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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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It was a peculiar dilemma. I wanted so badly to see and move, but all I could do was sit and wait. My hands were bound behind me around the back of a wooden dining chair. The restraints were smooth and sheer: a feminine scarf made to keep hair, not wrists, in place. A thicker black scarf looped around my head and served as a blindfold.
Though my eyes were covered, I could peek out if I tilted my head back. Only the warm glow of burning candles highlighted shadows in the room. Bubblegum pop played softly to my right, mostly forgotten at this stage of the night. My captors towered over me, two silhouettes moving as one.
Sitting there, heart pounding and helpless, I wondered, not for the first time, how the hell I had gotten myself into this situation.
—
The night had begun, like most Saturday nights, with drinking. More specifically, it began with good food and cheap wine. You might call Megan a foodie. Exotic and complex dishes were the norm around her place.
We had only been dating for a few months and I had already been treated to what seemed like a tour of the culinary world. Sage-Brined Pork Chops? Check. Penne à la Vodka? Check. Prosciutto and Arugula Pizza? Check. Tonight’s main dish of Coq au Vin would turn out to be a particular treat. Consisting of chicken stewed in red wine with porcini mushrooms, red onions, and pancetta, Coq au Vin is a meal worth fawning over. Which is exactly how I found Megan when I arrived at her apartment.
She was standing next to the stove adding some final touches to the meal. As usual, she looked amazing. Under her cooking apron, she wore a light, charcoal sweater and a pair of snug blue jeans that hugged her figure just right. Like a vixen straight off the pages of a 1950s pin-up magazine, Megan was curvy in the way a real woman should be, with full, large breasts, a narrow waist, and an ass that demanded notice. As I approached her from behind, my mind wandered, remembering the feel of her smooth legs wrapped around my body.
“Hey, you,” she said as I wrapped my arms around her and gave her a peck on the nape of her neck. “Dinner should be ready soon.” I caught a hint of her perfume: something fruity with just the right amount of spice. She turned around in my arms and I leaned down to kiss her. She stood a full head shorter than me, which suited me just fine. Forget the tall models; I always preferred short girls. They just felt more natural wrapped in your arms. As she pulled away, I had a clear view of her hazel eyes. They, like her lips, were always smiling.
“What?” she asked, chuckling at me as I stared down at her beautiful face.
“Admiring the girl of my dreams.”
“Oh, is that all? I guess that makes sense. I am pretty awesome, after all.”
I playfully kissed her again, running my fingers through her long, wavy auburn hair. “And modest.”
“Modesty is one of my best qualities. Along with my big boobs. And my ass, can’t forget about that. And—”
“And too bad you don’t have a sense of humor.”
“Yeah, too bad. Then I would be the perfect girl,” she said, breaking our embrace in order to return to her pot of fragrant stew. Taking a peek over her shoulder, I could see she had prepared a massive amount of food. “Are you expecting to feed an army?”
“I’ll blame that one on genes. My family always fixes way too much food. Besides, there is no easy way to make a small amount of this. With all this extra food, I invited Bridget to join us this evening.” She glanced back at me. “I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.” And honestly, I didn’t. Bridget and I got along well. Megan’s next door neighbor had a crude sense of humor that more often than not led to funny and exciting conversations about very inappropriate things.
At first blush, Bridget and Megan were an odd pairing. Bridget liked to live life on the wild side. She was passionate about music, and in college, her band had apparently been a big deal on campus. She enjoyed the night scene and thought nothing of partying until dawn. To hear her tell it, her rock and roll ways led to some pretty risqué times in college. She has always been purposely vague about the details, but from what I’ve gather, her idea of fun pushed beyond the normal college curiosities.
Most of that seemed to be behind her now. Currently “between bands,” she made a living as a private music tutor. I envied the puberty-age boys she taught. At that age, I rarely encountered someone in real life who automatically jumped to the top of the spank-bank list. Along with her killer voice, Bridget had the lean body of a runner and flowing, mid-back blond hair that belonged in a Pantene commercial. The way she dressed only added to her allure. Obsessed with the music and style of the ’60s, Bridget almost always wore short dresses and high platform boots of the era. Between the two, her legs seemed to go on forever.
Being a musician, she was naturally loud and boisterous and loved to be the center of attention. This contrasted starkly with Megan. At a crowded party, Megan was always the quiet one who stuck close to a small group of friends. Though stunningly attractive, she didn’t draw attention to herself with skintight clothes and a ton of makeup. Her style might be best described as nerd chic. Bold retro glasses adorned her face and bangs covered her forehead. She normally pulled her hair back into a ponytail or tied it up into a bun. At night and on weekends, her wardrobe consisted of tank tops, loose sweaters, and either jeans or a casual skirt. The look was driven by the workday requirement that she wear the informal uniform of her profession: the pantsuit.
Megan was a first-year associate at a pretty big law firm downtown. She got there by being the best and putting in the time associated with being the best. During college, Megan, like Bridget, often stared the sunrise full in the face with sleep-deprived eyes. Only for Megan, the nights had been spent memorizing case law.
That’s not to say that Megan never let her hair down. For Megan, working hard went hand in hand with playing hard. Only, when Megan let loose, it was in the bedroom. From light bondage to role-playing, the bedroom was Megan’s playground. After particularly frustrating days at the office, Megan would invite me over, not for a gentle word or a shoulder to cry on, but for a good, hard fuck instead. She would meet me at the door, pull me into her bedroom, throw me on the bed, climb on top, and ride me until she had her fill. Not that I minded being used. I gave as willingly and as often as she wanted. I always got mine and then some.
A few weeks ago, near our six-month anniversary, she had called one weekday night and told me she had a surprise waiting at her place. The only catch was that I had to wear my suit in order to get this mysterious treat. When I arrived, the door was unlocked and a sign on the counter told me to head to the bedroom. As I entered, Megan shoved me down into a waiting chair. I was informed that my role for the evening would be that of a hostile witness to Megan’s opposing counsel. She wore the most titillating version of her lawyerly uniform. A tight, much-too-short-for-the-office skirt replaced her normal trousers. The white blouse was everyday work attire, but three too many buttons were undone, revealing the center clasp of a lacy black bra. To finish the look, a pair of black thigh-high stockings was held in place by a garter belt that trailed back under her skirt.
By the end of that evening’s proceedings, I gladly accepted the punishment Megan’s court handed out. We were so loud I had to wonder, with only a thin wall separating us, if Bridget could hear our moans. And, if she could, what did she think about that? Afterward, it occurred to me that maybe that was part of the fun for Megan. Maybe she enjoyed knowing that someone might be listening.
And therein lied the point of Megan and Bridget’s friendship. Megan enjoyed Bridget’s torrid stories of all-night party escapades. And Bridget saw Megan as a steady, grounding force against all the fly-by-night party people in her life. Of course, it helped that they were both transplants who arrived in the city, and their apartment complex, at about the same time. After meeting on the landing outside their doors, Megan invited Bridget over for a home-cooked meal and the rest, as they say, was history.
While Megan finished dinner, I set out three bowls and sets of silverware. The table was normally placed against the wall to save space, but tonight I pulled it back into the middle of the room to better accommodate the three of us. The cozy apartment lacked a true dining room, so part of the living room had taken over that duty. This worked out well as we usually watched the nearby TV while eating. Unlike our normal side dish of Netflix, tonight’s entertainment called for a little more class. Frank Sinatra crooned about love and luck from a set of cheap speakers placed strategically as bookends on a shelf over the TV. From the kitchen, Megan softly sang along.
The living room, like the rest of the apartment, was a mishmash of IKEA, Goodwill, and hand-me-downs. Still, the overall effect was quite charming. It always amazed me how girls could pull together a bunch of seemingly unrelated junk and make it into a home. A lamp here, a basket there, some candles to finish, and voila: the perfect style for twentysomethings stuck between college life and real adulthood.
Before Bridget arrived and our dinner commenced, I excused myself to the bathroom. After finishing my business, I gave myself a good once-over in the mirror. I was dressed casually in a white Oxford shirt, untucked and sleeves rolled up to mid-forearm, and a pair of dark bootcut jeans. My golden-brown hair was disheveled in a way that took way too much time to accomplish, and stubble spotted my jawline for that rugged look that was in these days. Overall, I looked pretty good.
My time at college had made me soft around the middle, but two years back at the family business had hardened my body in a way that only manual labor could achieve. Unlike the two ladies, I was born and raised in the city. My family owned a custom furniture business that catered to the elite. I wouldn’t say my family was wealthy, but we lived a comfortable life.
From a young age, I knew that I would one day take over the business. I took great pride in the knowledge that I would continue my father’s legacy. My time in college had been spent in search of new ideas and techniques for making better furniture. They actually offer degrees in furniture design, if you can believe that. And I would like to think that time was well spent. Since my return, our business has seen a steady increase in demand. Though I spend too much of the day in meetings and at design boards, I’ve always made time for my true love: actually crafting the furniture. Every piece we sell is handmade and I get my hands dirty as often as possible. If I was lucky, these nimble fingers would come in handy later tonight.
As I finished up in the guest bathroom, someone knocked lightly on the apartment door.
“That’ll be Bridget,” Megan said from the kitchen.
“I’ll get it.” A cold blast of winter air greeted me as I opened the door.
“Hey, sexy,” Bridget said, giving Megan a small hug and kiss on the cheek. She wore a sapphire-blue wrap dress and a pair of knee-high leather boots. A box of wine perched precariously in the crook of her arm. “Something smells delicious.”
“That would be the Coq au Vin,” Megan said in her best, albeit not very good, French accent.
“A woman after my own heart. Thomas, I may just have to steal your girlfriend away. We can move to Europe and start a small restaurant together. Megan will cook; I’ll provide the entertainment. At night, we will make sweet, but passionate love. We’ll live scandalously and be the talk of the town. What do you say, Megan?”
“Sounds like heaven to me,” Megan replied, shooting a grin in my direction. “We might have to keep him around, though. He can be our waiter and busboy. And occasionally he can join us in the sack. Sometimes, you just need to get fucked by a man.”
“So true,” Bridget said, nodding her head in agreement. “Well, Thomas, do you agree to work long hours for minimum wage on the promise of joining in some hot lesbian action?”
A no-brainer. “Of course,” I said.
“It’s settled, then. Now all we need to do is raise the money for our adventure.”
“In the meantime,” Megan said, “dinner is almost ready. It should be done about the same time you finish pouring us a glass of that wine.”
“Straight from the bottom shelf to you, my dear.” She placed the box of wine on the counter and retrieved two glasses from the cabinet. Wine, whether top shelf or bottom, did nothing for me, so I grabbed a tumbler, some ice, a Coke, and a bottle of Jack I had stashed above the fridge. With drinks prepared, we converged on the feast waiting for us at the dining table.
Like good adults, we dutifully consumed our salads first, all the while eyeing the main course. With the rabbit food out of the way, we were finally able to dig into our culinary treat. The stew, as expected, was superb. Megan had really outdone herself.
While we ate, the conversation veered from topic to topic, becoming more jovial as the food and alcohol warmed our bodies. Bridget shared a story of a student who thought she was destined, despite no real discernible talent, to be the next great pop diva. We concluded that, by and large, kids were little assholes. Following the same theme, Megan unleashed an expletive-filled rant about the firm’s newest, and biggest, client. He apparently thought 3 percent was too high a tax rate for his company to pay. Unfortunately, these types of clients would be the norm for Megan in her budding career. Corporate law had its advantages—very little time in the actual courtroom and lots (and lots) of money—but the downside included long hours working for clients who were used to getting everything they wanted. We concluded that clients were, with no exceptions, big assholes.
As the meal drew to a close and we scraped the bottom of our bowls clean, the night’s plans came into focus. On a normal Saturday night with Bridget, we would end up in some hole-in-the-wall bar listening to an up-and-coming band, but that was not an option tonight. What had begun as a light snowfall had turned into a curtain of white, so the idea of leaving our toasty hideaway was never really even considered. Instead, we decided on a night of board games. Up first: Sorry!
Alliances were made and quickly broken. Cheerfully vulgar names were called. Groans were issued at bad luck of the draw. After an hour, Megan was the clear winner, handily beating Bridget’s and my win totals combined. Years of strategy building in the study and practice of law had the incidental consequence of making Megan a master board game player.
“I feel used and abused,” Bridget said, shooting Megan a pretend evil look. “I always thought that if you had your way with me, I would feel better afterward.”
“Trust me, if I really had my way with you, you would be flying high right about now,” Megan replied, giving Bridget her best sultry look in return.
“And exhausted,” I chipped in.
“Promises, promises,” Bridget said.
“Well, since you guys can’t take me at Sorry!, I think it’s time for a different game,” Megan said, shaking her glass, “and another drink.” By that point, the girls were three drinks in while I was just about to finish my second Jack and Coke. We were loopy with alcohol and the fun that can only be had with good friends. The night seemed perfect.
“I’ve got the perfect game!” Bridget squealed, hopping up from her chair. “It’s back at my place. Megan, will you grab some scarves while I go get it? And Thomas, will you make me a Jack and Coke, too?”
“Scarves?” Megan asked. “Does this game also involve whips and a safe word?”
“Ha! You wish,” Bridget said, already heading out the door. “Maybe if you get me really d*unk.” I went to the kitchen to fix a new round of drinks. As I poured out a measure of Jack, Megan slipped her hands around my waist from behind. I thought she was going to hug me, but instead her hands kept moving downward, sliding over the front of my pants and fondling my hardening dick through the fabric of my jeans.
“This next game better not last too long,” she purred into my ear. “You see, I have a problem.”
“Maybe I can help,” I said, trying not to groan. “What kind of problem do you have?”
“Well, I am so very horny tonight,” she said, now nibbling on my ear. “And there is only one thing that can satisfy me. I need a big, hard dick inside me.” My pants bulged as she continued to stroke me. “But before I let that dick inside, I need someone to get me nice and wet. I need someone to take extra-special care of my pussy tonight. Do you think you can handle that?”
“Yes,” I said, finally letting the moan out.
“Good. Because if you don’t, I might have to let Bridget do it instead. Would you like that? Would you like to watch Bridget get me all wet?”
“More than anything,” I said. This was not the first time she had teased me about her being with another girl. When she was tipsy, and in the right mood, she would work the idea of a threesome into our foreplay. Afterward, the sex was always phenomenal. This thought nearly put me over the edge. I spun around to face Megan, eager to kiss her, to pull her against me. Instead, she pulled away, placing a finger over my lips.
“Not yet,” she said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “Bridget will be back any second now. Besides, it’s time for a pee break before our next game. Now fix me that drink like a good boy.” With that, she smacked me on the ass and left me to my bartending.
Bridget burst through the door a few minutes later.
“Fuck, it is freezing out there!” she screamed, the door slamming behind her. I looked over in surprise at the noise and immediately noticed she had slightly changed her clothes. Her boots and leggings were gone, replaced by bedroom slippers and bare legs. As my eyes traveled up, I could clearly see she had also removed her bra. If her chest was any indication, it was indeed very cold outside.
“Yeah, it gets a little cold out when you start taking off your clothes.”
“True, but it’s very warm in here and I wanted to be comfortable.”
“Oh,” Megan said from her bedroom door. “Is it comfy time?”
Bridget smiled over at me. “See, she gets it.”
Megan retreated back into her bedroom to change. Ever the exhibitionist, she left the door open behind her. Carrying our drinks to the living room, I just glimpsed a pair of small shorts slip over her perfect ass. For a man, there is something inherently sexy about watching a woman change clothes.
“Aren’t you going to change, too?” Bridget asked as she began rearranging some of the dining room chairs.
“I would, but I didn’t t bring any extra clothes with me.” The plan had been, and still was, to end the evening wrapped in nothing but a sheet and beautiful, naked woman.
“What are you wearing under there: boxers and a T-shirt? That should cover up enough.” I thought this over as Bridget took her drink from my hand, her fingers lightly grazing mine in the process. I am not normally shy about my body, but my boxers lacked a button-up front and the thought of gapage kept running through my head.
“Do it, big boy,” Megan said, surprising me from behind with another smack on the ass. “Don’t be bashful.” I turned to see Megan was down to her tank top and pair of short shorts. The apartment was warm from the cooking and heater, but still cool enough that I could see the outline of Megan’s hard nipples through her tank top. Apparently, I was not the only one to notice.
“I hope this doesn’t sound weird, but your breasts are amazing,” Bridget said, blatantly staring at my girlfriend’s chest.
“Yeah, I am pretty proud,” Megan said, poking her chest out more. “Whenever I’m having a fat day, I always remind myself, ‘Hey, at least you’ve still got big tits going for you.'”
“Can I borrow some? You have more than enough and I’ve hardly got any.”
“Nope,” she replied, covering her chest with her hands. “All mine. Although, I guess I could trade some for some of your legs. That’s the problem with being a short girl: we always envy the tall.” As their conversation of switching body parts continued, I quickly undressed in Megan’s room, paying special care to tuck everything away downstairs. When I returned, Bridget was breaking open a small martini shaker that contained a stack of cards. A label on the shaker read “Party Drinking Games.”
“The game we are going to play is called Headbands,” Bridget said. “Or in our case, we can call it ‘Scarves.'” She held up three of the scarves Megan had gathered. “It’s simple enough. Everyone ties a scarf around their forehead. Then one person sits in the chair—” she waved her hand at the chair she had positioned near the center of the room. “That person chooses one of these cards at random, without looking at the front of it, and places the it in their headband where the others can read it. For the next thirty seconds, the two standing players act out whatever is on the card while the seated player tries to guess what it says. Normally, whichever side loses has to take a shot, but since I don’t feel like a hangover tomorrow, we’ll limit that to a big chug of whatever you’re drinking. Everybody got it?”
“I think so,” Megan replied. “Let’s just give it a go and see where that gets us.”
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.
And so the game began.
I was up first. I sat in the chair, wrapped the scarf around my head, and placed the drawn card against my forehead. Fifteen seconds later, I had correctly guessed “Nod a Lot” as my card. The girls took their drinks and I relinquished the chair to Bridget. And on the game went with fun, if mild, cards like “Compliment Me” and “Confuse Me” making an appearance. Our drinks diminished and were refilled. At some point, the music changed from Rat Pack to pop as the game slowly veered into more adult areas. I was lucky enough to pull the “Flirt with Me” card. I knew almost immediately what the card said, but I let it play out the full thirty seconds anyway. Having two beautiful women come on to you was worth savoring. I’m pretty sure Megan did the same when she pulled “Worship Me.” She particularly seemed to enjoy it when Bridget got down on her knees in front of her, placed her hands on Megan’s bare legs, and said, “Take me, master. Have your way with me.” I’m not going to lie: I thoroughly enjoyed it, too.
On the next draw from the deck, Bridget pulled the night-altering card: “Talk Dirty to Me.” It’s funny how things — evenings, relationships, lives — can change by the smallest bit of chance. Would the night have turned out differently if the card had never been pulled? Perhaps. All I can say for sure is I am very glad that it was.
Phrases raced through my head as I tried to decide where to start. Before I could open my mouth to speak, Megan leaned in close and began to whisper into Bridget’s ear. I couldn’t make out what Megan was saying, but Bridget obviously enjoyed it. She smiled at first, and then giggled, her cheeks turning pink. Then her eyes widened and her smile gradually faded, replaced by a mischievous and, possibly, eager look. While she whispered, Megan began to caress Bridget’s cheek, her fingers slowly tracing down the side of her neck. As the thirty seconds ended, she practically purred, “Talk dirty to me…”
As Megan pulled away, Bridget turned her head slightly to look her in the eyes. Megan leaned back in and pressed her lips to Bridget’s. The kiss was gentle in the way that only two women can share a kiss. What took a few seconds seemed to me to go on forever. Something stirred downstairs, my lack of pants instantly forgotten. Megan leaned back to end the kiss. For a moment, Bridget’s lips pushed forward, unwilling to break the embrace.
When it was over, when the moment had passed, Megan turned to me. “Your turn.”
I sat back in the chair, my mind racing with what had just happened. Instead of handing me the deck to choose a card, Megan stepped closer and placed a card under my scarf. “I picked this card especially for you,” she said. Then, turning to Bridget, “What do you think?”
“I love it. So, how do you want to play this?”
“Well, I thought we might make use of these,” Megan said, pulling her own scarf from around her head and walking back behind my chair. To my surprise, she seized my hands and yanked them behind my back, swiftly wrapping her scarf around my wrists. While Megan worked, Bridget leaned in close from the front, mimicking Megan from their encounter.
“Don’t worry,” she said, pulling my scarf down around my eyes. “This won’t hurt… much.” For a moment, I could still see Bridget through the thin fabric, but that abruptly ended when Megan turned out the overhead lights, leaving only the decorative candles to light the room. One game was over; another one was just beginning.
Although I couldn’t see, I could hear the girls moving together in front of me. They were whispering again and I could barely hear them over the latest pop song from Katy Perry. Did the whispers mean they were also caressing again? Megan giggled faintly, but the sound became muffled halfway through. Muffled by other lips? I wanted so badly to see and move, but all I could do was sit and wait. I twisted my head to different angles, trying for a glimpse of what was happening. Tilting my head back, I could just peek out.
My captors towered over me, standing in the center of the room. From what little I could see, the two girls were pressed against each other, swaying to the music. “I love dancing with your girlfriend,” Bridget said, teasing me. I could barely make out her ass sliding against Megan.
As I sat confined to the chair, the line between perverse torture and playful teasing blurred. In the shadowy room, it was difficult to make out exact details. The feeling of helplessness was maddening. “So, I’m guessing my card said “Torture,” I ventured, hoping to get some clarity on what would happen next.
“Oh, sweetie, we are so past that game now,” Megan replied before sharing a secret giggle with Bridget. “I like it when you kiss me like that.” So there it was. Megan was coming through on her innuendo, but I was unable to see it for myself. I tilted my head back further just in time to glimpse Bridget’s face pull away from Megan’s neck. Megan’s hand slipped down to cup Bridget’s perky breast as she kissed her shoulder.
“Oh,” Bridget moaned. Whether the passion was real or just to tease me, I couldn’t tell. Either way, it had done the job. I could feel myself getting harder by the second. Peeping out, I saw Bridget’s hand resting on Megan’s hips as they began to grind, rubbing their thighs between the other’s legs. Megan dropped her hips against Bridget’s leg, sliding up and down as if on a stripper pole. Her cleavage, no longer restrained by a bra, threatened to escape from her tank top. Bridget seemed to enjoy the show. I lowered my head as she shot a quick glance in my direction. I couldn’t handle losing what little view I had and didn’t want the devilish girl to tighten the blindfold.
“Oops. Megan, it looks like your tank top straps have fallen down,” Bridget said, pausing for a tantalizing effect. “Let me help you with that.” My head shot up to get a peek. Ever so slowly, Bridget inched the straps down Megan’s arms, uncovering more of her breasts. The fabric briefly caught on her nipples before slipping all the way off, freeing her tits.
“There. That’s better,” Bridget said. Her small hands circled as much of Megan’s bountiful bosom as possible, still leaving plenty of flesh uncovered. Megan’s breasts were a sight to behold, large enough to satisfy any “breast man,” yet still perky with youth. The pink circles of her nipples only briefly interrupted the mountains of smooth, pale skin. Bridget bent her head to Megan’s chest, kissing each nipple in turn.
“Mmm. I’ve never had another woman kiss me like that before.” I let out a groan of my own as my eyes strained to clearly see the details I was missing.
“You know we’re doing everything we say, right?” Bridget asked. I did know, but I couldn’t get a good view. I wanted to see. I had to see. Shaking my head side to side, the blindfold fell little by little down my face. My entire view was momentarily lost, but it was worth it. With the scarf around my neck, I was free to soak up all the delectable details I had been forbidden to see. The girls seductively swayed, their faces touching, staring into each other’s eyes. Bridget’s hand delicately massaged Megan’s right breast. Megan wrapped her arm around Bridget’s neck and pulled their faces together. Their lips opened, gentle tongues sliding into each other’s mouth.
I was now rock hard, my boxers straining to contain my cock. Knowing Megan loved having her tits played with made the moment even better. Her fingers caressed Bridget’s flat stomach, snaking their way up to cover her breasts. Megan kneaded each fabric-covered mound in turn, her thumbs rolling over each nipple. “I think it’s time for this to come off,” she said.
I could just see her hands slide up and under Bridget’s dress, exposing more and more snowy skin, blue material gathering on her wrists as they traveled upward. My breath caught in my chest as the dress slipped past Bridget’s ass, revealing a pair of cheeky panties. The lilac floral lace stretched tight, accentuating every titillating curve. A moment later, the dress lay crumpled on the floor at my feet.
“You really do have an amazing body,” Megan said. I could hear what I thought were the sounds of lips on skin. A quiet moan confirmed my suspicions a moment later. Megan’s hands entered my view, sliding in reverse of their previous path. Deliberately, her fingers traveled down Bridget’s belly, inching closer to the front of her panties. At the last moment, just as they reached the top of the lilac fabric, her hands slid to the sides and around Bridget’s back before continuing down to cover her ass. Her fingers dug into flesh and lace, pulling Bridget into a closer embrace.
Bathed in the flickering candlelight, the two beautiful women explored each other’s bodies, discovering new sensations along the way. The small mounds of Bridget’s creamy white flesh peaked in plump, pink nipples. Rounded and protruding, the sensitive skin stiffened as Megan’s hands lightly stroked down Bridget’s chest. Her nipples briefly disappeared under Megan’s palms before reemerging between her fingers in a tender pinch.
Megan grasped the back of Bridget’s head and ran her fingers through the long, silky blonde hair. They pulled closer, their lips pressing harder in a more passionate kiss. As the kiss ended, they both looked in my direction.
“Ah, that’s not fair,” Bridget said at the sight of the blindfold around my neck.
“I would disagree,” I said, smiling at their faux indignation.
Megan stepped over and slipped the blindfold back over my eyes. “Naughty boy,” she whispered into my ear. I turned to kiss her, but she pulled away. “What makes you think you deserve that?”
“I’ve got the one thing that can satisfy you, remember?” I replied.
“That might be true. But the anticipation is half the fun.”
“And the other half?” I asked. A pause followed and I thought I would not receive an answer. Then, from close by, Bridget whispered, “Fulfillment.”
The next few moments were almost sensory overload as the girls kissed, caressed, and stroked my body. Because of the blindfold, I could not tell which touch came from which girl. The back of a hand traced the outline of my jaw, followed by a soft breath on the side of my neck. Fingers tugged at my hair, yanking my head back. Light lips touched the other side of my face, kissing ever closer to my lips. A hand skimmed my bare thigh, sliding over my boxers, fingertips grazing my dick. A brief kiss finally reached my lips, only to disappear into the darkness. Teeth bit gently into my earlobe. Each new touch enhanced the pleasure. I released a low groan. Bridget was right; the anticipation was fantastic. Caught up in the moment, I didn’t realize that one of my captors had disappeared. Only after a small moan escaped in front of me did it dawn on me where the missing set of hands had wandered off to.
Soft flesh pressed against me, drifting down my face until the nipple reached my mouth. I opened my lips, taking in Megan’s wanton flesh. While I kissed her chest, she deftly untied the knot of my blindfold. She pulled herself and the torture device away, revealing a scene straight from my wildest fantasies. Megan stood before me, a silky black thong her only remaining clothing. Bridget’s arms were wrapped around Megan’s breasts from behind. As she kissed Megan’s neck, one hand trailed down her stomach, its destination clear. There would be no turning back this time.
As Bridget’s fingers slid over the sleek fabric, Megan’s body tensed, inhaling deeply. At first the fingers teased, pulling off at the top of Megan’s mound, never sliding between her legs. Only after it was clear that Megan was on the edge, that she could not take any more, did Bridget relent. Her fingers slipped down, caressing Megan’s lips through her panties. Each stroke pushed deeper, only the thin material separating fingers from skin.
“Please,” Megan whimpered. “Please…” Bridget obeyed, slipping her fingers under the fabric and into Megan. Faster and faster her fingers rubbed, focusing her attention on Megan’s clit. Seconds later, it was over. Megan’s body shuttered, her knees almost giving in as the orgasm overwhelmed her. Bridget held her close, her hand never missing a beat. When she was finished, Megan turned and lustfully kissed Bridget, intertwining their bodies.
“I think it’s time we moved to the bedroom,” Bridget said when their kiss ended. “And maybe we should untie him.”
“So you want to bring him along for the ride, then?” Megan asked as she untied my restraints.
“He has his uses,” Bridget replied. Giving me a taste of what was to come, she reached down to caress my cheek, paying special care to let the fingers she used on Megan trail over my lips. “So long as he promises to be a good boy.”
Their bodies melted together on the bed, flesh pressing as they kissed. I disrobed before lying behind Megan, pushing my dick against her smooth ass. My hand skated along her side and down to her thigh while I kissed her neck and she kissed Bridget’s lips. When my hand met Bridget’s on Megan’s ass, I trailed my fingers up her arm. Their kiss ended and Megan turned to me, her soothing lips finding mine. Lightly, her tongue slipped into my mouth while I ran my fingers through her hair. The kiss turned from loving to passionate, her tongue thrusting more firmly against mine. My fingers gripped her hair tightly, pulling to give her the little bit of pain she has always loved with her pleasure.
Turning back to face the girl sharing our bed, Megan bypassed Bridget’s mouth and instead trailed her tongue over her neck. Bridget’s smile was warm and inviting, her eyes searching for approval. I accepted the unspoken invitation with a light kiss that soon turned hard: pent-up desire released in a single meeting of lips. I let my hand fall to her left breast, lingering on her tight nipple. Their hands cascaded down the other’s body, inching closer to their goals. Megan broke first, letting her hand dip down between Bridget’s thighs to rub against her damp panties. Bridget moaned as Megan increased the pace and pressure. She dropped her own hand down and plied the tips of her fingers against the sheer cloth. Barely audible, Megan whimpered.
Bridget laid back as Megan began to work her mouth down Bridget’s body, stopping briefly to pay special attention to her tits while her fingers traced the line where silky fabric and freshly shaven skin met. At first her lips met Bridget’s nipple tenderly. After a moment, she became more eager, snaking out her tongue to lap at the expectant skin. She plundered each breast separately, taking her time to fully familiarize herself with the way Bridget’s body reacted. She was completely at Megan’s mercy. Her hips rocked against Megan, begging for more. Megan granted the silent request, slipping the panties to the side and piercing Bridget’s glossy lips with her middle finger. Running it up the length of Bridget’s pussy, Megan easily found the swollen clit. Bridget broke away her kiss, her body shuddering with pleasure. Her own finger slinked under Megan’s thong until she reached the rounded pink flesh she was searching for. I could feel Megan tremble in ecstasy. Trading kisses and moans, they explored the other with rapt attention, each reacting to the new, yet familiar touches. Satisfied Bridget had been sufficiently teased, Megan finally peeled away the sheer panties to reveal the completely smooth and wet cleft.
I moved closer to Bridget and looped my arm under her neck and around her shoulders. We kissed again as Megan parted her folds with her tongue. Her body tightened in pleasure; a contented sigh escaped into my mouth. Glancing down, I could see Megan’s face buried in Bridget’s pussy. Her breathing was fast, excited. An assured hand grabbed my dick, tugging up and down. I felt like I was going to explode, but I held back, taking control. What I had originally thought was Megan’s hand was actually Bridget’s. Megan’s hand was between Bridget’s legs, her fingers exploring inside Bridget’s pussy as she continued to work her tongue over Bridget’s clit.
“Does that feel good?” I whispered into Bridget’s ear.
“Yes,” she barely breathed. As she moved her hips against Megan’s face and fingers, her body began to quiver. I squeezed her left breast, massaging her stiff nipple between my fingers. While stroking my cock with one hand, Bridget used her other hand to force Megan harder against her.
“Do you like having your pussy eaten by a girl?” I whispered. She just moaned in reply. “Do you like Megan eating your pussy?”
“Yes,” she whispered. The scene was blissfully perfect. Bridget was getting close, which made it all the harder for me to keep from cumming. The idea that Megan was about to make a girl cum made me want to explode all over both of them.
“Are you going to cum for her?” She didn’t have to answer. Her body tensed, her grip tightening on my dick as she let out a long, soft moan. I could feel her nipple harden like a rock before softening as her body relaxed.
“Did you cum?” a surprised Megan asked as Bridget pulled her face up for a kiss.
“Yeah,” she said smiling, a little embarrassed. Bridget had to taste her own cum on Megan’s mouth as their lips met. Each girl seemed to enjoy the new tastes and feelings as the kiss lingered. Without another word, they swapped positions. Megan lay next to me with Bridget hovering over her, their breasts meeting again as they kissed. Bridget lowered her head, briefly pecking Megan’s neck and shoulder before continuing to her chest. Both nipples were waiting for Bridget’s touch. When her moist lips met the firm flesh, Megan let out a familiar moan of gratification. Her considerable tits were extremely sensitive, especially to the flick of a tongue. Bridget’s mouth took in a rosy nipple and began to suck.
Not wanting to leave anybody out, Megan reached out and stroked my cock. Bridget switched her attention to the right breast, nibbling the tip of the plump flesh. Seeing the opportunity, I pressed the end of my tongue to Megan’s other nipple. A small gasp of surprise escaped her lips. Megan placed her hand on the top of Bridget’s head and pushed her down between her legs. She didn’t have to be told twice. Eagerly, she tore away the fabric that separated her from her destination. Her lips touched the top of the smooth skin, teasing Megan. I could see how aroused Megan was, her lips fully spread to reveal her pink center. Bridget’s tongue lashed Megan’s wet pussy and a scream of passion leaped from her. Trying to intensify her feeling of ecstasy, I grabbed her breast and gingerly pinched the engorged flesh. She responded by squeezing my dick harder, vigorously pumping up and down. Again I had to fight to keep from cumming. Our kiss was rough, each of us giving into the moment.
“Do you like having your pussy eaten?”
“Uh-ha,” she let out between gasps of delight. Bridget must have been very good. Megan seemed totally at her mercy. Her body trembled as she pressed her pussy harder against Bridget’s face.
“Are you a naughty girl? Are you a naughty girl who likes to be eaten by another girl?” I demanded.
“Yes!” she screamed, grabbing Bridget by the hair and thrusting her hips faster. In the brief moments between her gasps and moans, I could hear the creamy sound of Bridget’s tongue thrashing over Megan’s clit.
“Are you cumming?”
“Yes!” she panted. “Yes!” Her body arched, shuttering with the release.
“I came,” Megan said as Bridget crawled back up for another kiss, her lips and chin wet with Megan’s cum. We all lay there for a few moments, our bodies intertwined as we swapped kisses. They had both cum, but I could tell they were not nearly done.
“I think somebody has been left out,” Bridget said, looking over at me.
“I think you’re right,” Megan said. “What do you think he would like?”
“That’s a tough one. You know, I’ve always heard guys fantasize about being blown by two girls.”
“I guess he might deserve a little treat,” Megan said. She set up from between Bridget and me and crossed over my body so that I lay in the middle of the two girls. On their hands and knees, they crawled down to face my crotch. Megan firmly gripped the base of my cock and ran her tongue up its left side. “Mmm,” I mumbled.
While Megan teased my head, Bridget licked the other side of my dick. The girls both repeated the motion, two tongues gliding up my shaft before meeting on my head where they kissed. My dick was suddenly inside a warm, sucking mouth. I let out a loud groan. God, it felt so fucking good! I looked down to see Megan bobbing on my dick. She let it slide out of her mouth with a wet pop. As soon as it was free, Bridget pounced, roughly plunging her mouth over the smooth shaft, clamping down with her lips.
My moans were constant as the girls ravenously tag teamed my cock. Megan reclaimed my cock, almost taking it entirely into her mouth. I closed my eyes and focused on the feeling of two girls devouring my dick when I felt a pleasant surprise. While Megan vigorously worked on my cock, Bridget licked my shaved balls. The sensation was incredible. Megan pulled her mouth off my dick and stroked it with her hand, using the wetness left from the blowjob as lube. Following Bridget’s lead, Megan lapped at my balls as Bridget reclaimed my cock. I felt the pressure begin to build. I was about to cum in Bridget’s mouth. She must have sensed I was getting close. She pulled away. “Not yet.”
I grabbed the girls and pulled them up to my face. Their lips were red and swollen from their work. Megan kissed me and I could feel the difference. I could also taste both Bridget and myself on her. She was so fucking sexy. Bridget kissed up my neck to my lips, shooting her tongue deep into my mouth. They were both ready. “I think Bridget wants you again,” I said, looking over at Megan.
“Yeah, I do,” Bridget said before their lips locked. This time there was no hesitation; Megan knew what she wanted. Revealing her still moist pussy, Bridget spread her legs apart as Megan lowered her face for the first taste. Her tongue slid between the folds, lapping up the tangy juices. Bridget cried out as Megan pressed harder, fucking her with her tongue.
Positioning myself behind Megan, I was able to get a better view of the action. Bridget’s hands tugged at Megan’s hair while she pushed her hips up to meet Megan’s face. Though I couldn’t see Megan’s hand, I could hear the unmistakable slick sound of her fingers invading Bridget’s pussy as she brushed Bridget’s clit with her tongue. Her tits bounced with every thrust of hips and fingers. With her face buried between Bridget’s legs, Megan’s ass pointed up in the air, allowing perfect access to her soaked pussy. Megan’s moan was muffled as I slid my fingers over her slippery lips. Foregoing the usual teasing, I plunged two fingers into her tight hole while I worked her clit over with my thumb. Both girls’ moans intensified, as each was getting close.
“Oh god,” Bridget moaned. “Fuck!” Judging by Bridget’s rock-hard nipples and the pace that she rocked against Megan’s face, she was about to cum. Jerking her head back and thrusting her pussy up, Bridget moaned frantically. With a scream and shutter, she was through.
Momentarily satisfied, the girls decided it was my turn for some more fun. “What next?” Megan asked. She grabbed my stiff cock with her left hand and squeezed up from the base to the throbbing head. “I think you’ve earned some more. Where do you want this guy now?”
“I want you to ride it,” I begged. “And I want Bridget to finger your clit while you do it.” Bridget had no objections and moved closer to my right side while Megan mounted me. Her cunt slid along my cock as she rocked, teasing me, refusing to let me inside. I grabbed her hips and forced my dick between her lips. “Oh,” she moaned in half surprise and half delight. My fingers dug into her flesh, my dick thrusting deeper into her plush pussy. After a long, moan-filled kiss, Megan rose up to ride me. On cue, Bridget let her middle finger slip between the tops of Megan’s folds. Lustfully, Megan pumped up and down on my dick while thrusting her clit against Bridget’s fingers.
My view was immaculate. Her melon tits jiggled with each plunge of my dick. Her face contorted into pure, unabashed pleasure as she screamed. Creamy cum gushed over my cock and Bridget’s fingers. A lusciously wet noise accompanied each thrust of hips and hand as Megan rode out her orgasm. I sighed, relishing the feel of it dripping down my shaft and onto my balls.
Megan climbed off me and cuddled up next to Bridget. Their bodies glistened with a mix of sweat and each other’s cum. “There is just one more thing I want this evening,” Megan said, looking adoringly at Bridget.
“Anything,” Bridget said eagerly.
“I want to watch you fuck him,” she said, her lips breaking into a mischievous grin.
“I think I can handle that,” Bridget said, a grin spreading across her own face. I clearly had no say in the matter, though it wasn’t like I wanted to object. Bridget spread her legs, inviting me towards her. I obliged, leaning into her body for a kiss, my cock pressing against the top of her pussy. A small whimper left her lips, my hands making their way up her limber body to her small, firm tits. I couldn’t believe I was about to do this, that I was going to be allowed to do this. I looked over at Megan for reassurance. One look was all it took. She leaned back, taking in all the details. She must have enjoyed what she saw. Her hand had found its way between her legs, fingers rhythmically exploring. Without another thought, I thrust myself into Bridget’s tight cunt. She responded immediately, her hips bucking against me, pulling me in deeper. I pulled back, knowing I couldn’t last at that pace. Instead, I put her feet on my shoulders and used long, languid strokes of my cock. We soon found our rhythm, small moans escaping her lips with every thrust.
No longer content to just watch, Megan straddled Bridget’s face, lowering her eager pussy onto the waiting tongue. Bridget dug her fingers into Megan’s ass cheeks, parting them slightly. Her tongue attacked Megan’s already cum-covered lips, flicking downward, beating her clit. After finding the right angle for Bridget’s advances, Megan leaned forward to kiss me. I grabbed her roughly by the hair and pulled her mouth to mine. My thrusts into Bridget were no longer slow. I pounded her pussy, holding nothing back. Her moans were muffled, but I could feel her getting close, her pussy gripping me, urging me on. She screamed, no longer able to split her attention between my cock and Megan’s pussy. The orgasm rippled through her uncontrollably, her body writhing with ecstasy.
On the verge myself, I pulled out and began to stroke my cock. Megan pushed my hand away, replacing it with her own. “Cum on my tits, baby,” Megan commanded. And that was all it took. Cum exploded onto her breasts, covering her nipples, some falling onto Bridget’s stomach below.
I fell back at the other end of the bed, completely spent, feeling like I might never be able to move again. Had this all really just happened? My head swam with quick flashes from the night’s fun, still trying to process what a lucky bastard I was. It took me a second to realize the girls had vacated the bed, and headed for the shower. Megan popped back out to grab an extra towel.
“How you feeling there, champ?” she asked, towering over me once again.
“Fulfilled,” I said. “Totally fulfilled.”
She nodded and grinned. “Told you it was worth the anticipation.” |
