We were two girls in a foreign country. My friend Natasha and I were vacationing in Australia, traveling around for a couple of weeks on our own. Beautiful sites, warm beaches, attractive men. I was in heaven. But I have to say the men were the best part, with their sexy accents.
Which led us to our situation. Natasha and I were enjoying a night out at a pub when we met Michael. The bartender brought us a couple of frosty pints of beer, compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar. Looking that direction, my first thought was, "Those are the bluest eyes I've ever seen!" He flashed a sexy, mischievous grin as I gave him a slight head nod telling him to join us.
Over a couple more beers, we learned Michael was 32, owned a surf shop, was single, and loved straight-forward American girls. Natasha and I were both flirting full-throttle. I would trace my fingers carelessly along my plunging neckline, drawing his icy blue eyes to the inviting shadows of my cleavage. Natasha would run her fingers through her thick, wavy, chestnut hair, letting it cascade down her bare back, only interrupted by the delicate string tie of her skimpy shirt.
I could tell Michael was enjoying the attention, occasionally resting his hand on Natasha's bare back, or patting my naked thigh when I said something funny.
"Sorry Michael, I need to go powder my nose." I hopped off my barstool, grabbing Natasha's hand and giving it a meaningful squeeze.
Never letting me down, she chimed in, "Me too. Can you save our seats for us? We'll be right back." She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, providing him with an incentive to not find someone else while we were gone.
As soon as we were safely in the Ladies' Room, we both burst out into girlish giggles. "He's soooo hot!" I could feel my cheeks burning from my excited grin.
Natasha started reapplying her lipstick, "Okay, who's going to get this one?"
"Rock, paper, scissors?"
We shook our fists and counted to three. Damn! I had paper, she had scissors.
"Sorry!" But she clearly wasn't. Oh well, she's my best friend. What's good for her is good for me.
When we returned to the bar, we sat with her between me and Michael. I joked, but didn't flirt. She turned up the charm. The three of us had a great time for another hour. Before we knew it, it was last call.
Michael was smooth. He very honorably offered to escort us to our hotel. We, of course, invited him up to our room for a drink (we'd picked up some bottles of Shiraz along the way).
While he used our bathroom, Natasha pleaded, "Please stay here. I'll feel safer having you here too."
I laughed, "Sure, I don't care. It's this or sleeping in the lobby. But do you want me on the floor?" I gestured to the queen size bed we were sharing. It had been cheaper than getting two beds.
"No! There's plenty of room, if you don't mind."
"Nah, I can sleep through anything."
A bottle of Shiraz later, Michael was kissing Natasha on the neck. She was giggling. Pulling away she said, "Would you like to stay?"
"Of course!" He said in with his sexy accent, winking at her.
Natasha whispered, "Does it bother you if my friend sleeps in the same bed? I can't kick her out"
Michael glanced over at me, looking into my gold eyes before his eyes drifted to my rounded breasts. "No, the more the merrier." What guy would turn down sleeping between two beautiful girls?
"I'm going to go change." I grabbed my pajamas and went into the bathroom. I didn't have any pajama pants, as I always slept in my panties and a tank top. I was wearing black lacey panties as I pulled on a tiny black tank top. It didn't really matter, because I'd be under the covers most of the time anyway. I washed up slowly, giving them plenty of alone time.
When I returned, the lights were already out and there was a tell-tale sound of kissing coming from our bed. Shutting off the bathroom light, I felt my way in the dark to my side of the bed and slid under the covers, as much on the edge of the bed as I could manage without falling off. I could feel the heat of Michael's body from the middle of the bed.
I lay on my back and tried to sleep, but I couldn't help but listen to the action right next to me. I heard Natasha moan. Then I heard gentle sucking noises and a groan from him. Sheets rustling, bed rocking.
Still, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep. I really wanted to get off, I was so turned on. But I slowed my breathing and started to drift off into a warm, wine-drenched dreamland, rocked to sleep by the rhythmic bed movements.
That's when I felt a hand - a hand sliding over my tank top to fondle my breast. Oh God, Michael was touching me while getting with my friend! He massaged my breast through my shirt for only a moment before his hand moved down to my bare abdomen, slipping under the soft material. He slowly moved his hand up my rib cage to the curving underside of my breast.
This made me so hot! I struggled not to shudder from the thrill of the strange hand touching me .I always fantasized about being taken advantage of in my sleep.
His fingers ascended my soft breast to the peak of my nipple, grazing over it lightly at first with one finger. He rolled his finger in circles over it, cupping my tit with his palm. I realized I was holding my breath, so I slowly let it out, causing my tits to lift slightly. He flicked his thumb over my hard nipple. I could feel the small nub somehow grow and tighten at the same time. He pinched it before moving onto the other breast. After he'd pushed my shirt up, he slid his hand back down my stomach. The sheets shifted and I felt the cool air caress my exposed breasts.
His fingers played with the edge of my panties before dipping under the lace. Should I stop him? I didn't want to. I was still playing my role of being asleep as his fingers found my moist heat. But when his finger pressed against my clit, I couldn't suppress a small moan. His hand froze.
Shit, now he knew I was awake and letting him touch me.
Without warning, he wrapped his hand around my waist and rolled his body. In one fluid motion, he'd moved me to be side-by-side with Natasha with him hovering above us both. He had one knee between each of our legs.