A Late Night Adventure

She had ridden her 400cc offroad to this assignation, pulling up and parking haphazardly right outside. When she arrived the petrol fumes still clung to her tight black jeans and leather jacket. As she walked into the whiskey bar the antique clock on the green-baize wall struck 4 pm. She brushed her long hair back casually with one hand as she walked slowly up to the man waiting at a table in a shadowed part of the room.

She was not that absorbed by him that she didn't notice the darkly good-looking men sitting in a huddle at one of the poker tables. They were smoking cigars and laughing, smiling suggestively at her as she walked past. She flashed them a grin but... he was waiting. And he didn't like to be kept waiting...

Not much time passed before the man in the shadows stood abruptly, downed his whisky in a quick gulp, and left. She didn't follow but sat there slowly sipping her drink and now and then swirling the ice against the sides of the glass thoughtfully.

She didn't feel like leaving. In fact, she felt quite rebellious. He wouldn't like it if she didn't go safely home, alone. The last time he had left her alone in a bar he had pretended to leave and then hung around in the back, watching to see what she would do. Annoying! She was getting pretty sick of his games. So, she stayed.

It didn't take long for the men at the poker table to walk across carrying their drinks, with an extra for her. "Do you play," one asked with a lopsided smile. "Sometimes, she said."

The evening wore on. Between laughing and talking, surrounded by amusing and attentive males, she felt relaxed, happy even. On each side of her sat a beautiful Irish boy, charming and seductive. Not difficult to like. From time to time a hand would brush her thigh, or rest there, possessively. The attentions were coming from both sides, and she let them.

They were both young, lean-muscled, and smelled...good. She leaned in and inhaled deeply. "Shall we take our party to the hotel?" the one on her right said. Hmmm. And why not? The thought of being waited on by these two was ... exciting. In the taxi they both made no attempt to hide what they wanted, first one and then the other reaching out and kissing her deeply.

She started laughing, "Both of you?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow. "Why not!"

The luxury suite at the Weston was dimly lit... they burst in the door laughing...one of them had pretended to chase her and the other to try stop him, all the way to the room. She had evaded and dodged both... getting just close enough for a quick touch before pulling away.

In the room they led her out onto the balcony. One poured them all more drinks, while the other opened up the doors to let in the summer night air. The lights of the city shone like a second sunset, warmly lighting the room. From somewhere music was playing -- somebody on a cello, with brass accompaniment. Cape Town was like that -- always something happening.

The tallest one pulled her towards him, and held her gently for a moment, before turning her around and removing her jacket and string-top, leaving her silky camisole in place. He rubbed her nipples with each hand, making her moan slightly with pleasure, and then turned her around to face him again. He knelt at her feet and looking up at her with a steady blue-eyed gaze, unzipped each boot and slowly removed it, raising her feet one at a time and kissing her languorously on the instep.

The other stepped behind her, pressing himself firmly into her back. She could feel his arousal pushing into her, hard and insistent. He ran his hands down her curves and over her hips, and back up to her jeans zip, pulling it down with a tug. His friend reached up from where he still knelt on the floor and pulled her jeans down completely, exposing her white, lacy g-string and silk camisole.

"May I," he asked. She nodded, and he lent forward, nuzzling his face into the cleft between her legs, nipping and sucking through the lace.

"My turn," she said, kneeling as well so she could reach him better, pulling off shirt and running her hands over the bulge in his thin chino pants. She could see moisture seeping through the cloth where the tip of his cock would be. She rubbed her thumb slowly over it and he gasped.

With a thud a couple of pillows and blankets fell to the granite floor of the balcony, and cock boy's friend joined them on the floor. He pulled her back against him, and spread her legs in between his, giving his partner access to her most intimate parts. A quick tug and her panties were pulled to one side, and tongues and fingers went to work on her, while from behind boy number two ground his cock into her lacy ass and kneaded her breasts from behind.

Cock boy climbed up her, slithering his whole body along hers. By now, other than her lacy panties, they were both naked and exposed to the warm night air, that whispered like silk over the skin.

The cello kept playing.

Cock boy reached past her and kissed his friend deeply. Then her, then back again. For a while they held each other closely, stroking and kissing. Then they pushed her gently onto her hands and knees on the piled blankets, and pulled her panties halfway down her legs.

"Still okay," one asked. She nodded. Words weren't necessary. She didn't even know their names, and didn't want to.

Cock boy knelt in front of her, giving her access to him... while behind her she heard the rip of plastic, and then felt the blunt tip of a cock push slowly but insistently into her. Oh so slowly. Pulling out until she felt empty and cold, and then suddenly slamming back hard, making her moan again.

For a while, all that could be heard were gasps, two rough voices and one slightly thinner and higher. It didn't take her long to climax with four hands touching, and two cocks rubbing against her, pushing into her, two mouths sucking and nipping and kissing. No part of her went untouched for that long. It became a blur of hands, mouths, cocks and bodies. Sweat mingled and dripped onto the grey granite. Every now and then one of them would reach across for a swig of icy whisky. Some of that ice held in a mouth, and then rubbed against a nipple, or a throbbing cock.

"I want us to come together," one said. "Mmmm hmm... show me what you want," she said.

"Like this!" Cockboy lay down and let her straddle him. Behind her, cockboy #2 gently parted her cheeks and rubbed his swollen member against her ass. She jumped a little, but really, felt so good. Bending her forward slightly, gripping her by the back of the neck, no 2 pushed his way into her, so she was filled more than she ever had been before. A cock in each part of her, and fingers thrust into her mouth. "Don't move," the one behind her said. He was doing it all, oh so slowly, and she could feel the man beneath her respond to the feeling of the cock in her ass, rubbing him through the walls of her pussy.

The cello kept playing.

They kept thrusting -- one behind, one beneath... in a seesaw of motion. Hips thrusting up and then falling back like a wave, while from behind, oh dear lord...

She could hear her own voice from a distance... crying out over and over as they kept thrusting. Each wave of her climax crashing through her...leaving her no space to breathe. She heard them...first one then another...as they spent themselves inside her... until all 3 lay in a sweating, exhausted pile of limbs and bodies, tangled.

The last thing she heard were the gentle strains of the cello, with a few brass notes, dying slowly out...then silence