Confessions of a Threesome Pt. 01

"Tell me," he encouraged. His hands had returned to my own breasts and were kneading them gently. "What were your fantasies?"

I was mesmerized by the Wife's breasts in my hands and found myself massaging them in a similar way the Husband was doing to mine. My fingernails gently scraped her nipples, and she moaned as they hardened under my touch. She pulled up and began kissing down my jawline.

"My current fantasy?" I mused absently. "I meet a woman at a club. She's a lesbian with a lot of experience. She'll take my hand without a word and lead me to an empty room. There she'll strip off my clothes and, and -- "

"Go down on you?" he finished, his tongue flicking into my ear. "Eat you out?"

"Yeah. That feels so good," I murmured. His tongue dipped in again. I pinched the Wife's nipples, and she bit the delicate skin under my jaw in response.

"Do you touch yourself when you think about these things?" she asked, her breath hot on my neck.

"Oh, yes," I responded softly. She pulled her body up higher, and I realized her breasts were now in front of my face in open invitation. I hesitated for a moment before pushing them together and pressing my face in between. She cupped the back of my head and held me there, lost in her softness. I kissed the edge of her right breast while my hand stroked and plucked the nipple on her left. She was making sounds that indicated to me that I was on the right track. I let my tongue trail lazy curlicues around her breast before I slipped her nipple into my mouth and sucked.

"Fuck, you're perfect," she whimpered.

"Can I take this off?" the Husband said into my ear, his breath making me shiver. His hands fisted in my sweater.

I hesitated. The Wife ran her fingers along my scalp in a calming gesture. "I don't know," I hedged.

She pulled away. "That's all right," she reassured me. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Are you just nervous, sweetie?"

"I... I've never let anyone see my body," I mumbled. My times with my ex were all either under covers or with the lights out.

Both the Husband and Wife made cooing noises and pressed me tightly between them. "We think you're so beautiful," he said to me. "There is no part of you that you can show us that we won't worship."

"Sweetie, we want you, we want ALL of you," she echoed. "Do you really not see what we see?"

They continued with their endearments to me, and eventually I felt comforted, adored. At some point I nodded my consent, and she pulled the sweater over my head as he unhooked my bra. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut while they did.

"Oh, God," the Husband groaned when I was exposed to them.

"I wish my tits looked half as good as yours when I was your age," she said.

My eyes flew open, my shyness momentarily forgotten. "But your boobs are bigger than mine! They're perfect," I blurted. Mine were just big enough that I needed a bra but not so big that they ever got in my way.

She laughed and pressed against me, our breasts crushed against each other. "The grass is always greener," she grinned.

We began kissing again, and after some amount of time, we had all shifted so that I was lying flat on the couch. The Wife was on top of me devoting attention on one of my tits while the Husband knelt on the floor and had the other one secured between his teeth. My eyes rolled up as I clutched both their heads to me and moaned. My panties were completely soaked.

The Wife pulled up and placed her fingertip between my lips. I closed them and sucked. "Mm," she said. "I want to eat you out just like your fantasy, Cameron." I froze at her words, and she kissed me softly on the cheek. "Not today. Just know all I'm waiting for is your signal, your permission. Would you like that some time?"

I thought about it, and my pussy clenched in response. "I do," I replied. "Yes, but have you ever, um?"

The Husband chuckled and stroked my hair. "Oh, yeah. You have no worries there. My wife eats pussy better than I do, I guarantee. But when you let her, would it be O.K. if I could watch you?"

I couldn't help but laugh at the image. "Oh? Would you be meek and quiet in the corner while your wife went down on me?"

"Not so meek, not so quiet," he replied with a wide smile. "But I wouldn't get involved. I just want to watch."

"Sure." I didn't know where it came from, but I then boldly asked, "But you'd like to join eventually, yes?"

"You bet your perfect ass, honey," he rumbled.

So, we had reached another level. The dog would get walked, and then all three of our tops came off in the living room, a couple times in the pool. We took time to explore and become familiar with our upper bodies, theirs with mine and mine with theirs. I told you already about the Wife. She was slender but didn't have much muscle tone. She was softness personified, a human downy pillow. After sharing a joint, there was nothing I loved more than to doze off on the creamy pale ripeness of her bare chest, her hands stroking my hair.

I also mentioned the Husband's build. He was so tall (6' 5"), and I often wondered how they fit together during sex. He wasn't sculpted or overly ripped, but he loved exercising outdoors, running, swimming, etc. Every plane of his body was hardness, a delicious dichotomy to his wife's suppleness.

I definitely wouldn't say I was over my self-consciousness at that point. But my neighbors seemed, for lack of a better word, enchanted by my body. "Look at these little pink pearls on your tits! Just begging to be sucked and bit," they'd say. It wasn't like I completely believed them and their words of affirmation, simply that a sort of cold pragmatism had set in. "They've already seen you," I'd tell myself. "If they don't like it, they're hiding it well, so just shut up and enjoy the ride."

Often during these sessions, we'd talk and share our fantasies, going deeper and deeper into our psyches as time went on, and the alcohol and marijuana surged through our bodies. The Wife told us how she dreamed of being in a gangbang just one time. She wanted to be used and discarded by an endless stream of men, their hot, sticky semen drenching her body. She wanted every orifice taken as it pleased them, and when it was over, she'd go back to normal, but she'd carry the memory of it with her every day for the rest of her life.

As for the Husband, he said he tended to be Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde in bed, that sometimes he'd lose himself and become absolutely ravenous. The Wife nodded in confirmation with a small smile on her lips, and I shivered at the prospect of him unleashing the beast with me, not sure if I could take it. But, he said, his fantasy was to engage in a full non-con role play. I might have been green in experience, but I read all the magazines, books and stories I could get my hands on in my insatiable lust for sexual knowledge, and I knew non-con meant non-consensual, or forced. He told us that the ultimate design of this setting was to have a woman completely at the mercy of his unrestrained hunger and go from scared and crying to begging and pleading for more as her body betrayed her.

I looked at the Wife after he finished divulging, and as if she read my mind, she shook her head ruefully. "We've tried it," she explained. "But we know each other too well. He can't immerse himself fully in the role play."

"They're just fantasies," he said, hugging me to him. "Even if you could act them out, maybe you don't really want to. Maybe just the excitement of the thought is enough."

"Right," the Wife agreed. "A gang bang may be my dirtiest, hottest fantasy, but I can't imagine a situation where I would ever actually agree to one."

I also told them some of my fantasies and kinks (like how turned on I got by dirty talk). The truth was, I wanted to try almost everything. I of course had my hard limits -- I refused to entertain the notion of anything involving pain, animals or bodily fluids that were considered waste. But anything stamped as "healthy" sex had gone through my fertile mind at some point. However, I was reluctant to share my specific dreams about threesomes with them. I wasn't sure why I hesitated, but I think now that it was because I wanted to be led down this path by them. I was afraid they'd want to try my scenarios if I shared them, and then I'd be in charge. That made me uncomfortable, as I felt most cosseted and accepted by them when I was the eager third, the innocent submissive in a way. This may have just been me projecting, but there's no way to know for sure now.

Occasionally during these trysts, the Wife would tease the waistband of my pants, her fingers trailing my midriff while plucking at the elastic. I almost always wore sweatpants when I'd go over there. I was afraid of being too uninhibited with a skirt, and jeans restricted my movements. Not to mention I was afraid my drenched crotch would betray me in anything other than loose pants. I didn't encourage her, and she didn't pursue it further. As she told me before, she was waiting for permission.

Well, one day, I was determined to move forward in our arrangement. To steel my nerves, I had three glasses of their wine, boom, boom, boom, after I returned the dog and while they were channel surfing. It honestly didn't matter what we settled on at that point. We were just looking for ambient background noise to our playtime. I think now that I was putting pressure on myself. I was afraid they'd get bored if we didn't progress sexually, but in hindsight I really don't think that was the case. Like I said before, they had other thirds on speed dial. If I had never wanted anything more than making out, I believe they would have been fine with it. I wish I could go back now and tell myself to relax.

As I whipped my shirt and bra off and joined them on the couch, I felt myself in that pleasant place between tipsy and drunk. My inhibitions were down, but I was still in control of my actions. Perfect. I reclined across their laps, my limbs moving languidly.

"What a lovely display!" the Husband laughed. He was so handsome when he smiled. I put my hands on his bare abs and felt them contract as he cupped my jaw and slanted his lips over mine. A moment later, I felt the warm weight of the Wife cover me as she focused her attention on my aching tits. I felt my pussy cream with desire, the wine being just the right accelerant to ratchet up my need. Suddenly all the thwarted pleasure I had been denying myself with them reached a painful point within me. God, my body was on fire! Unfortunately, that was not one of the days the Wife tested my boundaries, and my hands soon fisted the comforter beneath me in frustration.

"Please, please," I breathed between the Husband's hot kisses. My eyes locked with the Wife's, and she went still.

"Yeah?" Realization dawned on her, and there was so much hope and longing in that one word. Her eyes practically blazed with suppressed lust. They were the electric blue of just-picked blueberries.

I nodded a fraction. "Yeah." I felt like I had scaled a mountain and now was expected to leap off, but I refused to back away. I looked up at the Husband. He swallowed thickly but then carefully extricated himself from me, stood up and left the room. Before I could wonder where he went, I felt the smooth enamel of the Wife's fingernails on my stomach as she reached her hand into my pants and underwear and let her middle finger glide through my slick folds. Something about the boldness of that one action, her total lack of hesitation, turned me on something fierce, and I moaned in response.

"Ooh, Cameron," she crooned. "You're so fucking wet. You've been ready for us for some time, huh?"

"Yes," I whispered, my voice shaking. "I'm always like that around you two."

She looked away, and I followed her gaze. The Husband had grabbed a chair from the dining room and was now sitting several feet away, facing us. He was close enough to see the action but far enough that he couldn't reach out and touch us. "It's a flood," she told him. "She's so wet you could fuck her right now, no foreplay." She slowly inserted her middle finger in her mouth and sucked. I gasped, and the Husband murmured, "Oh, damn," as he watched us.

She turned back to me. It was like I had unleashed something wild inside her when I gave her permission to go further. She wiggled my pants and underwear off in one swoop. I closed my eyes tightly, but I realized something just then. Their slow seduction of me paid off in this moment. We had grown so comfortable with each other and our bodies that I didn't tense up or try to stop her when she stripped me nude on that couch. Even still, it was difficult to reconcile spreading my legs before them. The Wife put her hands on my knees and murmured comforting words about how beautiful I was and how much she wanted to see my gorgeous body, how much I turned them on and what an amazing woman I was. Eventually, I let her words wash through me like the alcohol and allowed her to push my knees to either side.

There was silence for several seconds, and then I heard her whisper, "Fuck," with such a powerful fervor that I opened my eyes for the first time since I had become naked. She was staring at my exposed cunt in rapture. I looked over and saw the Husband wearing the same expression. She had positioned me so that one leg was over the back of the couch and the other was on the floor, giving the Husband optimal viewing. Her hands squeezed my inner thighs, and I bit my lip. Damn, she was right about how turned on I was. I was wet with my juices even on my thighs. She glanced up at me. "You have an exquisite pussy, Cameron."

"You don't even know," the Husband murmured in agreement. "We've spent so much time wondering what you looked like; it's even better than we imagined. So pink and wet and tight." Something inside me clenched at his words. I've seen my vagina in hand mirrors before. I didn't think it was all that special. But under their gazes, I felt beautiful. I was glad I had taken the time to shave completely.

The Wife feathered kisses along my inner thighs, the tip of her tongue reaching out to taste my juices on them.

"What's it like?" the Husband asked tightly. I looked over at him and saw him fisting his stiff cock over his cargo shorts as he watched us.

"He loves descriptions," the Wife told me in a throaty voice (actually, you're both a lot alike in that way). "Salty and sweet," she answered him. "She tastes like pink salt and peaches growing in the sun." He groaned, and I felt my cheeks color at her words. Without breaking eye contact with me, she leaned down and placed more kisses along my labia before taking a long slow lick along the entire length of my slit, the tip of her tongue only just slipping through my folds.

I leaned my head back and breathed deeply. My hands reached back, and my fingers dug into the arm of the couch, my breasts thrust up in display. "Yeah, like that," I heard the Husband murmur.

"Has anyone ever gone down on you?" she asked as she used her fingertip to circle my freshly-shaven pussy. She stayed on the outer edges, never delving to the center.

"Yeah," I breathed while I melted under her touch. "It was unpleasant."

They chuckled. "You didn't come?" she asked. I shook my head no.

"Poor guy. It takes a while to develop technique," the Husband said sympathetically.

"You certainly seem to have that down," I said to the gorgeous woman nestled between my legs. Taking that as her cue, she let her tongue wriggle into my pussy, using it like a tiny cup to catch my cream. I watched, eyes wide in shock, as she pulled up a bit and then let her tongue stick out flat so that what she accumulated could drip back down onto my aching clit. I bit my lip, and my clenched hands spasmed on the couch arm. She used her first two fingers to massage the liquid around and around into my exposed clit, and I moaned.

"Yeah?" she asked breathlessly. "That feel good?" I mm-hm'ed in response. "You like me touching your clit, sweetie, you want my mouth on it?" I nodded desperately, but she didn't comply. One side of her mouth was quirked up in a wicked smirk, and I realized what she wanted.

"Please, please put your mouth on my clit," I asked.

"Ooh, yeah, you love my tongue on this hot little clit of yours, huh?" she asked. "So fucking small and pink, just waiting to be sucked." I realized she was indulging my desire for dirty talk, and it worked unbelievably. I let go and rocked my hips up toward her mouth. "Suck it, please!" I begged. "Be the first woman to make me come with your mouth, I need it, you're so fucking hot and sexy!" The words were spilling from me without filter. I heard the Husband groan, "Holy shit!" the moment before his wife suctioned her mouth over my clit and began to frantically flick her tongue over it.

I cried out and reach one hand down to clench her hair. The electric sensations zinging through my tightly wound body were unlike anything I had ever been able to achieve on my own. She went from licking to desperately sucking on it, the accompanying squelching sounds vulgar and exciting. More liquid dribbled from my pussy, and she inserted one finger, then two, and began working them in and out of my tight passage. My hips bucked beneath her, but she rode me throughout it, her mouth never breaking the suction she created. I grabbed my tits in desperation and squeezed my nipples as I called out her name. Her head shook wildly left to right as though she couldn't get enough of my smell and taste, and the fingers she worked in me sped up faster and faster until she was furiously finger fucking me to the third knuckle. She made mm-mm sounds as she continued to eat me out and then delivered the coup de grace when she sucked my clit between her teeth and lightly bit down. My back arched off the couch, and my thighs clamped down on either side of her head, but she refused to let up. Between my frantic shrieks, I could dimly hear the Husband chant, "Yeah, yeah, yeah," further away. The knowledge that he was watching such a dirty, intimate thing just compounded the sensations.

"Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!" I cried. "I'm coming!" Sweat trickled down my temple, and when I looked down, all I could see was the fever brightness of her eyes locked onto me. She bit down on my clit again and then sucked for all she was worth as those clever fingers kept hammering into my sopping pussy. My whole body spasmed with the first shocks of my orgasm, and I shouted as I exploded in release. She rode me through the whole thing, and when it was finally over, she eased off and then let me go. She sat back on her knees, and my dazed mind took note that she was absolutely drenched in my pussy juice from her chin down to the top of her chest.

Oh, my God. I had never, never, never imagined I could have an orgasm like that. My sweaty limbs were splayed out on the couch, and I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to move again. My head rolled listlessly to the side, and I saw the Husband collapsed in the chair, his head hanging back. Slowly, he lifted it and met my eye. "I came too," he admitted with a worn out laugh. I looked down and saw the wet stain on the front of his shorts. "That was one of the fucking hottest things I've ever seen. Are you O.K.?"

I opened and closed my mouth a couple times before I managed to croak, "I think so." My throat was raw from my yelling.

"Good. You sounded like you were being murdered," the Wife said, tiredly. I rolled my head back to her and saw her slumped against the back of the couch and wearing a huge grin. "It's a good thing this house is soundproof, or else someone might have called the cops."

I smiled and weakly reached out a hand to her. She crawled on top of me, and we embraced and kissed. I sucked my fluids off her tongue as I brushed her hair off her wet face. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for letting me be your first woman and the first person to make you come."