He, She, and I Ch. 04

Part 4: Late Night Quickie

(MMF, true)

Introduction: My girlfriend back in the seventies was a real pistol, a slim, attractive, young lady willing to experiment with sex and have fun with it. We had been together for about two years at this time. She was only in her early twenties and still lived with relatives a few miles away from my apartment.

My best friend from college and I were both in graduate school in nearby cities. He would often come up on weekends, for an afternoon of football or drinking, dinner, and maybe sleep on the couch. When he was between girlfriends, he would be there every other weekend. He, she, and I were very close. The three of us spent a lot of time together.

She mentioned to me one day that she was interested in possibly going to bed with him, if I wouldn't be upset. She thought he was pretty sexy, and we were all very familiar, and she wanted to try another man. Far from being upset, I approved wholeheartedly. She enjoys sex a great deal and expresses it loudly. I looked forward eagerly to seeing a new person turn her on, to watching another man explore her body and her desires, to watching her discover new excitement and pleasure with a new person. He and I certainly thought she was very sexy. She was cute, though not a beauty queen, but she had a terrific figure, medium height, thin, tight, tight hips and tight ass, slinky. And she just exuded sex when she wanted to.

Late the next spring, he came up for another weekend. There was a big party at the college that we all went to. She and I pooped out and left the party first, went back to the apartment to sleep. He said he'd be along later when the beer was gone.

An hour or so later, the doorbell rang. She got up to let him in, put on one of my shirts to cover herself. I guess I fell asleep again for a few minutes, woke up to find that she hadn't come back to bed. There were no lights on, and I didn't hear voices, so I wondered where they were. I got to the end of the hall and I could see them, just inside the front door, standing there kissing. They were kissing deeply, tongues busy, her arms were around his neck, one of his hands on her back. His other hand was between them, under the tail of the shirt, cupping her crotch. He was fingering her hard and deep. Her hips were rolling and pushing into his hand. She was moaning as they kissed. This was real, urgent sex, just standing up and using only a few appendages.

He noticed me standing there, my hand on my dick, whispered something into her ear. She turned around to see me, took his hand and led him to the bedroom. She had not buttoned the shirt to answer the door, so it slipped off easily to a puddle on the floor. He stripped off his clothes quickly, and lay down with her.

They continued kissing. He played with her breasts hanging over his chest. She threw a leg over him, knelt over his hips, took his erect cock in her hand, and pushed back onto it. She impaled herself totally on his cock, which was a good deal longer than mine, She cried out as it opened up her insides deeper than usual. She pumped up and down on his cock fast and hard. She whimpered with every stroke, her cries getting louder, higher, and more insistent for four or five minutes until he came. She came a little, too. Finally, she collapsed on his chest.

He continued thrusting his length into her, pulling it almost out, pushing back in. I watched fascinated as the lips of her cunt stretched out when he withdrew, grasping the rod of flesh tightly, then were pushed back into her hole when he stroked back into her. Each stroke was five or six inches in and out. I wondered what it must feel like to have that much meat pushing into one's body, pumping in and out.

Eventually he softened and pulled out. A large dollop of his come fell out of her pussy onto him. He rolled her off to the side and got up.

As was his style, he got up, showered, and left.

This was the last time we three got together. I'm not sure why, but I think that we all realized that there was no affection here, just lust, just fucking with no love. He was less and less involved in the sex each time, until finally he just used her as a receptacle for a quickie, a place to have an orgasm. I loved her, he didn't, and we could all see the difference. He never paid any attention to her pleasure, never helped her come. She was marvelously multi-orgasmic, but he never saw that because he never contributed to it. No wonder she lost interest, too.