by Hazel Parker
And so, I guess we kind of had to face the facts, that if the two of us couldn't fuck routinely any longer, there really wasn't much point in keeping whatever the hell this was alive any longer. We decided, then, to tone this down to a friends with benefits thing. We could screw one another whenever we happened to both be in town, but we were under no obligation whatsoever not to see other people and have sex with whomever we damn well pleased.
But then, of course, Mark had come along, and his love had been largely the opposite of what Justin had offered me. I mean, he was still dynamite in the sack, but he didn't thrill me, really, the way that Justin did, pushing me to the brink and then plowing me over the edge... But that really didn't matter all that much, because, you know, I actually had an emotional connection with Mark, and something deeper to relate to him on than just sex alone.
The only thing I regretted was that, in taking on a “traditional” relationship, I was sealing away that part of my life with Justin for good, making it impossible to engage with him, even on a short term, occasional-roll-in-the-hay basis.
I thought I could deal with that, though, and for the longest time I really more or less did just that. Justin was out of sight, and out of mind, and so I was able, for the most part, to pretend that that aspect of my life was as good as gone and buried, and therefore not worth giving another thought. I was with Mark now, happy and carefree as could be, thrilled to have found someone who felt for me the way that he did, not to mention to have someone I loved just as much in return.
And then the time for my high school reunion rolled around...
It was this juncture that became problematic for me, instantly filling me with nostalgia for the good old days of being smashed by Justin, and not totally sure how exactly I could go about dealing with my fondness for days gone past. It was almost certain that I would end up seeing him again if I ended up attending the thing, and at this point I felt for sure that seeing past one another in a sexual context would be tantamount to impossible.
There was just too much heat still lingering between the two of us, too much passion, and I didn't know if I could handle being in his vicinity for that long without my old feelings popping up all over again, my old lusts and cravings, and my insatiable desires for that sweet sexpot of a man.
And that's when I'd had an idea... A very, very, very naughty idea, one which titillated me nearly as much as it frightened me, and which left me so on edge with desire that I couldn't resist waking up my boyfriend in the most pleasant of ways.
Slowly, I reached over to him in bed, putting my hand on his thigh, and beginning to caress him. My fingers glided across his pelvis, massaging him gently, and pushed up against the bulge in his boxer shorts, the warmth feeling beautiful, and the slight growth and pulsing at my touch turning me on like you wouldn't believe. I stroked him, very slightly, not wanting to tug him abruptly into consciousness.
He began to moan, blinking hard in confusion, looking around stupidly as he gained his bearings, but then a sweet, lustful smile spreading wide a cross his lips.
“Well... Good morning... What a pleasant wakeup call...”
I took this, then, as a signal to proceed. I leaned over in bed, and planted my lips onto his. Neither of us had especially splendid breath at this time of morning, but there was a remarkable sensuality to it all the same as our mouths dissolved into one another. Our tongues melted together with a soft, wet squelching sound, each peck of our lips so delicate and so tantalizing that it drove me wild.
He grunted with satisfaction as the two of us proceeded to ply one another with intense, almost furious kisses, our sexual frivolity lighting up quickly despite the two of us having just woken up- or perhaps due in large part to that very fact.
I put my tongue in his mouth, licking his cheeks, and as I did so I slid my right hand down along his body, slipping it beneath the covers, and creeping into the dank confines of his boxer shorts. I peered into his eyes as my fingers crept down along him, step by step by step, and at last I wrapped my grip around the shaft of his penis, which was hot and slightly sticky, but not quite hard to the extent that I needed it to be just yet.
I could, of course, go about fixing that quite easily, however...
Slowly, I began to play with him as we kissed, loving the extent to which my efforts tormented him, occasionally forcing him to pull away groaning when I pumped too much, and sweat beginning to bead from his body as he struggled to contain himself. In desperation, he reached over for me, and grabbed onto my left tit for support.
Squeezing hard, his claws digging so severely into me that I came close to thinking he would leave a mark. I had to close my eyes at this, sighing contentedly with his lips mere inches away from my own, his hot breath rolling into me, and my hand squeezing tighter, tighter, and tighter around his shaft as the sensations rippled through my anatomy.
Finally, he let go of me, and I opened my eyes, leering into him like a damn animal, with such an extreme lust in my eyes that I thought he would melt into putty on the spot. Then, just to make matters worse for him, I ducked my head beneath the covers, diving into the blackness and creeping down along through the sheets, the warmth and the stickiness of his body getting me so hot for him that I could hardly stand it.
I heard him shudder up above as I applied my lips to the tip of his penis. I worked up a quantity of saliva, and allowed it to trickle through the slight hole in my parted lips. It dribbled along the shaft of his erection, sliding from his tip to his base, and I repeated the action several more times after that.
I began to lick him, running my tongue along his cock and slurping, lapping, rolling up and down, not wholly consuming him just yet, but getting him nice and lubed up, not to mention tormenting him playfully in a manner that I knew must have driven him damn wild.
I seized hold of him once more, then, wrapping my fingers around his erection, and beginning to stroke the skin of his shaft, pulling it up to around his engorged tip, and then peeling it back down to around his base, holding it taut, and allowing the sensations to mount. I savored the soft, sensual squelching as my fingers passed repeatedly through the slicks of my own saliva, his cock getting harder and harder as the moments slipped by, inflating in my grip, the veins protruding further and further, and his manhood becoming like steel beneath my touch as at last it seemed to come to a head.
I opened my jaws wide, then, and slowly brought my face up to him, allowing my lips to melt around his throbbing tip, and to slide down, down, down along every long, engorged inch of his cock. He shivered as at last I pressed down against his pelvis, his tip jabbing lightly against the back of my throat, and I held myself there for a long, agonizing moment, allowing his sweet, sweet punishment to sink in. I knew how much he enjoyed the hot, wet nook of my gullet, and I wrapped my tongue around him in that moment just to drive the point home.
Slowly, then, I began to slide my skull back up along him, working my compressed cheeks up, up, up to his tip, building up suction as I progressed, and then holding steady, allowing the sensations to mount. Then, Lord help the poor bastard, I snapped my lips clean off of him, inundating him with an intense blast of cold air and causing him to tremble with need for me.
Putting him out of his misery, then, I promptly put my mouth back onto him almost the moment it was away, downing his cock once more and sliding it down along my windpipe, gagging myself on the beautiful thing, and twisting my tongue around that glorious shaft of his all the while.
For the next several minutes, I was little more than a bobbing bulge in the covers as my skull heaved in and out, in and out, in and out against his body, taking his dick like a champ, and as though it was the most delectable thing I had consumed in ages. Admittedly, it had been Justin who had once helped to refine my excellent deep-throating skills, and given the context of my present actions, it was just a bit difficult not to have thoughts of him as I sucked and slurped and gouged myself on my boyfriend's fat cock.
Finally, at the point that I thou
ght he was about to spill over up into me I slid my lips off of him, giving him a few final strokes with my wrist, and then proceeding to clamber my way back up from beneath the bedspread.
As I emerged into the light once more, Mark was sighing contentedly, yet looking somehow disappointed all the same. “Ohhhh, God that was nice. Why'd you stop?” he asked, his chest heaving, and his skin now soaked with sweat on behalf of the beautiful things I'd done to him down there.
I didn't answer him verbally, but instead just grinned like a devil at him, reaching my hands once more beneath the covers, and wriggling my body with the motion of my arms. Then, a moment later, I came up with my lacy black panties dangling between my fingers, his eyes wide at the sight of them as I tossed them over the edge of the bed.
“Oh... Got it...” he said, the need for explanation vanished given that those skimpy little things had been the only thing preventing me from complete nakedness up to that point in time.
I rolled over onto him, loving the heat of his thighs against my own as I straddled to him, and I began to grind up against his pelvis, dry-humping him, and the sliding of my pussy against his washboard abs feeling absolutely tremendous. Slowly, I slid him up into me, piercing my flesh with the sharp, devastating blade of his erection, savoring the manner in which he peeled me apart, and at last came touching down, down, down inside the deepest depths of my hot, wet cunt.
I moaned, and he began to thrust up into me from beneath, churning up my pussy by rolling his ass back and forth against the bed, the creaking of the mattress springs like some sweet, perverse music in my ears. The sounds from my throat began to peel out in sheer torrents, as much for my own benefit as his, as I savored the hot grinding of his cock through my cunt.
The friction agonizing as he pushed and pumped and melted up into my vag, each long, liquid stroke more devastating than the last, and the union of our hot, throbbing loins perhaps the most desirable start to the morning that I could possibly fathom.
And soon, before I knew it, he was filling me up inside, his cock throbbing up against me, and the hot, molten gel of his sperm launching up into me, pulse after pulse after pulse of the stuff, setting me over the edge. My body tightened around him as I rang with orgasm, the cheeks of my ass clenching as I struggled to contain myself, and at last, when I thought I could take no more, I collapsed on top of him.
The two of us were a sweaty, heaving, glorious mess as we lay there in our exhaustion, stars snapping in my brain and the moments passing by with beautiful slowness, my ears ringing in the silence, and the opportunity for making my request seeming as though it was becoming a more and more pressing thing to take advantage of.
At last, things seemed to grow interminable, and I bit the bullet, knowing that things would only get harder and harder the longer I waited. I spoke in barely a whisper in his ear, anticipating him rejecting me outright on the spot, yet hoping against hope that I would be wrong in my prediction.
“I want to have a three-way with you and my old high school boyfriend.”
I said it flatly, in a matter of fact tone, and he looked up at me, astonished, not saying a word for a long, long moment.
And then, his penis still inserted in my body, I felt him harden just the least bit inside me...
2
Suffice it to say, this was a tough sell. A very, very tough sell.
At first, I think poor Mark was kind of stunned about me even asking it, like maybe he'd misheard me wildly or as though he was just hallucinating all of this. But when he asked me to repeat myself, and my words were the same, I think it did sink into him that what he'd thought I was asking was indeed very much what I was asking.
I had to hurry, then, and explain that my reason for asking this had nothing, absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with him or any lack of desire I might have had for him, and that this was something that long predated the two of ours relationship. I told him, right then and there, that he could tell me to shut the hell up about it forever and I would, I would shut up like a clam and never again breathe a word about it.
But no, he insisted, sounding as though he was in a daze, he was listening, and I therefore proceeded to tell him exactly what it was I had in mind. I told him about Justin, our past together, and how he'd stolen me right out from under him (almost literally, if you catch my not so subtle drift.)
Although it might have been a terrible idea, I told him about the kinky sex life I'd indulged while sleeping with Justin, and how it was unlike anything I'd experienced before or since. I told him about my inner vixen, the side of me that craved exploring the taboo, the forbidden when it came to all things sexual, and how I so often burned to indulge that side of myself despite my frequently unassuming nature.
I emphasized that I'd all but forgotten about my time with Justin until the announcements for the reunions came in the mail, and that since then I'd been trying to put my ex-lover out of my mind, to no avail.
All of these things, mind you, were things that might have imploded a relationship with a lover less in tune with me and my needs than Mark, that beautiful bastard, who seemed to listen patiently to every absurd, obscene word I spoke to him. We must have laid in bed for hours discussing all of this, the hour verging on noon and the light becoming overblown by the time we at last reached a resolution to all of this. And at last, after so long of him lying beside me in silence while I prattled along dumbly, he spoke.
He agreed, sure, why the hell not, we could give it a shot, but he couldn't guarantee that he would be participating all that much personally, or that he would end up being especially comfortable throughout the course of the proceedings. I said that was more than alright, and if Justin was indeed interested in getting involved, then he (Mark, I mean) was more than free to put a halt to things if at any point it became too much for him to take.
And so, before either of us knew it, the night of the reunion rolled around, and it was time to see just how well our plan would carry water. As we drove to the high school, I was, unsurprisingly, very nervous, but poor Mark sat beside me like a slab of concrete, completely stiff and unmoving, seeming so bewildered by all of this that I wasn't sure he would be capable of performing sexually even if things did progress in that direction.
Once we arrived, it didn't take all that long for me to spot Justin, who was there alone surprisingly, and was several heads taller and wider than most of the people surrounding him. I could tell that Mark was stiffening just a bit at the sight of my football behemoth of an ex-lover, and I walked over to him alone, thinking that our introductions were best made at a distance, given what had happened between the two of us, not to mention what I was attempting in this most delicate of scenarios.
We talked for some time, catching up and asking one another about the dull, boring details of our lives, not really paying much heed to one another's answers, I don't think, but doing our damnedest to avoid confronting directly the elephant in the room. Finally, an uncomfortable silence fell between the two of us, a space that we couldn't seem to fill with anything else, and I decided, right there on the spot, to take the plunge.
I leaned in, whispering into Justin's ear, and I could tell, even as the soft words passed from between my lips, that the idea was starting to arouse him to no small degree. Once I'd explained the situation and my idea to him in full, he looked up, peering across the room at Mark, as though studying him, trying to decide whether this was a man he could fuck a woman with.
He got a good eyeful of him, and then breathed deeply, sighing, and said, much like Mark had, sure. Why the hell not? It wasn't something he'd ever really done before, but he couldn't say he hated the idea all that much. This was, of course, as much a reason for further anxiety as it was a relief, and I was torn between the split impulses to be glad and frightened at it as I took my ex-boyfriend by the hand across the room, in order to introduce him to my present boyfriend.
This was either the most ingenious idea I had ever had, or else it was absolute batshit insane...
When at last the three of us could no longer stand it, we decided to leave the reunion early, saying our goodbyes, and heading back to the hotel where Justin was staying while in town for the reunion.
And there the three of us were. In his room. Sitting on his bed. I was looking back and forth from one man to the other. Justin was looking cautiously over at Mark on the other side of me, and Mark was avoiding eye contact with everyone altogether, staring at his lap- where, I couldn't help but notice, a most uncomfortable erection seemed to be bulging up through the fabric of his pants.
