Sex and the Stranger

by Justine Elyot

  ‘No, I can’t say I have,’ I started to say, but she was already chatting on.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about that a lot just lately. I think it’s something to do with the aging process.’

  I eyed her curiously. ‘It’s not just because you can’t keep your legs shut, then?’

  ‘Seriously. Think about it, when you’re young, everything’s a brand new experience. But as you get older, haven’t you noticed how your options just start drying up? You and Dave, for example. You’ve been together however long, a year or whatever, and I bet half the things you were doing when you first met have been completely forgotten about.’

  ‘OK, you do have a point, there.’

  ‘Right. And why is that? Because you know one another so well you’ve just settled into a routine. There’s no time for play any more, no room for experiment. You just get in, get out and get on with your lives. Pete and I were exactly the same.’

  ‘But that’s not why you broke up.’

  ‘I didn’t say it was. What I am saying is, I’ve been thinking about how exciting sex was when we were younger and how I miss that thrill of discovery now that we’re no longer young. Which got me thinking about things that I’ve never done and that got me thinking about threesomes.’

  I smiled. ‘Well, you got there in the end. You should go for it.’

  ‘I’m going to. I was just wondering, who should we pick for our partner? It can’t be anyone we know or who we’re likely to see.’

  I interrupted her. ‘Hey, what’s all this “we” business? When you said a threesome, I thought you meant you and two guys. Or, at least, some other couple.’

  ‘God, no. What happens if I hate it? At least if you’re there …’

  ‘I can take over?’

  ‘No, I was thinking more along the lines of, you wouldn’t be insulted if I don’t want to …’ Again her voice trailed off and, for the first time in this entire conversation, it dawned on me that she was actually being serious about this. The question I now had to answer was, was I?

  It’s funny, but one of the first things out of any guy’s mouth, once he’s got you into bed, is ‘Have you ever done it with another girl?’ Beat him to it, ask him if he’s ever done it with another guy, and he’ll probably flip (unless, of course, he has), and start demanding to know if he comes across as gay. But not only are girls meant to take the question seriously, the big hope is, they’ll answer yes. Well, sorry to disappoint you, fellas, but the closest I ever came was in high school, when I had a crush on a girl in my hockey team. Then it turned out that she felt the same way about me, and the romantic possibilities of the entire situation suddenly crumbled, never to be revisited again.

  But, if I had to get it on with another girl (and, from the way Lisa was carrying on, it rather sounded like I might) she, Lisa, would probably be my first choice. At least we’ve known each other long enough that, if it should go wrong, there’d be no hard feelings. And if it goes right, then our friendship unfolds in a whole new dimension. It’s a win-win situation and, if I keep on telling myself that, I might even come to believe it.

  ‘OK, so how are we going to do this?’ Lisa was asking. ‘We don’t want to go anyplace we know people or where word might get around – we do have our reputations to keep up, after all.’

  I shot her a sidelong glance: as if she’d ever cared about that fragile commodity.

  ‘Hey, I know, how about a weekend at the shore?’

  I thought for a moment. ‘That would work. Dave’s working Sunday, and I think he’s got some baseball game on Saturday, so we weren’t planning on seeing each other. It’d work for me.’

  ‘Me too. Look, I need to be getting back to work, but I’ll check some hotels on the web when I get home, see what I can book us in to, then I’ll give you a bell this evening and let you know what I’ve found. OK?’

  ‘Great.’

  She leaned forward and pecked the end of my nose. ‘Cheer up, girlfriend, I might be all your Christmases rolled into one.’

  ‘Yes.’ I gave a mock pout. ‘And you know how much I love Christmas.’

  Back home that evening, I carried on wondering precisely what I’d gotten myself into, but had to admit I was curious as to where it might end up. Sitting on the bed, but still clothed, I began moving my hands across my belly, first imagining it was another woman’s touch, then that it was another’s flesh I was feeling beneath my T-shirt. I allowed a hand to stray up to my breast, squeezing and stroking it over my bra, homing in on the nipple and teasing it. At least I’ll know where everything is, I thought to myself. It won’t be like some guys’ early attempts to hit the right spot on their partner. I let my other hand drift beneath my skirt and lightly stroke the gusset of my panties.

  I was faintly surprised to feel it moistening and tried to concentrate my finger in my mind on her pussy. I felt my lips yielding slightly and increased the pressure of the single probing finger. Her finger, my pussy. I felt a light jangle in my clitoris, but ignored it for the moment, sweeping the tips of my fingers across my inner thighs, while massaging my breast even harder. I wondered if Lisa had already been through this routine herself, while she was making up her mind to ask me, and the thought excited me even more. My finger slid inside my panties and I pushed it deep, then began to bend and unbend it, massaging that magical patch that we’re told is called the G-spot, but which I always think of as my private Eldorado, a place for which many men have searched in vain, but which I can locate with my eyes closed. OK, Lisa, you’re on, I thought, then the phone rang and I snapped out of my passion-trance.

  ‘Hotel Turquoise, Saturday. Check in at two, out at noon. How does that sound?’

  ‘I’ll see you there.’ I hung up the phone, and sat without moving. Oh God, it’s going to happen. It’s really going to happen, I thought. Eldorado was forgotten. I was really going to do this.

  * * *

  And so it was, two days later, Lisa and I were sitting on the beach, planning our next move. And I’ll say this for Lisa: she doesn’t waste time. We’d only been on the sands half an hour and already she had three guys, in three different directions, eyeing us – or rather her.

  ‘So, what do you think?’ she asked, admiring her handiwork.

  ‘OK, him.’ I nodded towards the bronzed Adonis seated to our left. ‘He’s right out. He’s way too proud of his bulges and lumps and he probably thinks sex is just another way of doing push-ups. The barely-out-of-his-teens looking kid with the radio blaring Van Halen has a friend with him and I am definitely not going there. Which leaves the one sitting with his face half-buried in a book and sneaking sweetly shy glances in our direction. So now what do we do?’

  ‘Easy.’ Lisa jumped up and crossed the few yards of sand to our target. I watched his eyes growing larger as she headed towards him, five foot six of well-proportioned blonde, with boobs to die for almost spilling out of her bikini top. She knelt on the sand and I watched them exchange a few words. Then she came back. Behind her, the guy was already gathering up his book, towel and backpack.

  ‘I told him that Mr Muscles over there kept staring and was freaking us out and asked him if he could walk us to the boardwalk and, if we were attacked, he could run and get a cop.’ The strange thing was, Mr Muscles was staring, or maybe it wasn’t so strange, given that we’d obviously made our choice, and he wasn’t it. I’d hate to be his gym equipment this evening.

  By the time we got back to our hotel, everything was set up. Well, not absolutely everything, but at the least the groundwork had been prepared. Mark – an unmarried engineer in town for some kind of gaming convention – would meet us in the lobby that evening, for drinks and dinner and then on to a club. All the way up to our floor in the elevator, Lisa was hopping from one foot to the other, delightedly chanting, ‘We’ve caught a nerd, we’ve caught a nerd.’ Then, as though the thought had just occurred to her, she said, ‘How ironic. He comes to town for a weekend of fantasy; that’s what this gaming thing’s all about, is
n’t it? Dungeons and Dragons and stuff? OK, he comes for one fantasy and he’s about to fall into another one entirely. Oh sister, we are going to blow his tiny mind.’

  ‘You’re not planning to be mean to him, I hope?’ I knew what Lisa could be like when she got into one of these moods, but she swore she’d be on her best behaviour.

  ‘Not only that, but when we’re finished with him, he can even stay and watch us.’

  ‘Oh, I can hardly wait.’ I hoped I didn’t sound too sarcastic.

  Mark, the nerd, arrived on time, bought our first drinks and would have happily paid for dinner if I hadn’t grabbed the check before he picked it up and told Lisa that she and I were splitting it between us. Of course Mark protested. I mollified him by letting him leave the tip, then Lisa kept me talking long enough that he paid for the three of us to get into the club. I really hoped she would keep her promise about behaving. I don’t know what engineers earn as a rule but this was shaping up to be an expensive night out.

  It was also beginning to look like a washout. Mark was nice enough but he had nothing to say beyond ‘Oh, let me pay for that.’ And trying to talk to him about anything at all, even Dungeons and Dragons, drew no more words from his mouth than the minimum required. I did learn that he wasn’t into D&D and thought it was kids’ stuff compared to some of the new games out there, but that was the extent of my conversation with him. Lisa was having even worse luck and, when she asked him if he wanted to dance, it was obvious that what she really wanted was someone to whisk her around the floor, so she could check out the rest of the talent in the room.

  I sat back, watched for a while, then drifted to the bathroom. When I returned, the two of them were locked together in a kiss that had them rooted to the centre of the club as though the entire place was their own domain.

  ‘Wow, what was that all about?’ I asked Lisa when she finally returned to the table. ‘And where’s Luke Skywalker gone?’

  ‘Hopefully to adjust himself.’ She smiled. ‘Listen, you might not believe this, but he has the most enormous chopper I’ve ever seen.’

  ‘You’ve seen it?’ I asked incredulously.

  ‘OK, felt. We were dancing, right, and I could feel this … I guess you’d call it a mass … against my leg. So I was thinking he had something in his pocket, a bunch of old Kleenex maybe. And then it moved. I felt it move. And not just a little shift, this went from my hip down to halfway to my knee. And I thought, hello. I kissed him and it moved again. And, by the time I let him go, this thing was practically halfway up my stomach and as hard and hot as a witch’s tit.’

  I laughed, both at the expression and her curious simile. ‘You sure you still want to share him?’

  ‘That’s the deal,’ Lisa shot back. But, as we walked back to the hotel, Mark and Lisa arm in arm, and me trailing along a little behind them, I did begin to wonder. So, I think, did Mark, when we got up to our room and he noticed that both of us seemed to have a key. I saw his eyes flicker from Lisa to me and back again, and I tried to gauge his mood. Either he was asking, do I get you both? Or he was pleading, get her out of here.

  My unbiased opinion? I think it was the first one. But Lisa had her own ideas.

  ‘It’s OK, Chrissie was going to take a long bath. Weren’t you, Chrissie?’

  The haste with which I answered yes suggested to me that I was glad of the fact that, no matter how excited either Lisa or I got over the thought of making love together, the reality was just a few steps too far. I closed the bathroom door, turned on the water and started undressing, then realised I’d left my book in the bedroom. I didn’t know how long I was going to be exiled to the smallest room (till one of them needed to use it, I expect), but I wasn’t going to spend the time staring at the walls.

  In my bra and panties, I opened the door. I’d been out of the room maybe sixty seconds and at the very worst, I expected them to be sitting on the bed together, still locked in their pre-flight kisses. Instead, by the glow of a scarf-shrouded bedside lamp, I saw Mark flat on his back, his eyes tightly closed, and Lisa wrestling – yes, wrestling – to get her mouth around, indeed, the biggest cock I’d ever seen.

  OK, I’ve been to the chat rooms, I’ve played the game, and when Longjohn14incher informs you that he’s not called that for nothing, it’s so easy to turn all demure and little girly and type back ooh I don’t know how I’ll ever fit my little mouth around that, but I’ll certainly give it a try. And then you poke your pinkie between your lips and type a lascivious mmmmm.

  It’s not until you actually see fourteen inches, or as near to that as makes no difference, and watch someone trying to accommodate them, that you realise just how absurd that kind of boasting is. That is not a penis. It’s a lamppost and, with the best will in the world, would you really want one of them stuck inside you?

  At the same time, though, it was fascinating to watch. Once, and only once, I let Dave set up the digital camera, and photograph me while I gave him head; and, though I deleted the pictures immediately afterwards, there was something beautiful about them, both the sight of his penis as it sank into my mouth, and the look of undiluted pleasure that danced on my face as I did so.

  I saw that same kind of bliss in Lisa’s face, but I also saw frustration, her eyes screwed up tight as her jaw strained around a purple mushroom the size of a fist. Her lips were drooling saliva all over it, desperately trying to get up the lubrication that would finally allow him to slip in all the way, but still the thick ridge at the bottom of the head was mashed against her lips, refusing to budge any further. It was almost painful to see and incredibly exciting. It wasn’t until I felt my own wetness wash over my fingers that I realised that I’d even started diddling myself while I watched. The damp reminded me of my running bath, and I stepped back into the bathroom and turned off the taps. Then I resumed my position in the doorway, gently fingering myself as Lisa battled gamely on.

  Neither of them heard me walk softly across the room or noticed as I knelt down behind Lisa, my eyes now glued to the huge shaft with which she was fighting. Two hands held it, and the veins that stood out were as thick as her fingers. I manoeuvred myself around a little to study her lips as they sucked ferociously on what little of his manhood they had actually managed to seize upon, then I placed my hands on Lisa’s shoulders, gently massaging them as she worked.

  I felt her relax into my touch, the bobbing motion of her head slowing a little as I allowed my hands to slip over her shoulders, then back onto her shoulder blades. Mark groaned his appreciation of the change in pace, but remained motionless. Sensing that all Lisa needed was a little extra encouragement, I bent my head to kiss the nape of her neck, as my hand slid under her arm to clasp her breast and thrilled to feel her nipple digging hard into my palm.

  I cupped her breast and squeezed, then allowed my fingers to roam to the corona, gently tracing patterns in the skin before lightly tapping the swollen bud. I found myself wishing Lisa had settled herself in a less constricted position; I yearned to fasten my lips around her nipple, to feel my tongue teasing its taut surface. Instead, withdrawing my hand for a moment, I slid my fingers into my pussy, then replaced them, slick and moist on her breast, and sensed from the tiny moan that escaped from deep within her throat that she knew precisely what I had done and was given fresh determination by it. With a sudden jerk, I watched astonished as her mouth finally closed over that leviathan tip, and began inching greedily down the shaft.

  She would not get far; no girl could. But the extra purchase allowed her to remove one of her hands and, with a delighted shudder I had never anticipated, she clasped my hand that still massaged her breast and guided it slowly down towards her loins.

  My fingers traced lines down her abdomen and belly, danced in the thick mat of her sticky pubic hair, then slid through a wetness that seemed to last forever. I curled my middle finger and sank it inside her, into an all-enveloping wetness that was as heart-stoppingly alien as it was deliciously familiar. Whenever I touched myself li
ke this, the sensations were shared between my finger and vagina. Now it was my finger, fingers, as two more slipped in, that gloried in the hot wet softness, and I slipped towards her clitoris, rubbing and flicking it as her hips began swaying.

  I could feel her orgasm building, her pussy muscles tightening, her juices flowing more fully; I could watch, as well, as the one hand that held Mark’s penis became a blur of frantic motion. But it was jerking not towards bringing him to climax, but to the one which was now building closer and closer within her own frantic body.

  For a moment I thought she was going to break the thing. She was trying too hard. I moved away, watching as his cock hung in mid-air, a rigid bar that you could tow tractors with, then wrapped my hands around it as well, trying to slow Lisa’s motions. It wasn’t in the script, I knew, but drastic situations call for drastic responses.

  I sucked a ball into my mouth – at least they were a reasonable size – then let my tongue drift towards his asshole, flicking the soft skin before tracing back across his scrotum to the base of his cock.

  Suddenly, Lisa’s head jerked back with an almost animal cry of ecstasy; at the same moment, precisely as his cock flew free of her mouth, an enormous fountain of come shot out of it, arcing over his body to splash down close to his shoulder. Sinking to her knees, her head on his leg, Lisa continued pumping him dry with one hand, producing pools that became great puddles of cream, spreading over his stomach and then trickling down his sides. But her eyes remained locked on my face, and her mouth – her poor, aching mouth – creased in a smile and a softly whispered thank you.

  I smiled back, then placed my finger on my lips, pointed towards Mark, and crept back into the bathroom. As I closed the door and stood brushing my teeth and contemplating the now cold tub, I heard the bed creak as Mark sat up, and presumably opened his eyes at last. ‘That was fantastic,’ he said. ‘But I really need to get going. I’ve got a game that starts at eight.’ There was a thump as he swung his legs onto the floor, a swish and a zip as he pulled his trousers up, then a ‘Bye. Er, thanks’ as he walked out of the door.