First Summer: a Threesome?

Foreword

These stories are based in Australia and written in the idiom the characters would use.

Some issues in language variations I anticipated and built translations into my narrative. Others have caught me by surprise especially in their intensity. Generally, the intended meaning will be clear from the context if you don't cling too tightly to your usual usage.

Crutch/ Crotch has been a subject of much comment. Australians more commonly use 'crutch' and that meaning of the word is supported by the Macquarie Dictionary.

Story

Surprisingly, my memory of this episode is a little hazy.

So far as I recall Kate and I were lazing around in our bikinis at the holiday house, drinking a glass of wine while waiting for Greg to come home from work. My family were out, so we had the house to ourselves. With a little help from the Dutch courage I'd imbued, I told Kate I'd always wanted to watch and film Greg making love to another woman and I wanted that woman to be her. Confirming my long held suspicion that she'd been aching to bed him for much of the last four or five years, she just about jumped out of what little in the way of pants she was wearing in her agreement to participate.

So we agreed that when he got home, I'd arrange for Greg to strip, then I'd blindfold him and Kate would seduce him; my voice being there to convince Greg that it was me seducing him.

When Greg got home, I told him we were going down to the beach and to get dressed in his swimmers. Since I still had my bikini on, he had no reason to doubt me. Kate was out of sight. Watching him as he started to changed, when he reached the point where his work clothes were off I told him to stop as I had a better idea.

"Close your eyes"

"What are you up to?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out" Picking up and tying on the blindfold I'd already placed strategically within reach, I guided him out to the living room where there was more space and the camera had already been set up. Kate had now come out of hiding.

"Where have I heard that line before?"

As had been pre-arranged with Kate, I got him to lie down on the floor and then stepped back to the camera, allowing Kate to come forward. Kate knelt over him straddling his thighs. Greg felt her there and started to reach out for her. Grabbing his hands, she placed them firmly on the floor beside him; indicating by her actions that's where they should stay.

Greg was by this time already fully aroused; not just aroused, but the erect shaft was bobbing up and down in anticipation and letting out generous amounts of pre-cum. Kate leant over him and hooked the lower tie of her bikini top over his shaft, straddled the shaft with her breasts, pushed them more firmly against it with her hands and started pleasuring him by moving them up and down along it. While the breasts worked the top and sides of his shaft, the bikini string worked the lower portion.

Greg clearly enjoyed it. With moans and outbursts of "that's nice" he was content to lie back and take it in.

I could see Kate was using Greg's body to stimulate her nipples as they made themselves prominent within her bikini top. Kate periodically turned her body a little, brought the shaft within a triangle of her bikini top and moved it up and down across a breast.

I zoomed in on the area to watch Greg's shaft act as an enormous bulge pushing through the triangle before bursting out the side and then withdrawing within the top again – Kate pleasuring it between her engorged nipple and the material of the top. A line of dampness formed across the material marking where Greg had left a trail of slimy pre-cum as his shaft traversed the triangle. Eventually it was so wet with his body's output that as the shaft burst out from the material a bridge of the fluid was formed like mozzarella on a slice being pulled from a pizza; until the surface tension was overcome and the bridge broke.

The material of her bikini top started to be dislodged by the movement, her nipple appearing out the side. With each stroke his unyielding shaft could be seen crashing into the solid plinth of her nipple, the latter bending over to be buried in the generous flesh of her breast to make way for the former.

I could see Greg was starting to get to the point he might come. Through a series of hand singles, I made it clear to Kate I wanted to be the one who finally got Greg to deliver his seed.

Changing tack, Kate brought her crutch up over Greg's face. Lifting his hands up off their resting position, she placed them on the string ties of her bikini bottoms, indicating he should remove them. Slowly, savouring the moment, Greg complied; gently pulling the strings one at a time and letting the crutch of the bikini bottom now damp with Kate's juices fall across his face where he made a point of sniffing them before pulling them aside.

Putting a hand under his head, Kate lifted his face towards her crutch – not so high it would touch, but just so much that as she rocked her hips past him he would get a scent of her. With a second pass – moving from the top of his head downwards – she tilted her hips forward and lifted his head just a fraction higher to lightly glide the tip of his nose through the slot of her crutch and across her clit. Easing his head back to the ground to give her two hands to support herself, she lowered herself down to present her naked crutch to his mouth, inviting him to use his tongue on her. Greg was of course all too ready to do so and I could quickly see Kate was becoming very aroused; swaying back and forwards ever so gently, her face giving expression to silent moans that couldn't be vocalised least they gave Greg notice of a different player.

Predictably at one point Greg reached up to try and play with her breasts. Since there was no way Kate's breasts could be mistaken for mine – even with a blindfold and welder's gloves on - that would have given the game away. Kate firmly grabbed his hands and put them back on the ground.

Now I could see Kate was reaching the point of her own climax. Rather than go over, she pulled back from Greg's mouth and moved her body back down along his until she was straddling his shaft. Then she bent it up. With aroused excitement I watched as my boyfriend eagerly lifted his hips up to meet her and saw the length of his shaft disappear inside another woman. Then it partly withdrew and entered her again, and again, and again. The tempo of Greg's thrusts started to increase as Kate started to bring her body down to meet his, grinding her clit on his pubis.

Greg's shaft started to glisten as it was coated with Kate's juices. As they kept at it beads of her fluids ran down his shaft and enmeshed themselves in his pubic hair. Somewhere I lost my need to be the one to take delivery of his seed. I wanted to watch Kate be filled by his precious cum; to watch him coat the inside of her pussy with it; to watch her crutch pounded by the massive final thrusts that would accompany his orgasm, to be able to watch the thing over and over on the video I was recording.

Just watching proceedings to this point had already left me needy; my fingers already playing with the front of my own bikini now wet with my own juices.

Kate leant right back, so that she was almost lying on her back along Greg's legs. I immediately recognised it as the extreme G Spot position; one I'd been tempted to try but didn't think I was fit or flexible enough to pull off. Now I had a better view of Greg's shaft – the shaft I regarded as my personal shaft – entering another woman time after time, Greg playing with her clit with one of his hands. Kate motioned to me to come and stand over her face, then reaching up and untying my pants, she started licking me, slurping up the juices flowing from my body.

By this point in the summer Greg was good at this, Kate was better. It seemed like she knew exactly what a girl would want – hardly surprising really – and knew just how to deliver it. As I bent forward over her to give her a better angle, I lent down, removed her bikini top and started playing with her nipples. With my breasts now within reach of Greg's hands, I reached down and brought the spare one up to play with mine too. For some reason Greg didn't immediately realise the incongruity of the breasts being in the wrong place for the person on top of him. To an outsider, we must have looked something like a group playing a kinky game of sexual twister.

Kate came first. With a loud groan she started pounding against Greg. Just as I thought I saw her squirt over Greg's stomach, I was distracted by my own orgasm; one that caused a singular long loud moan to emanate from me.

Next thing I knew my eyes opened in a darkened room. Greg – as he often did as we slept together - had a hand over my breast; the nipple engorged in to his palm. I had one of my own hands down between my legs; the fingers on it now damp. OMG, I'd been dreaming.

Greg brought his face close to my ear. "What was that all about?"

I tried to act innocent "What"

"It sounded like you just came"

"How loud was I?"

"Very"

"I think I had the female equivalent of a wet dream. I'll tell you about it in the morning" Although, frankly I was hoping he'd forget all about it.

While intensely pleasurable, there were more than a few things about the dream that disturbed me. None of what I'd just dreamt was in what I would call my normal repertoire. Why was I dreaming about having sex with a girl, watching Greg with another girl; let alone a threesome? Even my bikini and swimmer fetish had made it in to the dream. And were my fingers innocent bystanders or active conspirators to what happened?

When I managed to get some time alone to Google it later in the week I found out that they're not uncommon fantasies even for purely straight girls who wouldn't have the slightest inclination to actually act on them. Still why had they all crept up on me unannounced in a single dream? And why me? The fact that many girls might have these fantasies doesn't mean that all – or even most – do. Why when I think of myself as more boring and repressed than the average girl would I have them? Why too had I had a wet dream when I was getting all the sex I wanted?

Needless to say, when Greg asked me about it again in the morning I fobbed him off with a "I was dreaming about sex with you" and dealt with any other question as briefly as possible.

I think my parents might have slept through it, but Brad and Steve both made it abundantly clear that they'd heard me. I decided it was better that they think I was actually having a midnight session with Greg then tell them the whole truth, so just accepted meekly whatever they dished out – as long as it wasn't in front of mum and dad.

But Greg didn't entirely escape the fall-out from the dream. Even though it was my dream; even though in my dream Greg had been an innocent caught in my trap; even though the mind picture of him making out with Kate in my presence continued to be a truly deeply erotic one my mind couldn't let go, I still for a while had to struggle with a thought that Greg had done something wrong; that I should be angry with him. Maybe the dream had been so real and so powerfully erotic that it had become seared in my brain. Naturally I tried my very best to suppress the feelings and I think I managed not to have them show to him, but it did show to me what a strange thing the human mind is.