I had one steady girlfriend throughout college. I met her my freshman year; she was a sophomore. When we met, she was dating a guy at another school but that did not stop her from pursuing me. She was the most sexual girlfriend I have ever had. She was super kinky and loved to have sex, as much as she could get.
Her boyfriend would often call when we were having sex. She would try to get off the phone immediately but sometimes he would insist on talking. I was a real prick; I would fuck her hard to try to make her moan into the phone. I don't think he ever knew about the phone calls. But it always made me throbbing hard to think what it would be like to be on the other end of that phone and talk to my girlfriend while some other guy was nailing her.
My senior year (she had long since broken up with the other guy), she was studying at a grad school a few hours away from my school. When I saw her on weekends, we screwed like rabbits and we had a lot of phone sex. I knew she spent a lot of time with guys, and knowing her, I had plenty of reasons to doubt her faithfulness. Though I should admit that I was hardly faithful myself. I hated having to worry about who she was screwing, but at the same time, the idea turned me on. My fantasies about her with other guys became a regular topic of our phone sex. And eventually she admitted how much it turned her on to think about being with another man. She especially liked the idea of fucking another guy while I watched or listened. After a while, she was getting more turned on about it than I was.
The object of much of our discussions was an Italian classmate of hers. He had tried hard to get her into bed and hit on her all the time. The first time they met, he said her tits were so nice guys must stare at them all the time. Normally she would be insulted by something like that, but coming from him she seemed flattered. The way she talked about him I could tell that she was intrigued. I was more than a little jealous.
At the end of the year he graduated and was going home. He asked her to dinner to say good-bye. Much to my dismay, she accepted. She assured me it was only friendly and nothing would happen. I knew he was planning this as his last chance to get her into bed, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I spent the evening of the date trying not to think about it. When I did think about it, my dick would stand straight up and not lay down until I jerked off. When she finally called at midnight, I had already come five times.
Our conversation went like this: "Hi dear, I just wanted to -huh...- call and -ahh-... say good...night." At the same time as her "huh" I heard what sounded a lot like a headboard hitting the wall.
"Hold on a second" I said, "let me switch phones."
I got on the phone in my bedroom to talk, it took about half a minute to change phones. My stomach was in my throat due to what I was sure were the sounds of my sweet girlfriend being fucked by that Italian jackass. When I picked up the other phone, I could hear her breathing heavily. "How was dinner?" I said, my heart pounding.
"...Mmmmm, it was ok, nothing exciting. I just got back -huh- and I -gasp- really just want to get to ...bed."
"Are you ok? Your voice sounds strange."
"Of course, I am ... just -umph- tired." I heard the bed squeak. "I just want ... to ... get some sleep -mmph-."
"What are you doing? Is he there?"
"Don't be... ridiculous. Alright sweetie I have to -ah- go." Her voice sounded slightly frantic toward the end and I heard what sounded a lot like a man groaning just as she put the receiver down. I immediately tried to call back but the phone was off the hook. Obviously I assumed she was getting fucked. I had this strange mixed emotion of being absolutely livid with rage, stomach-churning feelings of hurt and betrayal, but at the same time having a painfully hard dick. I contemplated driving up to her school and trying to catch them at it. But it was late, and I had class in the morning. So instead, I lay awake all night, alternatively thinking of ways to get back at her and jerking off as I replayed the conversation in my head and imagined what they had been doing.
The next day I drove up to see her. Through considerable use of guilt and pressure, I got the truth out of her about what had happened that night: Whatever her original intentions, she definitely dressed to turn him on. She wore a thin shirt with no bra to make sure he would get his fill of her round perky tits. She wore a skirt that showed just enough leg to peak his interest. And she wore a white cotton thong, my favorite. He picked her up at his house and kissed her hand at the front door. They drove to dinner. Not much happened at dinner other than that he was very charming. There were lots of sexual innuendos and flirting. Whenever he got the chance he would touch her arm or rest his knee up against hers under the table.
She thrives on sexual tension; the prick was playing my girlfriend just right. Later when I grilled her on it, she admitted to me that she was dripping wet by the end of dinner. After dinner, they walked across the street to a quiet bar. Over drinks he brought the conversation around to sex. He was feeling her out to find out what turned her on. After the second drink, he mentioned that his last girlfriend and he had another guy in the bed once. He and the other guy had fucked each other and both had fucked his girlfriend.
This was my girlfriend's biggest fantasy (I refused to do it for her). I know my girlfriend: at hearing this, her pussy clenched tight and started flowing. Then he started asking about our sex life. She told him how much she wanted to watch me with another guy and how I had refused. And she told him lots of other stuff that I wish she hadn't. But the worst was that she told him I was terribly jealous of her friendship with him and that I got a raging erection every time I thought about them together.
"In fact," she said, "he is probably at home jerking off right now wondering if I am going to sleep with you tonight."
