My head is still in a fog. I feel like Gepetto with a Frankenstein “boyfriend” made out of 3+ human beings. In the meantime, enjoy my tale of my first double-stuff experience and a lascivious photo I took a few days ago.
From my archives:
After the first MMF I spent days reeling.
Did that really just happen to me? Did I initiate hardcore sex with two men simultaneously? Did I lay myself bare and vulnerable to their whims and cry in ecstasy? Did I fill my eyes with man-on-man cocksucking? Did I really, and truly drench any part of my home that I spent more than five minutes in?
Yes. Yes to all of it.
Troy came over a couple of days later and it was another incredible, gushing experience. We marveled at how turned on I was. I rode his face, his warm, flat tongue licking my pussy, his hands wrapped around my thighs and I squirted in his mouth. And we had only just begun.
I was perplexed. He was excited. I mean, there was no g-spot stimulation. Why did that happen? And I wasn’t grinding on him, I was only gliding up and down his mouth with my slit, almost gently.
We fucked, he licked, I sucked, he pounded me from behind and I came and came some more. He taught me how to deep throat. My bed was a puddle of juices requiring me to throw down a towel at some point – it was just that wet (and it got cold).
When we were done we lay on our sides talking. “It’s like I’ve opened the gate to a secret garden inside of me,” I said. “I can’t ever go back. All this time, this has been here. Inside of me.” I felt like crying, but didn’t.
More processing, more days go by and Troy and I have plans with Jack for Round 2.
We meet at a swanky hotel bar, Jack is late and Troy is hungover. An auspicious start to say the least, but we all rose to the challenge. Jack caressed my knee as my leg pressed up against Troy’s. I loved the idea that we were completely deviant in an upscale place, in plain view. We had some drinks then left and walking down the street each placed a hand on my ass. I wondered what the doormen were thinking and smiled.
I drove with Jack back to Troy’s condo and sucked his rigid pole in plain sight of Troy in the car next to us. He fingered me and I could feel my insides suck tight and that high-pitched glow start to shine — that notice to my mind that my body was engaging.
If my life depended on it I couldn’t tell you how shit started that night, but here’s what I can tell you: I have bruises on my pelvis from be fucked so hard from behind while laid out over a granite island, my toes only brushing the floor; my left nipple is still sore to the touch; and I have fingerprint welts on my right buttock. And those are only the physical marks left behind.
Jack and Troy were inspired that night.
Jack dove into my ass with his face as he played with my clit and fingered me deep inside, my mouth stuffed full of Troy’s gorgeous cock.
Jack held me against his chest, with his back to a wall and Troy held my legs and fucked me standing up.
And again I came with ejaculate running down my legs, pooling on the wood floors, soaking the couch, the rugs, everything in my path. The men were titillated, their arousal enraged by my own. They flipped me, they stroked me, they pillaged my body.
They 69ed and I gently touched them, explaining how it made me feel to see two masculine figures pleasuring each other.
My mind held on for hours until, while sucking Jack’s monster cock, Troy inserted his massive toy into my cunt. I felt cold and a deep sense of filling, then also a warm pressure at my entrance. I bore down, not thinking, my face stuffed, my mouth and mind busy, and then I felt extreme tension and even more filling of my channel.
Troy groaned and pumped into me. He, and the giant dildo, were both plunged deep inside of my body. Everyone held still.
I heard exclamations, my pussy cried its tears of pleasure some more, and my. mind. left.
It rose above me and watched three beautiful creatures pleasure each other. There was no more Me there in a real sense. I had transcended to a place of sheer sensation.
At some point I cried uncle and begged for a cigarette. I pulled on someone’s button-down shirt and stood like a mare in heat at the kitchen sink. Hands shaking as I pulled on my fag, knees trembling with my legs spread wide to hold myself up. They talked about how I had cracked. It was true, I had, but I wasn’t going to admit it. I wanted more.
I was back on a rug, with Jack under me. I straddled him and leaned forward, Troy poised behind me and he pushed gently in. I couldn’t move, I was so filled with cock and awe. Literally: cock and awe. Again, my mind shattered as an idea I’d never considered became reality: two men buried deep inside my interior, together. Even they hadn’t imagined it.
We flipped around with Troy on the bottom, Jack behind, and I kissed Troy helplessly as Jack’s thrusts jostled my face over his lips and mouth. He whispered something like, “Oh my God, Hy… can you believe it?” And I simply cried some more and shook my head No.
Condoms were sucked off and we had to stop. I rolled off and over to my side and lay panting. Jack tenderly spooned me and occasional struck my right hip/buttock. The pain sending thrills to my spent brain. Eventually it smarted horribly and he grabbed some ice. It trickled over the mounds of my ass and cooled my lips before dissipating from the heat of my skin. He kept tracing circles with the ice then lightly smacking the same spot he was cooling. Ah, the tension of pain and pleasure abounded…
Later, I relaxed on a chair as Troy deep-throated Jack while he looked at me. His jaw stretched taught, his sherry-colored eyes boring into mine, Jack’s turgid length jutting out every so often as Troy pulled his lips back. My insides colored red, my heart raced, more splintering of my fragile mind…
By now I had ejaculated approximately 30-40 times. I call it “cumming” for lack of a better word, but it’s not a clitoral orgasm. It’s something different, something effervescent and luscious. Heat spreads out from my chest, into my arms, neck and face; my mind races, I get cum-dumb; I lose control of myself and my senses. I become a sensual nerve. It’s glorious and lovely and I love it.
Now we’re winding down. I’m exhausted and can barely form sentences. Then I have an idea.
I’m wrapped in a blanket and standing next to a reposing Troy on the floor. Jack is also standing somewhere nearby.
“I’m going to cum again. Don’t touch me.”
They don’t know what to say so say nothing. I close my eyes and let the images and sensations of the past few hours roll over me and I feel tension build in my pussy and juices squirt out, run down my legs. I’m shuddering, the men are now wondering aloud what’s going on, then Troy, whose legs I’ve straddled feels my juices hit his knees.
“Oh my fucking, God, Jack. She’s squirting…”
Jack doesn’t believe him and I squirt again. “No, really. She totally is! I can feel it!”
I keep going, gently swaying with my efforts and I can hear Troy coarsely whisper, “It’s like a Phoenix…”
He’s referring to my sexual revolution. He knows what this means to me.
I finish my show and look for my vibe. It’s played a part in tonight’s games again and I reach for it, push Jack back in a chair and straddle him. I want to cum so badly with a cock impaling me. Troy is behind me, cupping my breasts as I ride Jack, vibe pressed down onto me. He’s hotly whispering how beautiful I am and what a unicorn I am and I cum hard, squirt more and fall limply back into his arms.
Now. Now, we’re done.
Jack goes upstairs to rinse off and I sneak in one last private orgasm on the floor. Alone. And yes, squirt all over my hands again.
I drag myself up to Troy’s bed and collapse deeply into his pillows. Jack comes over and says, “Goodbye, dearie.”
“Till next time, Jack.”
Troy joins me in bed and he can’t believe what just happened to us. I’m languid, a fleshy pile of sex and sedation. He starts to recount our evening and I feel that shine starting again. I press my mind to explore it and again I cum to Troy’s deep voice.
Before I wet his bed any further I ask him to bring me a pair of boxers. Now I really want to test this out – away from the exposure of two men. Now it’s just one relaxing in bed beside me. I try again and I drench the fabric swaddling me.
More words, more awe, then sleep. I awake later from a dream, turned on, and cum again. Maybe? I don’t know. I think that’s what Troy told me. By now this seems as lurid as scribbles on a bathroom wall, but it’s actually all true. And at this point I wouldn’t put dream-cumming past me. It’s happened in my past, so why not now?
The next morning dawns and I feel dead and alive simultaneously. Troy’s back is to me and I am spread-eagle on the other half of his enormous bed. I stare at the ceiling and wonder if I should slip out soundlessly to be alone with my thoughts. I think better of it and doze instead; alone, but not.
Hours later, starving, and pressed for time I decide to leave. I think I could live in a cave for a week, but I’m also thinking I want more, but Troy isn’t up for more sex. He has things to do and is feeling physically fragile. I tsk-tsk myself for wanting so much and think, “Just get dressed. First things first.”
I put myself together: jeans, one leg at a time, apply a little makeup, smoke a cigarette on the balcony while Troy finishes his morning ablutions.
I walk across the space I’d hovered over the night before and hug his middle goodbye. He kisses the top of my head. “I’m not even going to ask if you had a good time.”
“I won’t ask you, either” I say into his robe.
And I leave.