The Two Steves

This is a remembrance of the only time I made love to two different men separately in one day. It was unplanned, they didn't know each other and they were both named Steve.

I am mistaken for Polynesian. I am from a region nearby and mixed with European blood. I have long flat-black hair, not curly but wild, olive skin. At the time of this story I am 18, long legs, tiny waist, smallish boobs, round bottom, high cheek bones and no fat.

I did not start out that day with the aim of conquering two men, let alone two with the same first name, but I needed some reassurance that I was desirable. I needed to have affirmational sex.

I have moved from working in insurance to working for the county of Alameda and today is Friday, the beginning of Memorial Day weekend.

Steve 1:

In high school, he hosted make-out parties in the basement of his parent's east bay home. The parties were innocent, really. No drugs, just lots of couples having a place to hook-up and make-out. Some, though, may have passed first base. I had, once, when I was felt up for the first time in my sophomore year. Steve was a senior then and though he was pretty and sophisticated I had not spent any time with him. Now out of high school, I can change that.

I warn Steve #1 with a call that I am coming over. I knock on his bungalow door about 9 am. I am wearing bell-bottoms. They have a high waist & are hip-hugging. My peasant blouse is off-white, sleeveless, with some hippie looking design across the chest. Since I am braless as usual, my dark brown nipples show through the thin cotton.

Steve answers the door in his boxers, t-shirt and sandals. His hair is dark like Mediterranean, his face unshaven, and he seems unimpressed with me. So far, this is not very affirming.

He invites me in and asks if I want to get stoned. I don't. He does though, and heads off to the kitchen. I am abandoned in the living room which has a huge picture window with no curtains that looks out on the sleepy east-bay neighborhood. In front of the window is an old burnt-orange sofa and opposite is the TV, now playing cartoons silently while the radio plays alt-rock.

I am on a mission. I take off my top and sneak into the kitchen wearing only my bell-bottoms and clogs. As Steve stands at the counter manufacturing his joint, I squat behind and run my fingers up the side of either leg as I stand and rub my breasts into his back. This gets his attention. He shivers a bit. I stand on tiptoe and I rest my chin on his shoulder and look down at a developing erection under his boxers.

I place a hand on the emerging phallus outside the fabric and stroke. His concentration is taken from the joint. I slide my other hand under his shorts and pull his member straight up. I tickle the underside of his shaft near the head. Now with both hands I begin to pump.

He focuses back on the joint without a sound. He licks the edge and pulls it through his moistened lips. He knows he is about to get laid but he still wants to be stoned. He lights the joint and turns to me making another offer of a hit. I decline and we walk to the couch with his penis pointing the way.

Steve lays into the shoulder of the couch. My attempt at seduction must be routine to him. He takes more tokes of his joint while watching me undress in front of the picture window. The sun streams in making the cool day cozy warm around the couch. I stand naked before him wondering about my desirability. I drop to my knees and pull his shorts down revealing a very pleasant looking cock in full glory. I part his knees and shuffle in on mine between his legs. With just my finger nails I lightly scratch from behind his tightly sacked testicles up and around to his shaft to just the underside of the head. Steve takes deep breath and stares at me with half-opened eyes.

I bend and enveloped his little head with my lips. I first actually suck, then bob up and down for a while. I feel my pussy start to trickle then flood in anticipation the ecstasy to come.

I stand; step back and pick up Steve's feet and rotate him so he is fully on the sofa. I straddle him with a knee on the couch and a foot on the floor. Coming prepared I produced a condom. I rip open the pack and toss it after removing the slippery item. I unroll the prophylactic over his Johnson. I then insert him into me. There was little resistance from my slippery pussy. At first I bounce vertically, and then crank my pelvis forward and back. I realize my upper half is exposed to the neighborhood through the picture window. This excites me even more. I see no one, but I fantasize that someone is watching from one of the other houses. Perhaps an old man with binoculars is also becoming aroused. I arch my back so my tits point straight up as I move along his hips. I am sure now the old man knows what I am doing. My movements can be interpreted in no other way but fucking.

Steve is doing nothing. He is a human dildo. I grab his hand and put it on my breast. I order him to "squeeze my nipple!" "Ouch! Not so much." When he gets it right I just say "There." Now he was participating somewhat. His pelvis begins to pump, pushing his dick ever deeper in me. I feel the shaft pulse. He is going to come. I am going to come.

With one hand on Steve's shoulder I leaned in and start masturbating. With that I could feel him pop, even through the condom. I follow immediately. Steve roars, I scream. Our orgasms probably give the old man watching a heart attack.

Steve's body goes limp but occasionally jerks. I keep riding. I am enjoying the aftershocks of the main temblor. I soak him for all he was worth, then stand letting him slide out and flop onto his belly. I pull off the condom, keeping the elixir contained. I toss his boxers over his flaccid cock, gather my clothes and head for the shower. I dispose of the condom, wash and dress.

I come back to the living room to say goodbye. Steve hasn't moved. He is zonked. I head out looking for from which house the old man was watching. I can't tell.

I am off to buy a bikini for my next adventure, a water-ski lesson from a friend in Marin. I am going to stay at his place overnight to get an early start. Oh, and coincidentally his name is Steve.

Steve 2:

The bikini bottoms I pick out have a nearly rectangular front panel, rather than triangle, and it just covers the hair line. Strings tie on either side with long droopy bows. It is an off-white cotton material. The back side fully covers unlike the front. The top is tiny. It is tied in back and around the neck with a lot of string left over falling down the curve of my back. The "cups" were narrow bands that barely covered my nipples. There is ample side-boob from all angles. After the purchase I get a wax that turns the triangle to a rectangle to match the bikini. I head home for a nap before my next adventure.

It is an hour-and-a-half drive from the east bay. Over the Golden Gate and into Marin, in an area called Kent Woodlands, that brings me to the red door of Steve #2. It is a big house made of thick, wide, dark lumber. Like a log cabin without mortar between the beams which are flat and untreated. About a third of the main house is over the garage. The rest sprawls southward onto what appears to be a big rock. The house is somewhat isolated and is surrounded by a forest of evergreen fir trees, deciduous oak, etc. I knock on the rather out-of-place red door.

Steve #2 I know from my work for the county. He sells insurance for the Government Employees Insurance Co. where I had worked earlier. Later it is known as GEICO. He occasionally drops by and takes my group to lunch. He always makes an impression arriving in a red Carrera (like the color of the door).

At one of the lunches he asks me to go water skiing. I say I'd love to but have never been before. He promises to teach me one weekend. This is that weekend.

Steve opens the red door. I smile and let the bikini dangle from my hand. He chuckles and says, "That ain't gonna cut it on water skis. You're gonna need a wet suit."

I frown.

"My mom has one that'll fit."

I really frown.

"Come in, it'll be cool."

It turns out the house is his parents' but they are in Europe. Steve is keeping an eye on it for them. I unpack in the room he's prepared for me, and then join him on the couch in front of the TV.

Neither Steve nor I are expecting any fraternization at this point. I just bought the bikini to be a tease. Something though changes in me at this moment. Is it hormones? Is it just my wanton nature? I don't know, but I now am on a mission to lay two separate unrelated fellows named Steve in a day. I snuggle in close on the couch and lay my head on his shoulder. I put my hand on his belly under his t-shirt. Now this Steve is tight. My fingers slide under the belt line but not far enough to reach what I hope is a developing hard-on.

Then I have an idea. "Let me model the bikini for you!"

"Sure!" he says, enthused.

I trot to my room and change. I keep my heels on and wrap a towel around me. I prance out in front of the couch, bite my finger coyly and give him my best I-want-to-screw look. I drop the towel.

He sits transfixed.

"If you're gonna wear that you may as well not wear anything."

"OK." I said.

I pull the long strings of the top and the side strings of the bottoms and let everything drop to the floor.

There I am, standing naked and in high heels. This is the reaction I want, the affirmation, the desire. In his arousal I get my first look of Steve's enormity. A perk I wasn't expecting. He gets up to fondle me. Steve puts a hand on my bottom and another cups my vagina. His middle finger sinks between sodden labia and lands exactly on my hooded nub of concentrated nerve endings. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull in for a fervent kiss. He only lightly and slowly passes his finger along the hood. I pull back from the kiss and suck in some air and let loose a little short 'hooh' showing approval. Sensation stirs and comforts me. This Steve knows how to participate.

It hasn't been that long that I could actually achieve an orgasm with a partner. I find it much easier now-a-days. If all the elements are in place, a partner with a healthy fun attitude, a beautiful countenance and a decent body then I am able to release any inhibitions, let them practice their technique and let the pleasure flow, from both of us.

Steve's finger is going to take me to that pleasure but I take his hand and say, "Show me the Porsche."

As we turn towards the garage I scoop up the towel but walk naked and uninhibited. This is going to be fun.

There it is, a 1975 Red Carrera convertible. I get wetter just looking from the top of the stairs into the garage. We take ten steps to the floor and a walk around the car. I caress the body as we stroll. Steve looks at me, well at my nakedness, with a "what now" look on his face.

I spread the towel on the hood toward the left fender. I turn, sit and spread my legs wide. I reach up and pull on Steve's belt towards me. I unbuckle, unbutton and unzip his jeans. I look up at Steve. He smiles as he palms one breast. The pants fall and I pull his underwear down. Holy mother of...

He is huge. Even without a complete erection. I believe when his enormous penis is in full hard-on he'll faint for lack of blood to the brain. I tickle the tuft of skin just below the head on the underside of the shaft. The erection becomes maximum and remarkably Steve doesn't faint.

"It scares some women."

"I understand why! Leave other women out of this. I'm your only one, tonight, and I'm intrigued, not scared."

I was scared.

I could wrap both my hands around the shaft with the head still protruding by several centimeters from my grip. "Big 10-inch Record" by Aerosmith enters my head and from then on doesn't leave (an ear-worm). I pump and twist with both hands awhile. I examine Steve's glans. It is narrow compared to the rest of the cock and sharply curved. It reminds me of the hood on a triceratops but without the horns of course.

Steve is as hard as can be. He places his hand on the back of my head. Despite his urging I am not quite ready for the next step. I dragged the tip of his penis across my chest and toggle my nipples with it. Steve's shaft was oval in cross-section, about 50-55 mm along the major axis. I'm not even going to guess on the length.

OK enough inspection. I tap my lips on the pointy tip of his cock a few times then I slide just part of the glans in several centimeters in. I don't think I can get the full width in. I never had so much. I think I'll play with it outside. I lift his cock up and run my tongue the length from balls to tip and insert in only as much as is comfortable.

I stand up from the Porsche and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. With his penis in my other hand, I start to rub my clit with it. I am masturbating with a cock I could be sitting on!

Looking a Steve it was clear he is enjoying this. I am working up a froth around my pussy with this cock. I am wet, his penis is wet, and my hand holding it is wet. If I'd been a foot taller I could have inserted him while standing but no worries we'll figure something out.

I don't know what possesses me but I straddle his cock and put it between my legs at pussy level. Then I squeeze and rock. I'm pretty sure Steve is enjoying it. It is kind of like screwing but without the insertion. You see it in pornos where boobs provide the groove rather than legs. I'm just trying something new.

After a short while I dismount and go back to using Steve's tool to masturbate. As I beat my clit with his cock my legs began to wobble. Steve put his hands under my armpits. Seconds later I come like a wave at Maverick's crashing on the rocks. My knees buckled but Steve holds me up as I keep up the furious pounding on my magic button.

As I calm down Steve lowers me gently back onto the Porsche. The orgasm still is pouring out, so I twitch for a few more moments.

I sit up and reach into my pumps and withdraw the slender square from Trojan. Steve saw it and said, "I usually don't go for those."

I returned, "It is the only way this is going to happen."

VD or AIDS was not on my mind in those days, though they should have been. I am not on the pill, so this was/is my requirement, period. No negotiations, especially, with myself.

I hadn't really thought about what size of condom would be needed but with a little effort it goes on in the proper fashion. There is, however, a good deal of the shaft uncovered.

I stand, turn and bend over. Putting my hands on the Porsche, Steve enters me standing, doggie style. It is tight but heavenly. He is huge and I can feel all of it, the ridges and vessels, but I am very slippery at this point and the condom is lubricated. My pliant orifice is relaxed by the departed orgasm. It is expanded to new diameters to accommodate the monster's incursion. There is some pain but it is overcome by pleasure.

Steve does not plunge in deep. He's done this before. He knows what havoc his member can sow. He only pushes in a few centimeters and then back. It is perfect and I have the feeling another big O is near (his) as he bends over me and cups my breasts. I am in another plane of existence when, suddenly, someone appears in the doorway. I am startled so much I pull off Steve's penis and flatten out on the Porsche. I thought for a moment it was his parents but quickly realize it is his buddy Brad who is joining us for the water skiing. I stand bringing the towel with and around me. Steve just stands with is pants down around his ankles.

Within a few seconds a girl joins the giggling Brad. Her name is Erica and as she stops next to Brad you could see she was staring squarely at Steve's dick.

"Holy fuck, look at that thing."

Brad rolls his eyes and says, "Sorry to interrupt, please continue."

He turns to leave but Erica holds his arm looks at me and says, "Can I watch?"

Steve shrugs. I spread the towel on the car again but this time I lie on my back, spread my legs and guide Steve's cock gently into me. It feels better from the front, maybe because I can see his tight belly, pecs and pretty face.

This is what I'm talking about. I am wanted. I am the focus of attention. Well, along with Steve. I am the show. It is a huge turn-on for this uninhibited woman. I can feel their stares.

Erica lifts off her t-shirt, her large dirty pillows, bouncing out as they are released. She orders Brad to play with her as she unzips & unbuckle her cut-offs.

Steve does not pound on me but smoothly pushes and draws his member. He goes in deep but not the full length of his cock. It feels wonderful, comfortable now, and fulfilling. I left my arms up "over" my head along the Porsche. I let my body slack and I just focus on the feeling. I don't help, I don't move, I let go, I just feel. Oh it is joyous. Steve holds me by my pelvis as he introduces and repeals. His attention is on my tits and his apparent mastery over me. I can't help but give little hoots with each push. I will come again, but not before Erica.

Unlike me, Erica is not an all-at-once type of girl. She starts her orgasmic opera slowly but persistently. Usually, I explode at the climax, while she on the other hand ramps up to the peak. It begins with soft murmurs & sighs then increases to an aural frenzied bellow. It stops altogether as the climax is reached and she exhales, relaxes, and her mouth just shivers as the ecstasy drains from her. Orgasms are as varied as how people laugh and just as uncontrollable. I can't keep it quiet. I just can't!

But we aren't there yet. Erica is somewhere between a bleat and a sigh. I turn my head towards her. She is staring at Steve or at me or both. I don't know which. I'm not sure what excites her. I, though, watch as her intensity grows. The show goes both ways. Brad had one breast in hand. The other bounces side-to-side as his bicep slaps it while his fingers twirl her clitoris.

Her shorts are now down around her knees. She reaches over and under Brad's hand and inserts two fingers into her own pussy. With that she comes. I immediately follow, then Steve. Like this morning I can feel the throbbing and the ejaculation despite the condom. Only I shriek, but we all writhe and twist together as the ecstasy courses through us.

Steve collapses on me and I hold his butt as the orgasms & cum pours out. He presses in, almost too hard. In moments we are still but for our breathing.

Erica has pulled her shorts up and is pulling down her shirt. Brad, unrequited, is still holding her.

"I want to fuck!" she declares.

And off they go. I know not where, but, apparently, to do so. I am still catching my breath as Steve regains his strength and stands. He offers a hand and I use it to help me up. I pick up the towel and wrapped it around me. Steve pulls up his pants without removing the condom, but leaves his shirt off. We head into the house.

I can hear Erica getting her wish and the now familiar climb to the sweet mystery of life. Steve covertly removes and disposes the latex prophylactic, then takes me on a tour of the rest of the house. I, still in the towel and heels, get to see his father's den, his little brother's room and his mom & dad's bedroom. These people are rich.

Once I see the master bathroom I am awestruck. The shower is a two nozzle affair, in a space of 3 meters square. It is larger than my whole bathroom. The shower heads face each other from opposite sides.

"I need a shower." I stated.

"Sure." Steve replies.

The towel drops, the heels are kicked off and Steve's pants fall again to the floor. Though flaccid, he was still huge.

Steve opens the stream from the west side head. We stand under the warm waterfall and cuddle for a long soothing time. Steve holds my butt and repositions his penis upright and pressed between us.