Such an exhausting, but thrilling, week . . . a week of three different lovers in five days! And . . . three new experiences (inviting someone we’d met at The Club to our home for a “sleep-over”, letting Hubby video me in action, and . . . well, I’ll leave that last new experience until I post about the evening it actually happened on. So you’ll need to be patient with me!!)
We’d first met No.4 at our swinging club some months ago. It had been a “burlesque” theme night (hence the picture above). I’d dressed all in black with my black nipple tassles, gloves and stockings and suspenders. He was cheeky and chatty and we ended up playing briefly then, and then for longer interludes in the “lockable room” on several occasions since. We had actually exchanged mobile no’s on that first meeting and he had sent a text the very next day to say how much he’d enjoyed being with us. I’d sent a polite “thank you, me too” text back as a reply. A week later he messaged again to ask if we’d be visiting the club that weekend. I had to tell him that we weren’t able to make it on that occasion but would let him know the next time we planned to visit. Timing was good for us the following weekend and we let him know we would be going along . . . and sure enough he was already at the bar when we arrived. We played again that night, and then again several weeks later when we’d again told him we would be at the club.
Our times together in the room were a little longer on each subsequent occasion, but it was from our chats at the bar that made both Hubby and I agree that he was different from most of the other single guys we’d met at the club. And, in the aftermath,of one passionate after-club session with Hubby I found myself very, very aroused by his suggestion that it would be fun to entertain “No.4 at home for a sleep-over”. After I’d recovered from the explosion of the sensations brought on by that suggestion, I asked Hubby if he was really sure we could, or should, be doing that. He pointed out that we’d both said after each of our club-sessions with him how different, sensible and genuine he’d seemed.
So as we lay in bed, winding down that Sunday morning, I messaged him to ask if he was interested in joining us the following evening. His reply was almost immediate . . . “would love to”
I’d been quite apprehensive and nervous at work all day and even talking in the car with Hubby on the way home from the office I told him I still had misgivings about actually inviting someone back to our home. I fussed about in the dining room setting out nibbles and glasses whilst Hubby showered . . . it wasn’t until I was under the shower myself that I began to tell myself it was “too late to turn back now”. Hubby set off to pick up No.4 from the station whilst I re-did my make-up and chose my favourite silk robe . . . there was no point in dressing up in one of my club-outfits, he’d already seen me naked. Much better to feel comfortable, after-all we all of us knew why we’d invited him!
He was very complimentary about my robe as he returned my kiss on the cheek by way of a greeting. But that first half an hour was still nervously awkward and difficult as the three of us sat chatting and sipping at our wine. The conversation did flow naturally of course into each of our adventures at the club and our reasons for visiting in the first place, and our fulfilment and enjoyment since. Eventually though it fell to Hubby to finally suggest we go upstairs.
Once in the bedroom though all our inhibitions seemed to instantly vanish . . . just as though we were in the familiar territory of the “lockable room” back at the club. The evening that followed though was anything but like the 30 minutes or so we’d previously experienced at the club.
No.4 and I lay back on the bed, me still in my robe him still in his shirt and trousers. Our slow kissing and fondling was so completely different, and seemingly more passionate, than what we had experienced at the club. It was as though we were discovering each other for the very first time. And amazingly it seemed even more passionate and exciting. Even Hubby (who was sitting watching in the corner) told me later it was so much more sensual and arousing than anything he’d seen me do before.
Our fondling slowly became more amorous and adventurous . . . I unbuttoned his shirt and ran my hands up over his chest, then lay back as he carefully untied my robe. I heard myself gasping loudly even before he bent his head forward to suck at my nipples. I was loving returning his deep tonguing kisses (he’d never kissed me like this at the club) whilst I undid his belt and then struggled to slide his trousers and pants down over his erection. I had remembered his lovely cock . . . I’d thought about it lots of times since that first encounter at the club . . . it wasn’t anything out of ordinary in size but just such a lovely shaped head and smooth shaft. Images of it were once again flashing through my mind as I stroked my hand down over it as I freed it from his pants.
I lost my grip though as he pulled away to slide his mouth away from my breasts and down over my tummy to my already tingling lips. I felt his tongue gliding over me and then a delicious sucking feeling pulling at my clit. His fingers followed quite quickly, too thick sliding into me to be his tongue . . . and too deep and too fast. And the pushing quickly got faster and faster, so fast and so delicious I had to open my eyes and look down. He was crouching over me and I could see, as well as feel, his hand slapping against me as his fingers were thrusting in and out of me. I knew I was already gasping quite loudly with each thrust, but had to throw my head backwards onto the bed and close my eyes again. Groaning out loudly “oh fucking hell, what are you doing to me”. I could almost hear the wetness, the slurping and slapping sound as his fingers pushed in and out of me.
The come was huge, I was conscious only of screaming out and having to reach down and push his hands away as I rolled over onto my side pulling my legs up into my chest. Only minutes ago we’d been cuddling and caressing and slowly undressing each other and now I was curling myself up into a ball, moaning and groaning with the exertion and release of the waves and ripples of a wonderful orgasm.
Instead of suddenly having to remind myself where I was and quickly, and self-consciously, having to get up and get dressed as we would have if we’d been at the club, the release of just rocking back and forth on my own bed, in my own home, was such a wonderful, luxurious, indulgent sensation. I had all those thoughts washing over me . . . and the soothing feeling of his hands gently stroking down over my arm and over my buttocks and calves . . . and all the way down to my ankles. It was glorious, and lovely . . . and selfish all rolled into one.
Hubby tells me the stroking only lasted a few minutes or so, but it felt like half an hour or more . . . until I was conscious of being straightened out on my back again and my legs being eased open. He was kneeling beside me now, one hand stroking over my breasts, the other sliding over my pussy again. Over my lips and already sliding around and around over my clit. I opened my eyes to see his erection poking up between his legs as he knelt there. I reached over to grasp at it, squeezing the palm of my hand around it as I felt myself unbelievably responding again, already, to his fingers rubbing over me. I turned my head across to the other side of the room. Hubby was still in his chair, but naked now too, and his own cock was standing straight up erect from his lap. I reached out motioning with my free hand, seconds later he was standing at the side of the bed next to us and I was wrapping my fingers around his cock as well.
I felt him stroking his hand down between my legs as well, now two hands sliding and rubbing and probing. I could feel fingers pushing in again now, but not Hubby’s. He’d lifted his fingers up towards my face exclaiming, “My God M, you’re so wet, the bedclothes are sopping wet”. I looked up at him for a moment, cursing inwardly that he’d interrupted my momentum . . . and then feeling No.4’s thrusting fingers again, I managed to gasp out “let me suck them then”. The taste of myself on his fingers was like another surge of the excitement and passion of the occasion. I pushed his hand downwards over my tummy again. I felt No.4 shifting . . . I opened my eyes to watch Hubby’s fingers replacing his as he knelt up and started sliding a condom over his erection. I still had my eyes open as he reached up with a hand on each of my knees and pushed himself forwards into me. Hubby stepped away and I felt myself straightening back on the bed and curling my legs around No.4’s back as he stroked into me. His pushing was slow and rhythmic at first and with Hubby leaning forward to start pinching and sucking at my nipples, I felt glorious as I arched my back to push my hips into him. The feeling of both sensations was wonderful. I tried to reach my arms out to grip at his shoulders, Hubby lifted away again to let my hands reach No.4’s arms. Then I was gasping loudly again as he lifted my legs upwards and over his shoulders and his stroking turned to pumping and then to quickening thrusts and deep, deep pounding. I was crying out and he was gasping and groaning and then shaking . . . I knew he was coming, I threw my head backwards into the pillow again gasping out “Oh that’s nice, fucking love it, fucking love it.”
His shuddering continued for several more thrusts, slowing with each push until he pulled away completely, rolling me onto my side again and then collapsing down beside me. I came as I was straightening my legs, shuddering and loudly gasping out my own come as I felt Hubby cuddling into my chest. I was squeezing his hand and pulling him further into me as I could hear, and feel on my back, No.4’s gasping breaths as well. We lay and rested in recovery mode, with Hubby the first to break the silence, telling me (or both No.4 and I) how “that was just the most incredible thing to see”.
We fucked several times more in the hours that followed with truly wonderful turns of fingering and massage and sucking and licking and followed again by more fucking and fingering. Eventually all three of us dozing off cuddled together in exhausted relaxation.
Hubby woke up first, whispering in my ear as No.4 lay gently snoring beside me, that he’d never seen me come so many times! And, he was ready for more! It was 6 a.m. and the morning light was already beginning to lighten the room behind the curtains. I whispered my protest that we’d have to be getting up to go to work in less than an hour . . . but my nipples were already erect under his fingers. As he began licking and sucking at them, my muffled moans and the gentle rocking of my body as he cuddled next to me, had obviously woken No.4. His hands were now stroking over me as well. It was he who sat up first, rolling me over onto my back again and sliding his hands down between my legs . . . and then those fingers, sliding and slipping and then pushing and thrusting . . .
I came twice more . . . Hubby says even more loudly than the night before . . . so loudly that he was sure the neighbours wouldn’t have needed their wake-up alarms! It was wondrous and as Hubby drove the three of us to the station for our journeys into work, we all agreed it had been more thrilling and exciting than any of us had thought it could be.
What a lovely start to the day . . . and what a lovely start to what was an amazing week!!!
