That I shouldn’t have recounted this event can only be disputed after it’s been revealed. I open up to tell you simply because I feel it will weigh more if left alone in my consciousness. I am not asking that judgment be passed, rather to listen, and share it with me even if you disapprove. I’ll try to be brief, yet disclose those details that I just can’t maintain hidden. Being a woman of morality, you should understand how this can affect me.
It was late in the evening, at high sundown in the company of two good friends that because of their gender preference had never been intimate with a female. Te topic of conversation for the last few hours had been about their experiences with the same gender. I mostly listened, seldom asking questions, intrigued about interactions new to me.
They spoke of the same issues facing me, the same issues I pondered about from time to time: love, promiscuity, group play, the ability to foretell what would and wouldn’t work afforded by sharing the same gender. I was most interested in why they weren’t attracted to the opposite sex, in our case, females, as I found them to be far more attractive than men, even when I didn’t care to share intimacy with women. Even then, at that very moment! Why were they not enticed to even look at me with lust given that I wore white boy-shorts, a mid-drift shirt exposing the bottom part of my bust?
They weren’t interested in me, not my shape contouring to the shorts smiling back at them, not the view of my bust that escaped the small shirt from time to time, nor the display of all I could offer when leaning over the counter. It all could be almost seen, why did they not care? I wonder why they didn’t. I questioned how certain they were of not enjoying being with a woman, if they had never done so. The answer was simple. You, a female, needn’t be with another woman to know you are intimately attracted to men. You inherently know that you enjoy coitus with men. That’s the same for us.
I probed, questioned, teased, even insulted, yet they didn’t care to be with a woman until I began to wonder how it would feel for me to experience one of them. That seemed to get their attention, it’s not that I believe to be the cutest woman this side of the harem, nor that I would change them, but it became sort of my challenge to conquer their inability. I thought if there would be someone to sacrifice to show them what was being missed, it had to be me.
We daydreamed about what it would be like, if it would destroy our friendship, would it destroy my long term relationship? So many scenarios, positions, even toys were tossed out in the open. We even wonder if they even knew how to go about pleasing a female, that it sure wasn’t just all about stroke, push and shove. Whether it would be rough and filled with lust, or tentative filled with inexperience. I quickly expressed that it might be an awkward situation when the attraction necessary to be intimate wasn’t present on their part, that we might as well stop dreaming. I had caught their attention, However. They were very curious about the idea of being with me. Not just because I think of myself as sensual, but, as they said, because I often hide my desires behind morale; they believed me to be naughtier than I lead on. They were somewhat right. I am fresh in my thoughts, but actions, I never take those very far, simple the thoughts are to conceive, but even speaking of them is arduous most of the time.
I was the first to to be vivid. I pulled my shirt off, remaining in the white boy-shorts and socks, gray athletic socks. They looked at me and laughed. Telling me that at their age, and though lack of inexperience with the opposite gender, they had seen more than their share of shirtless women. They asked me to show them more, to pull on the top of the white boy-shorts at the front, at the location of the brand. I did as request. I pulled up forming a “W” against the white shorts. It looks plumply, was the first comment, followed by statement that if I had been a male, I would have been well endowed. I was asked to pull down on my crotch to release the shape of the “W” form the white shorts. I was playful with it. I reached somewhat far back under it, ran the finger tightly through the inner seam, then grasped it at the front, erasing the contour revealed against the shorts.
I was made do quite a few things, but they got quite a rise out of watching me walk away from them. They said it looked like a male’s butt, except feminine, quite supple, very bouncy and enticing for rear entry. They really couldn’t get the full feel with the shorts on, so I removed them, staying only in the socks. I leaned over, pushed my legs apart somewhat wider than shoulder width, and told them that there stands what real prefer as a meal. I was freshly shaved, all and every detail they had never seen, clearly visible to their virgin eyes. Not only did they comment, but asked if they could feel me, if it really was as “plush” as it looked. I claimed unfairness, that if touching was the request, they must in return do something for me. Nothing big, just to see what they hid from view, and kept from women.
It didn’t take more than two minutes for them to actually remove each others pants, and underwear, touching one another erect. They turned towards me, and having complied with my request, I was going to allow them to feel me. To trace their hands over my body, over my warmth, over my butt-cheeks and in between. Their touch was exploratory at first, intriguing was followed by seductive, to then naughty. And by naughty I mean they traced the contour of my female figure with their male counterparts. I was wet, and excited despite the continuous yapping by the two about the difference of the genders.
I got on my knees and asked them to approach me, they rejected the advance. Of all the times I’ve done this, I have never been rejected. They expressed that if something was going to happen, it wasn’t going to the same thing that they can likely perform better than I. It was amusing to be told by a male that my performance wouldn’t have been worthy. Instead they laid me face up on the floor, knees bent, bottom of the feet flat on the ground. One went first, he ran the tip quickly through the saturated area, then asked the second to come taste, and feel the wet warmth. They didn’t do a very good job, I made sure to notify them of the deception. They really didn’t know what they were doing, and the best feeling really came when one kissed my navel and the other ran his lips through my inner thighs.
Seconds later the front door opens, lo-and-behold my boyfriend is home.
I saw her there, with two men, well, not men but half men pleasuring her. The men froze, she tried to stand up, but I expressed that there was a need to. The fact is that I did not know how to react. I wanted to be upset, but knowing the two fellows to be, well, not very masculine, sort of got me excited about what was going on. Perhaps, I had my own fantasy of being with a male… whatever it was, all that came to me was to teach my partner a lesson. To push her to limits she’d never been, limits even I had never been. Limits that I might at some point or another preferred there to be more women than men, but here was the situation. There I stood, the male, them two male-want-to-be today, and her. Let me tell you about her, she is a sight, not because she is my partner, but because she is all woman, sensual, built with fine tools. The type of woman that there isn’t a duplicate because two molds that well crafted just can’t be made.
Ok, so I don’t really like looking at males, but these two fellows had nice bodies. Not too big, not to small, just the right amount of muscle where I could see the attraction to their bodies. They approached me, and I allowed them to get as far as undressing me, and touching me aroused, but when they expressed to become more serious, my girlfriend quickly rejected the idea expressing that they weren’t there for more of the same, but a first. I got the idea, and actually thanked her for the quick action to move the attention away from me. I would have certainly spoiled the party, send them home, and continued solo on my girlfriend.
They came to me, my boyfriend simply stared while they fondled me, while they kissed, sucked my bust, my butt, and vulva. I was a went mess not because they were good, but because my boyfriend stood stroking himself while watching me half pleased. Where my friends made up for the lack of pleasure between my legs, they made up with thrust. They got me to stand on both my knees, and hands. One slid under me, and the other behind me. The one behind me began to suck on my ass, wetting me, from time to time sliding his fingers through my saturated area to slide the up towards the butt, wetting further. He seemed to be a quick learner, the one at the bottom sucked on my bust, kissed me. The first attempt to take me from behind was with his index finger, little did he/they know that I had grown accustomed to penetration in that area as my boyfriend was well enthusiastic of such undertaking. I sighed while struggling to tell him not to be a woman, to show me the male in him.
He had experience I tell you, he slid it in with little effort, pushing me down onto of my friend at the bottom. I kissed him, or he kissed me, I don’t recall, but I do recall how it feels to be taken by two men simultaneously. The pleasure is intense, not just intense but it sends the body in a revolution for bliss. It goes into fight mode, and it gives as hard as it takes. Yet, being just one against two, I quickly tired, still I fought, sweating, looking to the side to see that my boyfriend had come close to me, his member glistening from the iconic engorging. He was as hard as I had ever seen anyone be. Veins visible form the distance, standing erect to his belly button, his hands ran up and down. Softly upwards and aggressively down. My senses were overwhelmed, I was not only being asked to handle the thrusting against my butt-cheeks, but against my pelvis, and now I was watching my man draw closer to me. The sweat running from my body was only comparable by the moisture being released from within me, the pleasure aiding the slide in and out of me. I can’t even remember when they switched places, but I was stood up, sandwiched between two perspiring bodies. They were naughty in speech, naughtier than I recall anyone being. It drove me practically insane to hear them call me names, tell me what they were going to do next.
Just when I got louder, my boyfriend interrupts us.
Get on the floor again you three. This act is not going to leave me watching. They laid her down on the floor, each occupying different places in her body, and me, well. There was but one place remaining where I could have joined. I grasped her face, kissed her while they shoved her in all different directions, she sighed, she panted, she moaned, she cried. Just as I saw that she was to climax, I stopped her by inserting my member in her mouth, deep in, touching her throat and telling her that she must first do me, before they do her. Her sweaty hair felt irresistible in my hands, watching sweat drip onto me, watching her weakened mouth stay stationary while I insert and withdraw with little care for her wellbeing. I know her, I do know her! I could see it both in her eyes, and the reaction of her body. She was about to climax, so she did, but I didn’t let her enjoy it as much as she would have liked, I continued thrusting into her face… I listened to her struggle with me, she made all the sounds of someone looking to breathe freely. Both guys were looking at her enduring my actions, they called her names, asked her if she had learned a lesson. If she was ready to stop or simply understand that it was just the beginning.
My mouth was saturated, both in saliva and traces of my boyfriend left behind. At this point I was really not doing anything except feeling my body spasm. My boyfriend was kissing me, asking the fellows to stop for a second, to lay me down on the floor face down, legs pushed apart just to watch me panting. As panting I was.
See, it didn’t finish there, and now wonder if I should have really related the story. I am not even sure at this very moment if I am a woman of solid morale. Now, now, now at least I don’t have t carry this burden hidden in me. You may now carry it with me, they say that loads are easier carried by many.