Sex & Sox

My passions: Sex and the Boston Red Sox!

Sunday, March 06, 2005

Tatiana & A Trinity

Have you ever been genuinely giddy? You know, that feeling where you're delighted, relaxed, and yet exhilarated all at once, where the laughter (or giggles!) just won't stop coming?

That was how I felt last night, after they made me orgasm.

I am a notoriously difficult woman to make orgasm. Before my current boyfriend, I had never had someone make me cum; certainly, I had done it to myself, and with someone encouraging me, but giving myself over completely to another person's touch had never culminated in it. Even now, when the better half goes down on me, it usually takes so long that his tongue and jaw get sore and I'll end up asking him to stop and stroking myself to climax.

This was not a problem last night, when Milla and Bruce (points if you know why I chose those psuedonyms) were taking turns lavishing my pussy and clit with attention. For nineteen months, I've felt that I'm a very lucky woman; I know I am now, for this is indeed the couple I've written about before (I also discovered that there's actually an excellent reason why things have taken so long to reach this juncture between the four of us).

I could write about the entire night, but it was the same as most visits we make with them: we chat, listen to music, eat a fantastic dinner, get into the heavy drinking, and flirt. Then, usually, my boyfriend and I leave, with me about as horny as humanly possible. But this time, we didn't. This time, we were all sitting on the couch together, touching, laughing, with Milla stripping off her top and bra to model her leather corset, and me soon following suit to try it on as well.

A corset is a sexy fucking piece of clothing. A leather corset is sexier. Curves are accentuated, and in my case, cleavage suddenly appears. It was seeing her and touching her in that, running my hands along the sides and over her breasts (larger than mine, but not overwhelmingly so) that pushed me over the edge; then, wearing it myself and being admired brought my arousal to a fever pitch.

I honestly don't remember what happened between when I took the corset off and when my boyfriend stood, holding her hand, and started walking towards the guest bedroom. I do know that Bruce and myself followed, and a few minutes later she and I were lying on the bed with my boyfriend sitting on one side of the bed while her husband watched from the other. The lights were off, candles flickering, and the world's sexiest album, Massive Attack's "Mezzanine", for background music.

Her shirt was tugged up and she hadn't put her bra back on (neither had I), and I laid beside her with a goofy grin, propped up on one elbow, trailing my fingers over her taut stomach and silky breasts. I'm amazed at how ... smooth women are, and this manifested itself in one of my childish moments: I squealed, "Is she not just... sooo... pretty?!"

I wasn't long before I brought my mouth to her nipple. This, I liked; feeling it stiffen at the touch of my tongue, feeling how warm and soft the rest of her breast was, cupping the weight of the other in my hand. We kissed, her lips pliant under mine, and I kept my eyes open to look at her -- a strange thing, I know, but what felt right.

Somewhere along the line, we got naked; I was leaning over her when she pushed me back and, smiling, started to make her slow way, with lips and fingers and tongue, down my body.

There is something exquisite about being part of an exhibition for men to admire. As anyone, I have my hang-ups; they faded away under the gaze of her husband and the quick, encouraging smile of my boyfriend. I watched her, trying to keep myself from pressing my pussy to her mouth as she kissed my inner thighs, her dark eyes gazing up at me as she moved closer and closer to it.

Then ... as I laid there wet, hot, aching, amazed, she slid her tongue between my nether lips and over my clit, and it felt heavenly. It's not that what she did was so different from what other people have done; it was the fact that this was a woman 'servicing' me, her slender fingers slipping into my pussy, her pierced tongue flicking at me, those lily-petal lips glistening with the same moist sensuality that we share, her chin and cheeks like satin against my skin. I felt bad that I hadn't shaved clean, as I prefer, and that my hair, short though it is, was rough upon her.

Soon, we had the men involved, her husband caressing her thighs and ass with his mouth while stroking my legs, and my boyfriend alternating between sucking and biting my nipples (I am quite fond of pain-as-pleasure).

"Come here," I begged her between my whimpering and moaning, but I was too quiet to break through how intent she was. "Milla," I tried again, "c'mere, please," and I remember someone chuckling as my boyfriend pulled away, then our lips met and I was licking my juices from her mouth. Her breasts pressed to mine, and I moved to tweak one of her nipples. "Thank you," I whispered, and saw her smile, "it felt surreal." I remember that she looked back at Bruce, and then he was going down on me. His face looked smooth, but after having had a woman there, the difference was unbelievable. The scratchiness of his stubble heightened how soft and experienced his lips and tongue were, and I nearly orgasmed from that alone, but mellowed quickly and enjoyed the sensations of having not-my-man attending to my clit.

I think... think... it was then that I reached for my boyfriend, unfastening his pants and pulling his cock into my mouth, but it could have been earlier; honestly, I've been remembering the entire experience with such fond fogginess all day that the memories blur. Whenever it was, it didn't last long before he moved around to the other side of the bed to be closer to Milla, and as she sucked my nipples, I looked down the length of her body to see him kissing at her body.

One of my hands stroked her, the other caught in Bruce's hair; all I could think, when I managed thought, was how fucking lucky I was, to be there as the focus of three people's erotic attentions. Eventually he pulled away and she replaced him, and as she worked me I thought, "Oh, God, I'm not going to be able to cum, and I want to, and they're going to think I didn't enjoy all this as much as I have," before forcing myself to get a grip and relax -- because if I kept thinking like that, it would become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

As soon as I had pushed those thoughts from my head, my boyfriend pressed his lips to my ear and started growling about how fucking sexy this was, how much he was enjoying watching, and various sundry phrases, and before I knew it, my body was beginning to tremble and my breath coming shorter, and I was begging her not to stop, and he was still whispering to me but sound meant nothing because sensation was everything, and an intense orgasm swept over me, making me shudder and gasp -- but she didn't move away from me. Her lips stayed against my clit, and I started giggling, because she knew exactly how little pressure to apply to keep me feeling pleasure without it being too much -- because, of course, she is a woman, and knows where that line is herself.

For sexual activity, that was it. After I stopped laughing and kissed everyone and thoroughly thanked them (and told her that I owe her big time and look forward to reciprocating), we all settled into chatting, my naked body curled around hers. "You were more vocal than anyone else we've had in our bed," Bruce told me, and as I replied, "Oh! I was trying to be quiet," my boyfriend said, "That... was her being quiet." I'm a talker.

Eventually, it was "bed" time, which I'm certain meant each couple fucking in different rooms -- they in their bedroom, us in their guest room.

I've been wanting what happened last night since my boyfriend told me they were open to the idea, over a year ago. It was well worth the wait.

And I? I am one lucky woman.