Explaining What Happened

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A chance encounter leads to some wild times.
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brooke
brooke
358 Followers

Okay. So I had to come somewhere to sort all of this stuff out. So here I am, sitting on the banks of the river here in Paris with a coffee, my pen and my diary. I guess the only way I'm going to be able to do this is to write it all down. So here goes.

The South African bar - The Springbok - was great. I managed to start talking to someone straight away - this tall, blond guy called John. He was a looker I guess, with a nice cut shape under his shirt. Talked with his hands an awful lot and had kind of a boyish appeal to him. He told me that he's a biologist doing some kind of research here, but I didn't know whether I believe him or not. Talked a good lot though, and bought me drinks. He was a nice guy, but I was hot for the bartender already. Then the guy on the other side of me - an Englishman called John - starts telling me about one of his friends who has started an American grocery business here in Paris. I've been thinking about moving here for a long time, craving it really, and so I got their phone number and address. I've got it in the back of here for reference. It's good timing, that's all. When I gave the book to John to write down his friends number, Martin, the bartender, grabbed it and wrote down his "autograph" too - his hand brushed mine and I felt the heat. I think it was the first time he noticed me that night but it was a good start.

Anyway, this all happened yesterday. Where was I? John was pretty cool and very insistent that I call his friends. I don't know if I have a chance or whether he was just saying that because he fancied me. We'll have to wait and see. I think I will call his friends tomorrow. What do I have to lose? After last night - nothing. Trust me.

I talked to so many people over the course of the evening. But the bartender was always there, and he always had my eye. We got talking when I ordered a drink, and I found out that Martin plays ice hockey for Germany. I wonder if it is true? He certainly has the build for it. His face was even bruised from a collision the night before. I've never been a big hockey fan, but I could get into it. Especially watching someone like Martin.

As the night wore on the place started to clear out, and I got talking to him again. I was trying to be cool but also keep his attention. I seemed to succeed because he would always go and serve someone else and then come right back to me. He even ignored people for me. I listened to him a lot, asked an occasional question; you know the kind of thing - just to show I was interested. Plus I loved the way his hot eyes looked at me. It was as though he was very... primal.

I was in luck too. His girlfriend has just left Paris - permanently. He was kind of bummed. He and his partner bartender Gareth (a South African who will soon be leaving Paris to run his own bar back home) were cute as hell and a lot of fun. I also met Penny and Thomas from Maryland. Oh, and a girl named Vikki from England. On the whole they were a great bunch of people to party with. I stayed around until the bar closed.

I don't know how to write what happened next. I'm still not comfortable with it.

The sexual innuendo had been flying since Martin has started talking about the spear behind the bar. The whole "stroking the shaft" thing. And, what a surprise, Martin had also given me more shots than I should have had. They closed the bar doors. Before I knew it both Martin and Gareth were all over me. Their hands were on my breasts through my top and on my legs and under my skirt and their lips were everywhere. Martin was playing with the tops of my stockings with his strong fingers. Gareth was rubbing my chest, his hands under my top. I guess it's always been a fantasy of mine but it was a little scary. I mean I guess it's not as bad as I'm making it out to be - especially not considering how hot and drunk I was and how cute they were. No one was naked. I was the only one who was even on the floor. A lot of hot hands and desperate mouths. Mostly my mouth towards the end though. They kept saying that if I didn't feel comfortable they'd stop but I was so worked up at the time that it didn't matter. No, I didn't feel comfortable but I didn't want to stop either. It's not like I get a lot of attention from one exceedingly good looking man on a regular basis let alone two. If I had declined I probably would have regretted it.

So I sat there and opened my legs. Martin ripped - yes, ripped! - My panties off, exposing my pussy. That's never happened before, not with that violence, and I jumped into Gareth's kiss. Gareth was pulling at my top and then my boobs were out - although my top was still up around my neck. The two guys moved in front of me and started to kiss and fondle my chest, running their tongues across my nipples. It was like they knew just what to do. Both of them were stroking the inside of my thighs with their thick, strong fingers, and they traced up into my snatch. Martin was stroking my outer lips, which were so wet! Gareth had found the shudders that go through me when my inner thigh muscles are grabbed and was playing with them.

Martin was still sucking on my rock hard bulleted nipple, but Gareth had gone back to kissing me.

I remember the back of my head hitting the bar and being lifted up there off my stool. Martin's hand had gone from between my legs and I groaned. It was soon back with an ice cube that he rubbed across my outer lips and then down the crack of my ass. It added it's wetness to mine. He lifted the cube to my nipples and rubbed it across them, making them harder than they have ever been. Gareth moved his mouth from mine and, sure enough, Martin pushed the cube between my lips. It tasted of sweat and whiskey and... me. I took it into my mouth and sucked it. Martin press his lips to mine and I opened my mouth, pushing the cube into his. Felt it melt immediately, and his hot-cold tongue enter my mouth. A big, prodding finger pushed between my pussy lips and into my hole, while another played with my clit. I was screaming and shuddering, but the enormity of the whole thing meant that I could not cum. My face screwed up and Martin pulled away. Then there was another finger probing, pushing at my asshole. I opened my mouth to object... but it felt good! No guy has ever done this to me before - not with me being this turned on. A finger entered my ass and I loved it. I screwed down onto it - not that I took it that far up me - and orgasmed. My head banged against the bar. It was the best fucking orgasm I have ever had.

I slowly came down and looked at the two guys. They both had their cocks out and were fisting them. Gareth had a nice one - uncut, with a flared head and two neat balls in his sack. Martin's was uglier - but I thought it was beautiful. At least either inches long, his big strong hand pulled back and forwards as his skin moved across it. The head was giant and flared. I grinned laviciously and climbed down off the bar. Kneeling on the floor I took one cock in each hand and pumped on them, looking from one to the other. I licked my lips, just as I had seen a hooker in a porn video do, and decided that I was going to do it. Pumping on Martin's cock as best I could I took Gareth's into my mouth and sucked on it. It tasted sour, like it had been in his pants for too long, and yet I loved it. I ran my tongue around the foreskin, pushing at it. Then, taking my mouth off, I shifted to Martin and strained my lips around his big head. It felt wonderful. I have never had a cock that big before in my mouth or pussy. I suctioned my lips onto it and started to give him a messy blowjob. As time went on I began to make slurping and sucking sounds. I then switched back to Gareth's cock, eating it eagrely and thankful for it's smaller size. All the time I was looking up at the two hunks above me. Their hands were on my head, each fighting for attention. It was like trying to service two wild beasts, keeping each happy lest I be ravaged and snapped by them. It was great to contrast between the two cocks - Martin's huge and skinless and shiny and salty, with my tongue gliding over it. Gareth's with it's floppy foreskin and musty flavourings. Martin's throbbing with his heartbeat. Gareth's tight little balls under my fingers. Martin's sleek, bulletlike cockhead. Gareth's resisting quantness. I pumped at Gareth and sucked Martin, scraping my nails at the big guy's muscular butt cheeks. I pumped at Martin and massaged Gareth's ball sack. I pumped at Gareth and sucked and smack Martin.

The guy's hands were in my hair, tangling it and begging me, groaning my name. I had never heard my name being said with such husky sexiness by two guys at once before. It drove me wild, and on. My neck began to hurt from the bobbing, but my pussy was drooling on the bar carpet.

Martin. Gareth. Maaaaartin. Gareth. Maaaaaaaaaartin. Gareeeeeth... Cum in my mouth. And then on my face and in my hair as I pulled back and Gareth fountained everywhere. Rather than being disgusted I slid back over to Martin and went to work on him, hard and fast. My hands grabbed at his buttocks, massaging the muscles. I bobbed. I pumped with my lips. I licked his cockhead and, in my excitement, pushed down until his cock was in my throat and my nose in his pubic hair. This made him cum... and I swallowed it. Swallowed it all.

I sat back, exhausted. They stood above me, big grins on their faces and limp cocks hanging from their pants.

I didn't go home with either of them - in fact they invited me back to another bar afterwards. I chose not to go. I was more than a little ashamed - I guess I should still be. It was a bit dangerous, but this is Paris, right? Oh well, what's done is done. Martin asked if I was going back there tonight. He said he's not working but he's usually there drinking. I don't know. It could be a lot of fun - and I'm not going to see any of these people ever again. I don't know if I've got the guts though.

Oh well, Go with the flow tonight. It it vacation. I'm here by myself, I can do whatever I want without having to deal with friends or family knowing. I think I will go back tonight, but later in the evening to make them think I'm not coming. Maybe the "hard-to-get" think is international.Well, not "hard-to-get" after last night but - I have to do something!

brooke
brooke
358 Followers
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