Sacramento, 1983
It began innocent enough. I met my long-time friend Greg, who lived in my townhouse complex, at the clubhouse Jacuzzi. He had with him a woman about my age. She was not gorgeous in the face but had a killer body restrained by a tiny bikini under a tight t-shirt. We sat in the bubbling water, socializing for 20 minutes or so, sipping on Greg's wine when he announced that they were going to a country bar in Roseville and asked if I wanted to come along. I had nothing going, so I said yes.
Greg and I had never had sex before. He was a friend in a committed relationship. This day though, she was on travel. My boyfriend had decided that night to go out with the boys.
Greg is Caucasian, dark hair graying a bit but a good body. His face had seen rough times in adolescence. He kind of reminded me of Sam Shepard, the movie star. His friend was Bonnie. She is also white and petit (except her boobs). For our trip to the bar she put on a long sleeve, white blouse with thin vertical lines of a floral pattern running the length. The tails of the shirt were left out and the pearl buttons were unbuttoned down past her breasts and she had no bra. I suspect she is flying commando under the tight Jordache which flared over cowboy boots.
Bonnie and I are about equal in height. I'm Eurasian. I have big curly black hair and an island-girl complexion. I put on a turquoise tank top but equally tight jeans and 4-inch pumps. I also had no bra. I jiggled just like a Charlie's Angel. This was a fading nightclub fashion at the time.
We met up at Greg's townhouse and had a few tokes from Greg's stash, then jumped into his mini-truck and headed out to the bar about 20 miles away. We were tame on the way out, just continuing our Jacuzzi chit chat. Once at the bar though, things changed.
Every chance Bonnie got she hit the dance floor. She danced with Greg. She danced with me. She danced every line dance and with a few other fellas while she was at it.
Her blouse was open enough, shear enough and her nipples dark enough to draw the attention of all the urban cowboys and the ire of all the cowgirls in the place.
When she danced with Greg she was stunning well past her initial lack of beauty. On the dance floor she had an eroticism that was intriguing and terrifying. She ran her hands up inside his thighs, then down his butt and she pressed herself hard against his body. Her butt passed slow and prurient from side to side like a pendulum, up on both sides and low as she passed the middle. My turn with her on the dance floor was little different than with Greg. She pressed her breasts against mine and then alternately grabbed my butt and let it go as if she had a penis and we were screwing. Again this quasi-lesbian dance did not escape the notice of the others dancing nearby. At the end of our little twosome, as we walked off the floor, she gave me a spank! Hard! After that moment my panties wouldn't be dry the rest of the night.
When we three danced, we sort of huddled together in a circle shoulder-to-shoulder in a darker corner of the dance floor. The other dancers didn't appear to be watching our little klatch this time. Bonnie rubbed on Greg's crotch with a back hand through his pants, all the while grinning at me. Greg was not looking at all comfortable with this but didn't object. Bonnie moved to Greg's front and danced close. I moved to his back and held on to his waist. This was not really country dancing as I knew it. Bonnie pulled my hand down on Greg where her's had been. What I held could not be seen by the other dancers. At least I didn't think so. I could feel Greg had a raging downward facing hard-on. It was an exhilarating feeling for me. It is probably like the feeling men get when feeling boobs. I pleasured in the few strokes I gave it and moved my hand back to his waist. He probably wasn't any more comfortable with me than with Bonnie.
I don't know if other women enjoy the feel of a cock in their hand as much as I do. I especially love the sensation of a developing erection and the tender hardness. As much as is practical I take advantage of my mate's member. I'm not always trying to seduce him, but just to tease his penis and cause an erection. It delights me, and I think...him.
Not much later we three were sitting at our table sipping Long Islands. Bonnie's blouse was all but completely open. She ruffled Greg a bit when she said aloud that she wanted to grab a stranger, go to the men's room and give him a blowjob. Greg worried things just might get out of hand with that attitude and thought it prudent to leave. So we hopped back into Greg's truck, three across, on his bench seat. Greg drove, Bonnie in the middle.
Bonnie was by no means finished. As we drove back to Sacramento, she again stroked his cock through his pants with total disregard for our safety and my presence. She looked at me and smiled as she rubbed. She made it look like a real work out. Her blouse now open, I, quite unconstrained, reach over under her shirt and fondled her far breast. I was astonished at my own actions. This was the first time I'd felt up a girl. It was exquisite. I had a fantasy of this since my middle school days when I saw my brother's Penthouse of two women playing in a hot tub. I just squeezed and lifted the breast then lightly pinched the nipple. I did this a number of times just trying to absorb the touch and commit it to my memory.
Bonnie threw her head back and stroked Greg harder and slower. I was staring at my hand on her boob as passing street lights illuminated the truck cab. I wanted to hold on to this moment...and to her tits for long while. But my focus was broken as she let go of Greg and reached across me to my neck and pulled me in for a kiss, a long kiss, with tongues deep and playful. Her hand dropped to my breast and squeezed. Then she lifted my tank top over my boobs. She ran her hand lightly over my nipple and then cupped the breast and went in to suckle. All the firsts were falling quickly, too quickly for me to take stock and record the details for replay. How it was that Greg kept that car straight on the road I don't know, because he was watching us. She stayed for now on my breasts. I put my hand on the back of her head, pulled her into me and watched. That is I watched and felt. The sensation of her lips on my nipples seemed to have a direct line to my genitals. If I squeezed my thighs together I could have come.
She disengaged and now turned back to Greg. I felt ravished and loved it. I was now all in and way over the line.
She got on her knees in the middle of the seat and unstrapped his pants belt, unbuttoned, then unzipped them. She wrenched out his stiff cock and mounted on it aggressively with her mouth. Her head bobbed and her hand twisted. All the while Greg piloted the little truck true and sure down the freeway.