Fourplay3 Christian

“Would you suck cock for me?”

Not the sort of thing you ordinarily hear from a girl on the first date, but then there was nothing ordinary about Emma.

I hadn’t ever talked to her before that night, but I sure as hell had noticed her. She was hard not to notice. Emma was waitress at this restaurant/ comedy club where I worked bussing tables. She had a slim, athletic build and short blonde hair, with a beautiful face and these huge blue eyes. It wasn’t really her looks that made her stand out, though. I’m not sure what it was. Body language, telepathy, pheromones, whatever it was just screamed out “I am a sexually powerful female” and I got the message loud and clear.

I asked Carlos, one of the Mexican busboys, about her. (In fact, I was the only busboy there who wasn’t Mexican.) He just said: “You’re not her type, man.”

When I asked what exactly her type was, he muttered something in Spanish and walked away. I figured out what he might have meant by that a few days later when I saw another girl come in to talk to Emma, a dark-haired girl with glasses. They talked very urgently for several minutes, and after the girl left Emma was visibly agitated.

So that’s what it’s about, I thought. Emma likes girls.

This should have dissuaded me, but of course it didn’t. I’ve always had a lesbian fixation. (I’m not sure if there’s a term for the male equivalent of a “fag hag.”) Besides, I was lonely.

I had just moved to Chicago after breaking up with my girlfriend of nearly three years, Rhonda. Her constant infidelities and rapidly growing coke habit had finally outweighed the positive points of our relationship. After that, I wanted a fresh start and reasoned that moving to Chicago with no money and no job was the best way to accomplish this goal.

I hadn’t been laid since the last time Rhonda and I had sex, nearly five months before. I masturbated as if training for a new Olympic event, but this was no longer cutting it. Extreme horniness was the main reason why my infatuation with Emma quickly escalated into obsession. I tortured myself trying to come up with a way I could approach her but then, one night, she approached me.

She sat down with me while I was having a cigarette in the break room and we started talking. We seemed to hit it off, so I went way out on a limb and asked her out for coffee after work. She said yes, and we then talked for several hours at this coffee shop I frequented.

Actually, she did most of the talking. This was just fine with me because what she talked about was her tangled love life. I learned that she had two lovers, Paula and Daryl. She explained, in graphic detail, how sex with each of them was great, and also how both relationships had serious problems because Paula was a psychopath and Daryl was gay. I don’t know if she was trying to impress me or if she honestly wanted to get these things off her chest. I didn’t care, either, because hearing her talk got me so turned on that my head started to spin.

I guess she got pretty aroused telling me about it, too, because before I even knew what was happening, we went back at my place and she gave me literally the best blow-job I’d ever had in my life.

Emma didn’t do the head-bob thing like most girls. Instead, she utilized masterful tongue and lip control. Fantastic combinations of pressure, friction and suction focused on the head of my penis. Fast and intense until I was on the brink of explosion, then backing it off slow and soft until my desire cooled. She brought me this way to the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had. Even as I shot off into her mouth, she squeezed the shaft with her lips and dammed the flow by sticking the tip of her tongue into my hole. What should have been over in seconds was in this way extended into a full minute which felt more like an hour. I felt the orgasm not just with my penis, but with every cell in my body. It burned, bringing me to a fever that felt like the brink of spontaneous combustion. Finally, it got so intense I begged her to stop.

She grinned then and kissed me. My mouth was flooded with a jumbo load of my own semen before I could protest. Sometimes I dig that. In fact, sometimes it’s a huge turn-on. But I have to be expecting it. I was so surprised at the sudden mouth full of slimy, salty jizz that I nearly gagged. I managed to swallow it down, though, and Emma looked at me with delight.

“You like that?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said.

“You like to eat cum?”

She started in on me then, until she got me to admit that I’d had oral sex with men before. I guess it was only fair, since she’d confessed her own bisexuality to me, but somehow it’s different for a guy to say he’d been with another guy. There’s more of a stigma against it. Emma, however, got really turned on. She kept pressing me for details.

“Would you suck cock for me?” she asked, finally.

“No, Emma.”

“I think you would,” she teased. “I think you would do whatever I told you to do.”

“Please, Emma.”

“What if I told you that I’ll fuck you in half, right now, and all you have to do is say you’ll suck cock for me?”

I was getting hard again, despite myself.

“Emma . . .”

“Will you?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, I’ll suck cock for you.”

She straddled me, pulling me into her tight, sopping cunt, and I knew that I would anything for her.

I didn’t know then how soon I would have to prove my devotion. The very next night

Emma called and invited me over to her place. Powerless to resist, I went over there and was more than a little disconcerted to find that it wasn’t going to be just the two of us. Emma’s boyfriend Daryl was already there. Her gay boyfriend.

I should explain my position here. I am almost entirely hetero but, as I’ve said, I’ve had a few experiences with other men. Experiments, you could call them. On each occasion, it was part of a menage a trois, so there was always a woman present, and it was strictly oral sex. On rare occasions, I did enjoy another man’s penis in my mouth and even sometimes liked to swallow cum. I’ve turned it down more times than I’ve accepted it though. It all depends on my mood.

On the night I went over to Emma’s, I wasn’t sure at first what sort of mood I was in. I wanted Emma again, desperately, but wasn’t sure that I wanted Daryl, too.

He was good looking, almost ridiculously so. I learned without surprise that he had done some modeling. He was well-dressed, well-groomed and smelled of expensive and tasteful cologne. Daryl seemed to like me a lot, and to be honest, it was a little flattering to have someone so good-looking obviously attracted to me, no matter what their gender was.

Emma kept feeding us pot and wine, lubrication designed to lower my inhibitions. I guess it was working, because I was slowly warming up to the idea. Daryl moved closer and closer to me almost imperceptibly until I was practically in his arms.

Daryl and I were together on the couch and Emma sat in a chair across the room. All of the sudden, she hooked her leg over the arm of the chair and I could see right up her skirt. She was completely naked underneath. Her vaginal lips were swollen and wet. Emma reached her hand down there and began to stroke herself.

“Kiss him, Christian,” she commanded me.

Before I could make up my mind whether or not to obey her, Daryl was kissing me. His lips were firmer than a woman’s, more insistent, and I felt the rough scratch of the light stubble on his face. At first, I was so surprised that I just sat there motionless. I considered pulling away, but then thought “what the fuck” and kissed him back. Daryl’s hand found my lap and it was only then that I realized how hard I was.

Across the room, Emma was masturbating furiously. I could smell her, and the scent of an aroused woman intoxicated me further.

“Take your clothes off,” she said to Daryl.

Daryl stood and slowly undressed. He had a great body. Muscular and athletic, tanned and perfectly proportioned. I had to admire him, even as I felt suddenly ashamed of my own skinny white bod. Then he pulled off his pants and I gasped out loud. His cock was only partially erect, but I could tell it was a monster. He was almost twice my size.

In porno stories, you sometimes hear the women exclaim about how beautiful the guy’s penis is. This always rings false (usually because men write the stories) but Daryl really did have a beautiful cock. Thick and heavy, its skin darker than the rest of Daryl’s body. The head triangular and vaguely purplish. Dense dark brown pubic hair and a tight walnut-textured scrotum. As soon as his genitals were visible, I forgot all about the rest of Daryl’s body and stared fascinated at his naked package.

“Touch it,” Emma told me.

Daryl sat down next to me and I took his penis in my hand, bending down close so I could have a real good look. It was thicker and heavier than my own, and it felt strange to hold it. I stroked gently, entranced by the way the loose skin moved on the shaft. Daryl became more erect as I worked on him, slowly revealing his true dimensions. I could smell his musk and by now I was so aroused that I completely forgot my prejudices against sex with a man.

“Suck it,” Emma gasped.

I licked my lips and bent forward, kissing the head lightly. Then I took it into my mouth. Across the room, I heard Emma moan out loud and her arousal fed mine. I tried to suck Daryl like Emma had sucked me, just using my lips and tongue on the very tip, but it was clear right away that this technique requires practice. So I bobbed up and down, taking as much of his huge penis in my mouth as I could, then sliding out to suck on the juicy tip, where droplets of delicious pre-cum were already beginning to form. At that moment, I wanted nothing in the world more than a load of this man’s semen down my throat.

“That’s enough,” Emma said, before I could get my wish. “Christian, take off your clothes.”

I was a little nervous. Like I said, I didn’t have nearly the body that Daryl did. Not nearly the cock, either. But I could not refuse and, in any case, Daryl seemed to like how I looked. When I sat down naked beside him, he ran his firm hands all over my body, smiling at me.

“Suck him, Daryl,” Emma begged.

Without hesitation, Daryl proceeded to give me what I would have to classify as the second-best blowjob I’d ever had in my life. He wasn’t quite as good as Emma, but the man knew how to suck a cock. The pressure was firmer, almost too firm, but he was able to take in the whole thing. Nobody had ever throated me before and the feeling of being literally swallowed was startling to say the least. He didn’t have Emma’s lightning tongue action, but he did know to lick me all up and down the shaft as well as on the head, and gave my balls proper attention. I didn’t come because I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to and, besides, I wanted this to last forever.

Then Emma said: “Roll over.”

I took a deep breath. I had a pretty good idea of what Emma was going to suggest next, and it made me nervous to say the least. She wanted him to fuck me. Rhonda had liked to screw me with her vibrator on occasion, but that was nothing like having a real man’s cock in your ass, especially one as huge as Daryl’s.

“OK,” I said, finally, uncertainly, deciding only at that second that I really wanted it. I rolled over.

Daryl stroked my ass gently with his hand. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.

I closed my eyes and realized that I wanted it badly. I wanted to be fucked. “Yes,” I said. “Please.”

The next thing I felt was Daryl spreading my buttocks apart and licking my asshole. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting that. I tensed up, then forced myself to relax into it. I had been rimmed before, by girlfriends, and as always the pleasant sensation was tempered by embarrassment, wondering if I was clean enough. Daryl kissed and licked me back there with real gusto, actually penetrating me with his tongue. I guess it loosened me up because by the time he was done, I wanted his cock in me so badly I was ready to beg for it.

Rhonda tossed him something then. I looked back and saw, to my relief, that it was a condom and a tube of KY. I felt the cool liquid squirted into my crack and then Daryl’s strong fingers massaging the lubricating jelly into my ass. He slid two fingers inside, to see if I was ready for him. I was.

The head of his cock entered me, more easily than I’d thought it would. I buried my face in the couch cushion and moaned out loud, pushing back into Daryl at the same time, trying to take him all in.

He went deeper with each successive stroke, until his huge penis was all the way inside me. I was being fucked, actually fucked, for the first time in my life.

It was incredible. I had no idea. I had heard that the prostate was as sensitive as a clitoris, but I’d never believed it until Daryl’s great fucking prick touched me there. It was ecstasy made even sharper somehow by the fact that it was edged with pain. I couldn’t even breathe.

I looked over and was surprised to see Emma sitting across the room. I had forgotten that she was even there. Her hand was working furiously between her legs and I could tell that she was about to orgasm. Getting herself off while watching Daryl fuck me. We made eye contact for a second, each of us lost in our own worlds of rapture.

Daryl reached around and grabbed my penis, and I swear that’s all it took. I shot off an incredible load, no doubt ruining the upholstery. My asshole began to spasm around the thickness buried inside, making it unbearably, deliciously tight back there. I could actually feel Daryl coming inside me, the condom bulging like a water balloon.

I think I blacked out for a second then, because the next thing I knew was Daryl wiping me clean, then helping me sit up. He held me shivering in his arms for a while. I’ve known girls to actually cry after great sex, and for the first time I understood why. It came from being touched in a place where no one else had ever reached.

I swear I’m not gay, though.

The next night all four of us got together, Emma, Daryl and me, and Emma’s girlfriend Paula. I’ve read Daryl’s account of the night (see “FourPlay2: Daryl”) and it’s pretty accurate, more detailed than anything I’d have to say. For me, the memory is as hazy as a dream. My mind was clouded that night by wine and pot, love and lust. I do remember a few things, though.

I remember the look on Paula’s eyes the first time I entered her. Her brown eyes went so wide with surprise that I thought for a second that she might have been a virgin. (I later learned that she had been with Emma for two years, and had not been with a man in all that time.) She kissed me deeply and I fell into her softness.

I remember going down on Emma just seconds after Daryl had fucked her. Gobbling the load of his fresh hot semen which dribbled from her sweet jucy cunt, still tinged with the red wine she’d poured all over herself. All the flavors swirling together in such a heady brew that for the first time ever I thought I might get off just by stimulating my sense of taste.

I remember the circle. Eating Paula’s pussy (lighter and sweeter than Emma’s) while Daryl sucked me off expertly. At the same time, Paula was going down on Emma and Emma was giving Daryl head. All four of us came at once, a single orgasm which raced around the circle.

My God, it was sweet.

Like I said, though, that was as good as it got. Not that the sex was bad after that, hell no. Every night, it seemed, I was transported to an previously unknown realm of pleasure. It’s just that the emotions involved started to make things complicated. For anyone reading this who might be contemplating an extended menage a quatre of their own, take heed. The problems that exist with an ordinary, two-person relationship are not just doubled. They’re squared.

Let’s break it down:

The problem with Daryl and I was one of orientation. He was an essentially gay man who occasionally had sex with women. I, on the other hand, am a mostly hetero man who indulges in rare “walks on the wild side.” As ecstatic as it was getting fucked by him the first few times, and as much as I at first loved sucking his gorgeous cock, it eventually got old. I began to be repulsed by him, and eventually craved only feminine touch.

I had never thought that it was possible for two women to be so different, but making love to Paula and Emma was like day and night.

Emma was lean and athletic, with small breasts and short blonde hair. Boyish, in a way, but with a beautiful face and killer eyes. She was always on top when we had sex, and with her there was no doubt who was fucking and who was getting fucked. She had these incredible Kegel skills, and her cunt could grab you like a fist.

Emma was the center of it all, the one who held it us together. The only one of them that I truly loved. I would have done anything for her, we all would have. That was the only reason that this crazy thing lasted as long as it did, because we all wanted to make Emma happy. Paula, by contrast, was soft and voluptuous. Sex with her was like burying yourself into expensive silk pillows. She had fantastic breasts, which reminded me of all that was soft and warm in the universe. Dark hair, pussy soft and yielding, dripping with sweetness. Reading that over, I realize that I’ve used the word “soft” three times in describing her, but that was Paula.

She scared me, too. Paula had a weird intensity which reminded me of my first girlfriend, Cassandra, and that’s not a good thing. She saw in me a confidant, and confessed feelings to me that she shared with no one else. Paula told me about an elaborate fantasy she’d worked out in her head, that we were all one family. Emma was the mother, Daryl the father, and she and I were brother and sister. It was more than slightly creepy, especially when she called them “Mommy” and “Daddy” and insisted that I call her “little sister” when we fucked.

Daryl was the one to finally break the circle. He eventually got tired of all the female craziness (Emma and Paula could get into violent, screaming arguments which we could only watch in frightened awe) and after I stopped having sex with him altogether, he lost interest and left.

After that, we tried to make it as a threesome for a while, but it was obvious that we were seriously out of balance without the fourth wheel.

We found out that Emma was screwing around with other guys outside the circle. This hurt, but it eventually became clear that she was only searching for Daryl’s replacement, to restore the balance. Of course, it didn’t work. The one time she brought a guy back to the apartment to meet us would have been comical had it not been so pathetic. The poor guy. Emma had lured him up into the apartment with the promise of bisexual ecstasy with another man and two women. But I’d had my fill of men for a long time and was not interested at all. And Paula actually screamed: “You’re not my Daddy!” into the sap’s bewildered face.

I drifted away shortly after that. Paula and Emma were still together when I left, just as they had been when this little experiment began. I hope their relationship survived, even though I kind of doubt it.

What we’d shared, the four of us, had been like a star that collapses from its own mass. Something too pure and bright to exist for long in this universe. The center literally did not hold.

If it’s true that everybody has their own private Heaven, mine would be that cramped Chicago apartment. I could think of no greater paradise than sharing eternity with my three erotic angels.