3 friends and the swingers party

Billy:

I'm not a party person. I hate the noise, I hate the crowds and I hate the mindless small talk. But here I am again, sat on a couch in a dimly lit room while my girlfriends upstairs fucking a stranger.

I can hear her. Even over the music blaring from the living room down the hall. I hear her moans. I recognise them.

She's a beautiful woman, smart, sexy and funny too, with the most perfect body I've ever seen. I hope whoever's inside her knows just how lucky they are.

I like to listen. I like to hear her being pleasured. It's my thing.

Theres more people here tonight than usual. Perhaps word has gotten out about how wild these parties can be. The couple who were just in here seemed to be having a good time, I'm not sure they even noticed me sat here as they kissed and groped to the rhythm of my girlfriends moans. Or maybe they did.

But It's just me and some random dude in here now, in this study, this private nook. He's the socially awkward type, I can tell.

His face lit from the light of his phone as he scrolls aimlessly.

He's good looking though, well dressed in a formal shirt and trousers like he's come straight from the office. His dark hair cut short and gelled in place and his 5 o'clock shadow was beginning to show. He'd do well tonight if he wanted.

I wondered if he could hear my girl getting railed too? Of course he could. The way he shifted in his seat to adjust his growing bulge told me all I needed to know about that. I was hard too.

There's a certain etiquette at these kind of events. Some are talkers, some aren't. Some are confident and others not so much. I respect that. But sometimes people just need a gentle nudge.

With a beer in one hand I unzipped my jeans with the other.

My throbbing cock eager to be released. I said nothing.

Leaning my head back I began to massage my shaft with my palm, my underwear was already soaked in pre-cum, it felt cool against my warm skin. My breathing deepened with every stroke.

Even with my eyes closed I knew he was watching me.

I felt him shift in his seat again as the light of his phone faded, then I heard him unzip his trousers. His breathing matched mine.

We sat in silence.

Following my girlfriends lead, we both began to increase in pace.

We licked our palms in unison as though we'd rehearsed it beforehand, then pulled down our underwear to reveal our tools.

We sat at opposite ends of the couch, not speaking, not touching, only listening. We gripped our cocks, stroking back and forth in time with each other. I didn't know if he was imagining fucking my girl or if it was me he wanted, but whatever the reason, it made my cock solid in my fist.

He was the first to moan, he must be getting close. I know I was.

I inhaled deeply as my cock began to pulse. My body jolted and shuddered as I tried to hold back for as long as I could.

But it was no use, we were both jerking our cocks like it was a race to the finish.

I heard my girl climax upstairs, we both did, the sound was unmistakable. But now it was our turn.

Our legs touched briefly as we both shifted in our seats to unleash the inevitable. Without any words between us it felt like a nod of approval or a congratulatory hand shake between two mates.

Gasping as our bodies tensed, ropes of hot cum suddenly pumped out onto our stomachs. We grunted with relief as our balls emptied. If it had been a race it would have been a photo finish.

We both slouched back into our seats. Breathing heavily, trying to catch our breath. A bead of sweat slid down from my brow. Doesn't this place have air con or a fan or something? It must be time for another drink.

Ritchie:

Spinning the turret, a single white ball deciding their fate.

Red or black.

Whom will Lady Luck strike tonight?

... ... ... ... .

Red.

... ... ... ... .

She knows her part, what is expected.

Hands, reaching around her back.

The zip, unclasping, pale skin, exposed to me.

His eyes, never leaving her, watching.

Off the shoulders, toned stomach.

Dress, pooling on the floor, forgotten.

A blink, his only sign of intrigue.

... ... ... ... .

Turning, dropping in.

Rhythmic clicking.

All three of us, leaning, looking.

Stopping, breaths hitching.

... ... ... ... .

Red.

... ... ... ... .

Turning, a few short steps.

Bending, pert cheeks, aligned with his face.

Fingers running up her outer thighs, hooking in.

A bite of his lip, a shuffling in his seat.

I know all to well that feeling.

Slowly, so very slowly.

Her ruby lacy thong, uncasing, always a tease.

... ... ... ... .

Click ....

Click ...

Slowing, all eyes on the wheel.

Click.

Coming to rest.

... ... ... ... .

Black.

... ... ... ... .

Knot, loosening, top button undone.

Fingers and thumb working, one by one, popping open, skin exposed.

I dare a glance at her, her eyes, glazing with arousal.

Hair upon perfect chest, tie hanging, not removed.

Chiselled abs, a vision in simplicity.

My only thought, I'll never be him.

... ... ... ... .

A flick of my wrist, circling again.

Dropping in, anticipating.

I know what I'm hoping for.

Motion, ceased.

... ... ... ... .

Red.

... ... ... ... .

Swaying, moving to music only she can hear.

Both sets of eyes, enthralled by her.

Hands, running through hair, falling again around her face.

Closer, tempting, just out of his reach.

His hand, grabbing at his restricted member.

Seducing, luring him in.

Ever the vixen.

... ... ... ... .

Place your bets.

All eyes, fixed on the single globe.

Agonising wait.

Movements, halting.

Inhaling, in unison.

... ... ... ... .

Black.

... ... ... ... .

I watch, she watches.

Buckle released.

His hand, slipping in, grasping at firmness.

Unleashed, unsheathed.

Stroking.

Their eyes locked.

Biting her lower lip, a hint of appreciation.

My own erection, trapped, discomfort.

... ... ... ... .

Twisting, spinning.

Impatience, growing.

Desisting.

Colour, selected.

... ... ... ... .

Red.

... ... ... ... .

Arching her brow, smirking.

Before him, her fingers, between her folds.

Wetness, coating his meat, preparing.

Twitching, under her deliberate touch.

Wanting, salivating.

... ... ... ... .

The sphere, riding the curve.

Continuing, my only part in this whole encounter.

My heartbeat, matching it's pace.

They wait, I wait.

The outcome, settled.

... ... ... ... .

Green.

... ... ... ... .

Standing, lifting her up.

Legs, snaking around his waist, ankles crossing.

Lips, meeting, tongues exploring each other's mouths.

Raising my brow, exhaling, cock pressing against my fly.

Moving, striding with purpose.

The table their destination.

His arm, sweeping, chips scattering.

Laying her down.

Trousers, inched lower, his arse exposed.

I, merely a spectator now.

No preamble, entering her.

A moan, escaping her lips.

Thrusting, fast, hard.

Ankles, still locked, pulling him deeper.

Grunting, his hands cupping her tits, fingers pinching at nipples.

Her head, tilting back, our eyes locking.

Pressure, building within me.

Body moving, ever pump, given with purpose.

Pure pleasure, adorning her face.

In.

Her nipples erect, pulled by him.

Frantic, deep.

Out.

His teeth gritted, focused.

Her hand, moving lower, finding her clit.

In.

Her walls, clenching around him.

Moaning, panting.

Out.

Her fingers, circling, searching.

Ready, waiting, ever the voyeur.

In.

I know that look, she's closing in.

Animalistic groans.

Out.

Her movements, hurried, hard.

Panting, chests, rising.

In.

His buttocks, clenched, scrotum tight.

Held, jerking, releasing.

Her body still, back arched, thighs trembling.

Lips falling open, a silent scream.

Hot, white, exploding from me.

Inhaling, exhaling.

Game over.

... ... ... ... .

She came, with him.

She leaves, with me.

After all, the house always wins.

Victoria:

I take in my surroundings before I succumb to darkness.

A red velvet armchair with lion feet for legs, sits alone in the middle of the room.

A dressing table with mirror and brush nestled on the desk and a blindfold, carefully placed for my consumption.

I pick up the blindfold, feeling the softness of its silky fabric between my fingers.

A thick pile carpet cushioning my feet as I remove my dress and heels.

Taking up my position on the chair, feeling the plush fabric on my thighs I try to get comfortable.

Applying the blindfold to myself, I am ready.

Succumb to darkness with only my senses to guide me, I await my fate....

I hear footsteps enter the room.

One person.

The steps get louder as they approach the chair.

Smoothing my curly hair behind my ear, a feminine touch.

"You waited patiently. Good girl" they whisper.

A finger under my chin to raise my face, a tender kiss upon my lips.

Their scent, woody.

Goosebumps appear upon my skin as I wait with anticipation.

Walking away from me now, all I can do is listen and wait. I hear something being picked up. They are tapping it against their palm.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

It sounds firm in their grasp.

And then I feel it.

*thwack*

Against my exposed thigh, in a short, sharp blast.

I shout out in surprise and grimace.

Firm object against my skin, stinging and warm where it struck me.

*thwack*

This time on the other thigh, my senses heightened.

Tears form in my eyes, but I daren't cry.

"Good girl" they whisper again as the object stops hitting.

Now I'm being stroked where it stings, a small laugh escapes their lips. They are enjoying toying with me.

I reach out with my hands to feel my torturer but am stopped by a mighty grasp around the wrist. Firm, masculine.

"No touching please"

My hands placed back on the arms of the chair.

They are now stroking my thigh, up and down with a slow, gentle touch. Working higher to my crotch, the sting replaced by a feeling of excitement. Stroking the fabric of my blue, silk panties. Caressing my mound within. A thumb, circling on the outer fabric. I can feel the moisture within.

They drop to their knees and spread my legs as far apart as the chair will allow.

I groan. I'm ready for pleasure.

Both hands, one either side of my legs working upwards towards my sex.

Pulling now at my panties as they attempt to get them off. I lift my bottom slightly off the chair, helping as they are tugged over my thighs, knees and over my ankles.

"A keepsake" they say in a husky voice.

Feminine? Masculine? I cannot tell.

Legs opened fully, they are now kissing my thighs where, only 2 minutes ago, I felt pain.

Replaced with pleasure, I can feel the excitement build.

A wanting tongue licks higher until my lips are parted with a hand and my clitoris is exposed. Panting with pleasure from both parties, licking faster and more eager, circular motions mixed with lapping, I feel the pressure build.

One finger rammed inside me.

Urgent.

Desperate.

Pushing my head back into the chair and lifting my hips, I allow them access whilst increasing sensations rush through me.

Exploding onto their hand, clitoris throbbing, I cannot take anymore, I lose control. Relaxing back into the plush fabric they are lapping me up.

.....

As my breathing returns to normal, the room is quiet.

"Are you still there?"

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

A tug of my hair, firm and purposeful to lift my head, they find my mouth with theirs, tongues probing, kissing eagerly. Tongue piercings touching.

Back down on their knees, finding my nipple with their mouth they begin to suckle at my teet. Groping my engorged breast, exposed and erect.

Suckling at it like a child, groans of pleasure escaping their lips as my milk is released. Drinking from me whilst spraying myself and the chair with the other as I find the situation overwhelming.

I reach for their head to support them whilst they feed. Short-ish, wavy hair greets my fingers.

They stop suckling and I wait.

*thwack*

"naughty girl, I said no touching" The burning sensation returns.

A flick of my nipples.

My milk rubbed into my skin like moisturiser and down to my vagina, my legs parted in a hurry and a hard object inserted into me, it doesn't feel phallic.

I moan with pain, but my vagina deceives me and takes it.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Pushed further in with every thrust.

I wetten and it becomes easier.

I move my hips in rhythm with the thrusts and relax.

Finding myself getting aroused by an object.

I have no idea what it is.

Harder, deeper, faster.

Groans matching thrusts, my pleasure begins to build.

I reach down and rub my clitoris as its saturated with milk.

The familiar release as I let go and coat the object with my arousal.

It is removed from me and I hear it drop to the floor.

As I sit back into the chair, panting and exhausted, I hear the click of the door.

*silence*

"Are you there?"

*silence*

"Hello?"

*silence*

I sit alone, listening for any signs of movement.

*silence*

I tentatively remove the blindfold, my eyes adjusting to the light of the lamp. There is only me in the room.

I look around and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Hair tousled from being pulled. The hairbrush is on the floor.

I pick it up and start brushing my hair - I need to get tidied up before I rejoin the party. Pantie free.