This story is something that I wish happened -- but it didn't because I was too scared to go ahead with it. I was eighteen, curious about sex and the type of girl who loved being in trouble. I was seeing Natalie, a gorgeous tall brunette with athletic curves and a huge naughty grin. I'm bisexual with a high sex drive -- up to this point, we had about a month of wild sex and partying and I hoped it would never end. Natalie was a stripper and she knew a lot of famous people, mobsters and other interesting folk. My dark side loved every dangerous moment. Like me, Natalie had a lot of male friends and this warm summer afternoon, we were at a barbeque at her friend's inner city house. Her friend Michael was gorgeous -- about six foot six, muscular, dark and handsome. Nat and I had an open relationship and she said she wanted to watch him fuck me. I was interested but nervous -- it never happened. At this party, Nat had told me not to wear underwear because she wanted to play with me under the table. I also knew Michael had a sex swing, amongst other stuff, in his room -- it was a sexually charged afternoon, filled with promises that could have went anywhere. My mind still simmers hotly over what could have happened...here is one scenario ;-)
*****
I arrived in my old car, parallel parking in the crowded narrow street. Michael was very successful; and like most of Nat's friends, I wasn't entirely sure what he did, or whether it was totally legal, but he had wealth, which he flaunted with sports cars and a luxurious modern terrace house in a trendy inner city location. Not quite a part of this scene, I had bought a new dress for the party -- a tight body-conscious style white dress with a yellow floral pattern that had a pencil skirt that went to the knee. I had my white blonde hair cut below my shoulders, with short blunt bangs -- at this time, it was styled like Patricia Arquette's in 'Lost Highway' -- and as instructed, I wore no panties. I needed a bra to support my 8G breasts so I had bought a pretty white sheer push-up bra. I had high glossy white patent stilettos that made me almost as tall as Nat and the heels elongated my shapely legs.
Hesitant, I walked up to the tall cement fence and pressed the intercom button, peering through the cast iron bars to see a Porsche and an Aston parked together in a car port. "Hello," a deep male voice responded.
I said who it was and the gate popped open. I walked in, palms and greenery dangling overhead as my heels clacked on the flagstones. Michael had come out to see me, giving me a very friendly lingering kiss on the mouth and offering champagne, which I declined. I felt nervousness chew at me again as I felt his eyes linger on my small curvy frame, enjoying my tight dress. He was very attractive -- half Italian, arrogant, intelligent and articulate, very much my type and I thought of what Nat said, about him wanting to fuck me -- and how she wanted to watch.
He took my hand, his woody aftershave luring me in and I followed him around the side of the house, out to a large deck surrounded by more greenery. Nat was sitting in her usual tomboyish way, her long legs folded to her chest, her chin on her knees, cat-like eyes gleaming as she controlled the banter with the two men with her. Nat saw me, her face breaking into a big smile and she jumped to her feet, running over and kissing me passionately. All the men stared, openly interested. Nat was dressed simply in a singlet, no bra and a short denim skirt. She always joked that I overdressed, called me Princess as a pet name. She whispered I looked good enough to eat and I shuddered, my pussy warm and wet. We sit together, her hand on my bare knee and I feel like I'm not really part of their conversations, I'm feeling too young and rather silly. I excuse myself to go to the bathroom, slipping into the beige interior of the large house and locating the marble bathroom. I welcome a moment to myself, checking my reflection and thinking about what to do.
Nat is waiting outside the door. "Are you OK? You're quiet," she said.
I say I'm fine, it's just kind of weird because they're older and I don't really know them.
"Michael wants to fuck you," she said matter-of-factly. "He thinks you're gorgeous. He wants to eat your pussy."
My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what to say.
Nat says, looking me in the eye, "I want to watch him eat you and then I want to watch him fuck you."
Nat always made me blush like crazy. I pressed my hand against my cheek and laughed. "I don't know," I said lamely.
She kissed me, her knowing hands running up and down my body, pinching my nipples to attention. "I will convince you," she said and took my hand. She led me into Michael's bedroom and I protested a little, but went inside, allowing her to put her hand up my skirt and fondle my increasingly soaking wet pussy as she kissed my neck. As she pushed me against a wall, I saw the sex swing that Nat had told me about as well as a huge king bed in the centre of the large room. There was a mirror on the ceiling. Michael obviously liked sex.
