. I suddenly wanted him to make me cum that way. I wanted to know that he was as skillful at giving pleasure as I wanted him to be.
I need not have worried. He took his time, and when I was just about to cum, he knew it. He grabbed both my ass cheeks, spreading me so wide that it felt like pure filth. Then he mounted me, slipping himself inside my wetness with ease
I let him just go for it, putting me in any position that he wanted to. He certainly knew how to give pleasure, and it was nice to know that I could get it from someone that wasn’t just a bad boy.
When I felt his breathing increase and knew he was on the edge, I just said it. I hoped he didn’t think that I was too dirty.
“Do you want to cum on my face?” I asked, whimpering submissively.
His face was priceless, as though someone had just told him that he won the lottery. He didn’t bother to answer. He just pulled out of me and fumbled forward so that he was kneeling above me. I could hear the first blast hit the pillow by the side of my head with a little thwack sound. The rest went all over me.
As soon as he was done, he offered to get me a towel.
“Relax, lay down with me,” I said, using my fingers to scoop up his spunk and put it in my mouth.
“God, you are so dirty,” he said. I took it as a compliment.
We fell asleep together. It felt so natural. Mark just seemed to fit with me. It had been the first time in ages that I had sex that ended like that. It was passionate, dirty, and tender all at the same time. I had longed for this for ages, but now that I had found it, it was complicated by the Blake factor.
I went out with Mark three more times in the week that followed, always nervous that Blake was going to call on me again at some point, or summon me to the clubhouse. Mark and I had a lot in common. We laughed all the time and had what could only be called amazing sex.
But then Blake finally did call, and his news was not what I expected.
“I’m in New York” he said, the phone line crackling over the distance. “Won’t be back for a while.”
“Okay,” I said, a little relieved and a tiny bit disappointed. He was, after all, the one who had set me on this path.
“Just go about your life, and we’ll catch up soon, I promise,” he said like I had planned to do anything but. “Gotta go. I really do miss you.”
And that was it; he was gone. I had spent almost a year of my life being used by him, shared with his friends and wondering when I would see him. As convoluted as it all sounded, I had liked it. I liked Mark an awful lot, but I was not sure that I could ever reach the same level of depravity that I had with Blake. If anyone had asked me just after I split up with my husband if I would enjoy a threesome or let a girl lick my pussy, I would have thought that they had lost the plot. Now here I was missing those same things, wondering if I would ever do them again.
Life carried on through the winter, and Mark and I became much closer. Over time, I began to think of Blake as only a dirty memory. I sometimes wondered if he had just come into my life to open my eyes; to make me see my potential.
During spring break, Mark and I went on holiday to Mexico together, where he proposed to me. It was very sweet and I said yes, though only if he would agree that we could wait a bit before getting married. I had to be sure that the Blake thing was finished.
Mark and I had a fantastic sexual relationship, so different than it had been with my ex. We
explored each other’s limits without fear of feeling dirty or depraved—well, not in a bad way, anyway. He encouraged me, but I sometimes got the feeling that if I were to ask him about having a threesome, he might not be too into the idea. It wasn’t so much that he wouldn’t like to do it, but maybe he would get jealous unless I said our partner should be a girl.
One night during sex, I finally mustered the courage to ask him.
“Would you ever like to fuck another girl with me, Mark?” I said as I rode his cock.
“Are you serious?” he asked me. His eyes widened as he considered the possibility.
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t serious,” I replied, grinding his cock into me. He moaned.
“And would you two...?”
“I would like to try,” I said, interrupting him. He bucked his hips a little. I could tell that the dirty talk was getting to him.
“I had no idea at all that you had any bi tendencies,” he groaned, somewhat surprised but happy.
I still hadn’t told him anything about Blake or the crazy things that I had done before meeting him. I didn’t know if I ever would.
“I have... experimented,” I said at length. It was mostly the truth.
It was agreed, and that night, I got ravaged twice as much as usual. Our shared train of thought only heightened our pleasure, and our orgasms were more intense than they’d ever been. It was pure bliss.
But agreeing to do it was one thing. Actually finding a girl to join us was another.
With Blake, it would have just been a case of telling him what I wanted, and he would have made it happen. For me and Mark, it was a long process that took nearly six weeks before we even found someone suitable.
We looked at swinger sites and the casuals sections online. Most people were either just pretending or online for the kick of it. We finally found a girl online called Amanda who agreed to meet us for coffee before we all committed to it.
We met her mid-week at a café just outside of school. I arrived first and Mark told me that he would be a few minutes late. It was exam time, and there were lots of papers to grade.
When I went into the café, Amanda was sitting at one of the tables, looking all cute and perky. I wondered if it was going to be me that got jealous in this situation. Something about her looked very familiar.
“Amanda?” I asked, approaching the table.
“Hi,” she said and turned to face me. “Oh my god, it’s you. Hi!”
“Sorry, have we met?” I asked, suddenly very nervous.
“You’ve been to the club,” she answered. “I saw you there once. With Blake, I think.”
I was horrified. Not only was my old life coming back to haunt me, but I had invited her in. It took a moment to realize who she was. This was Amy—or that was what I was told her name was, just before she’d put her face between my legs in the club last year.
“Oh my god, Amy—Amanda... whatever. You can’t say anything to my boyfriend, okay? He has no idea.”
“Relax, it’s cool. I’ll pretend like we never met. Have you been back, though? To the club, I mean. You know Blake’s in town now, right?”
I had no idea, and the news hit me like a rollercoaster on amphetamines. I would have fallen off of my chair had Mark not walked in at that very moment. He was excited to meet her. I myself could barely talk. Blake had easily found me before, and I wondered if he had already been looking for me. I spent a lot of nights at Mark’s place, so it wasn’t like he could find me at home. I was glad he didn’t know what school I taught at.
As my anxious reverie faded, I began to catch what was happening in the conversation next to me.
“…and we would love you to come over for a relaxing evening. Wouldn’t we, Mel?” Mark said, smiling broadly at me.
“I understand how it is”, Amanda said, “I respect whatever rules you guys might have. How about this weekend?”
It was agreed, though my consent was limited to just a nod.
Later, Mark asked me if anything was wrong, or if I was having second thoughts. I couldn’t tell him about Blake. Far too much time had passed, and I didn’t want to cause any drama.
By the time the weekend came, I had relaxed a lot. Blake didn’t show up unannounced, nor was he waiting outside of my house. I figured enough time had passed that he had just forgotten about me.
On our big night, Amanda came over at eight. We’d lit candles and bought champagne. We even got a bag of pot, which neither Mark nor I used very often. Mark had, to my surprise, bought a double-ended dildo for Amanda and I to use. It all seemed too well planned, but I went along with it anyway.
We sat and drank champagne for a while, and it was Amanda who finally got it started. She pulled off her top, revealing perfect little breasts with pink, hard nipples. That did the trick. The tone of the evening shifted, and we all eagerly undressed.
Amanda and I started, letting Mark watch. First, she pushed me back on the sofa, and as she had once long ago, gently teased my pussy lips and clit with her tongue. She took me right to the edge several times before finally stopping and telling me that it was her turn.
I laid her down on Mark’s plush carpet and tried to do to her what she had done to me. I would never have expected that I liked the taste and the warm, aromatic scent of a woman so much. But it turned me on to no end, and I made the younger girl cum with my mouth. The sensation that it gave me was amazing.
We finally got into a sixty-nine position with me on top of her. Mark was invited in to fuck me from behind as she licked me. That was sublime, and something that I couldn’t believe I had never tried before. Talk about double the pleasure!
Amanda made me cum more than once. I had to practically swear to Mark that it was okay to fuck her. No, I assured him, I would not be jealous.
But sure enough, as his cock slid into her willing wet hole, I felt a twinge of envy. I beat it down with the fact that this had been my idea. Once I got over that and watched them fuck while sitting back and masturbating, I began to enjoy myself again.
When Mark started to make the very familiar sounds that he was about to cum, I once again felt jealousy rear up inside of me, mostly because he had chosen to cum inside of her and not me. Well, I figured, he could cum in or on me anytime. His time with Amanda was limited.
After Mark had filled Amanda’s tight little pussy with his sperm, the two of us got back into it, finally using the double-ended dildo. We lay on the floor, legs scissored together, pushing the fake cock in and out of each other. We did it for ages, each coming when we wanted to, with no worry that our silicon boyfriend would fail us. I think at that point Mark felt a little jealous, as we were enjoying each other so much.
After what seemed like a couple of hours, we were all spent. Everyone cleaned up and we called a taxi for Amanda. When she went to leave, she hugged me and said:
“Great to see you again. Maybe I’ll see you at the club?”
It was louder than she planned, and I knew that Mark had heard. He didn’t ask, though. He must have thought that “see you again” meant since we’d all met at the café.
As far as I was concerned, the little sex party that I had spurred on had been a success. Mark certainly talked about it a lot and even brought up the idea that we could do it again sometime. I told him that would be fine if this time we did it with a guy. He told me that he would have to think about that. Funny how some guys thought it was okay to do it one way but not the other. Still, we had no friction between us in any way and things were pretty good.
Mark and I were to be married right after school let out. I was pretty sure that was what I wanted, but I still had lingering thoughts about Blake that simply would not go away.
I finally broke down and called him. I spent twenty minutes working up the nerve, only to have it go to voicemail. The fact that I had even kept the phone that he’d given me must have meant something, though.
As June approached, the feeling only grew worse. Mark asked about us doing a threesome again,
but didn’t say specifically that we should find a guy. When I brought it up, he shrugged as if he didn’t want to talk about that part of it. I knew that if I didn’t see Blake one last time and get some closure, I would think about him forever. That simply would not do.
So finally, two weeks before my wedding, I got up the nerve to find Blake. I had no idea if he was still in town or if it was even possible to track him down, but I had to talk to him. I had to at least tell him that I was about to get married.
One Friday evening, I made excuses to Mark that I would be going out with some girlfriends to celebrate the coming wedding; a girl’s night out. He completely bought my story and I felt horrible for lying to him, but this was something that I had to do. I’d already tried calling Blake a dozen times on the phone that he gave me, and all the old phone numbers that I had no longer worked. There was no choice except for me to go to the club.
I went down to the mission district, which was busy with people at that time of night. But I couldn’t really just ask someone where a motorcycle club was. I would have been met with blank stares. It wasn’t really an area that one wants to just wander around in, especially after the sun goes down.
I was just about to give up and forget about the whole thing when I saw a big mural painted on the side of a building. I distinctly remembered it from the one and only time that I had been there. The club was right around the corner.
So there I stood for a good ten minutes, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through me. All around me, the street started to change. It started to get just a little scary.
“Hey, you wanna buy some coke?” said a voice next to me, shaking me out of my daydream. It was a big black guy that looked a little more than menacing.
“No... Thanks,” I said, and scurried off towards the club. I hoped that Blake was there. And if not, I hoped that they would at least let me in to call a taxi. Coming down here alone had been stupid.
Once I got around the front of the building, I knew it was the place. There were lots of bikes parked outside. I knocked on the front door, wondering if one needed some kind of secret code at these places. The door swung open suddenly.