Ula by Candlelight

Gotta love a threesome -- here I am, stretched out underneath this gorgeous couple, under this wonderful fuck, soaking up for myself the sights, sounds and wonderful feeling of two warm bodies flushed with passion. As I lie there, the two of them are going at it right above me, hot, sweating, so alive, fucking on and on with my help and control It feels incredibly erotic.

Paul's right into it too. In a low voice he whispers into Loti's ear, sharing with her - and me - every explicit detail of what I'm doing to him, how it's me who holds their fucking in my hands, how he loves the feel of that, how he feels he can go all night -- Loti, beyond talk, moans ever more loudly; I wonder about neighbours, but realise the rain's still rattling down outside.

I'm sure some of her moaning's a tease, but hearing her sets me going anyway. I can't help but leave Paul's balls and take my hand, urgently, to my own aching pussy.

As for Loti, she suddenly changes gear on us all, her body tensing, her hips now pressing down on me in an urgent frenzy. The bed rocks momentarily as the two thrust as one for an instant, before the three of us are driven by a new, impatient rhythm very much Loti's own.

She's pushing back on Paul fast and hard. I've taken care, until now, to keep fingers clear of Loti's clit, but find myself thinking 'Hey girl, you're on fire, but let me turn up the heat some more'.

My arm's trapped under Loti's belly, but I'm able to draw my hand back, leaving her pussy, his dick, to their new tempo. I draw my sticky fingers together and start gently rubbing. Her moans take on a fresh and keener tone of anguished pleasure, telling me I've hit the spot.

I cup my hand, the better to keep up with her as she thrusts away. I press a little harder, move a little faster, until Loti's moans turn to cries, the real thing, I like to think. She and I are lying sandwiched together so close that, as every muscle in Loti's body tightens, I feel like I'm the one close to coming. Still they fuck, harder, faster - I hear Paul urging her on.

Looking across, a mirrored tableau shows me the warm glow of candlelight catching a glint of sweat on the dark brown skin of a heaving body that's layered between Paul's light tan and my own shadowed figure. There I lie, black hair, dark eyes shining out from underneath as, above me, the animal thrusting and humping of the couple drives on, unstoppable.

I can't take my eyes away... don't want to - that reflected frenzy almost other-worldly through the looking glass. Three familiar strangers - us, but not quite ourselves, immediate yet remote, untouchable even as they -- we -- grip one another ever more tightly. How quickly, easily, we've come to this, after so, so long.

I let myself in with the key Loti passed to me earlier this afternoon, at our pre-arranged rendezvous in a nearby mall. Paul, she told me, was off buying car parts -- quite the DIY mechanic, I know. Loti and Paul don't come to the city often, and me -- well, so far as Paul knows, I'm not even in the country.

The world having turned upside down, Loti and I have not met one another -- not been able to -- for what seems like an eternity. We spotted each other from way off, both hurrying through milling shoppers, both almost breaking into a run before coming together in the embrace of the closest of friends. Social distancing not; hugs, kisses and then arm in arm to find a place to sit.

Like most malls, the softer options were crowded with the familiar foot-weary matrons, disinterested men thumbing at tiny screens, and the inevitable young families with babies in strollers, toddlers, and their hyperactive older brothers and sisters. We politely asked an older woman if she could move her shopping from the only couch not completely taken. We squeezed on -- comfortable enough, but hardly private, and I was conscious of a rather frosty look from our neighbour.

With the delight of finally meeting again, so much to catch up on, and so little time to plan for the night ahead, we found ourselves talking non-stop. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the woman's look morph from frosty to plain disapproving -- I flicked my eyebrows to Loti, gestured imperceptibly, and we switched to stealth.

Gotta love "western society". People look at us, see what they want to see, and when they hear stealth, they tune out. 'Mother tongue', 'native language', our "lingo" -- nothing important they think, just a couple of brown bitches yabbering away. Well, this is who we are - the language of our mothers, our first language, the sound of home in our ears, on our tongue, no matter how far away we may be. And I tell you, how a girl can fly under the radar!

Yes; we sat and talked, joked and schemed. By the time we got up from that couch, the two of us had pretty much planned out, in explicit detail, what we had in mind for the night. As for our neighbour; so far as she knew, we could have been talking about last night's soap opera, or the week's supermarket frozen meat specials.

I recognise the airbnb from the website, detached, discreet, and spacious, just as advertised. Often travelling, Loti clearly has a good eye for quality accommodation. The front door gives on to a comfortable living area, a rather luxurious looking couch, set in front of a large screen TV and an exotic, dark purple rug laid between the two. It's not hard to figure where the name shagpile came from; I can imagine lying spread-eagled on that, for sure.

Loti and Paul checked in yesterday and they've spread themselves a little around the place, food and drink in the fridge, dishes drying on the sink bench, and other small signs of their stay.

Just the one bedroom, but the bed -- neatly made up by Loti this morning I guess - is enormous and when I throw myself down on to it, I smile - firm and silent, no matter how much I bounce up and down. I hate the distraction of a creaking, squeaking bed when I'm busy with other things, but no problem here. I pause, comfortable, and look around to take in my surroundings.

On the website I've seen something that intrigues me; across from the bed is a large, free standing, dressing mirror. As I lie back on the bed, it seems innocent enough, but I wonder..... I rouse myself, ease off the bed and move over to look more closely. Perhaps.... I turn and tilt the frame before resuming my position on the bed.

Slightly disappointing; possibilities here, but still not quite right. Back for minor adjustments, then up again on the bed. This time, as I lie there, a self-satisfied twin smiles back at me. She opens her legs wide, giving me a clear view of wispy pink silk panties. I reach down between my legs, as she does the same -- I feel sure she and I will be seeing a lot more of each other tonight.

And lighting? I haven't seen Loti in a while, but wow, she's been taking care of business over the past year or so; this afternoon she's been showing off some cosmetic enhancement I can't wait to get my hands on. All the same, at our time of life, we're at our very best with the lights down just a little.

So, I think; how do I do this? I close the drapes, and circle the room. I flick switches, move lamps, and -- ah... some thought gone into this room, I realise -- get to work with the dimmers. Finally I'm satisfied I have enough light, and in the right places, to show us, and our reflections, to full advantage; I turn to explore further.

Off to one side, a door gives on to an en-suite bathroom, tiled and elegant. A deep brilliant white bath and a walk in, dark tiled shower for two... or three. Oh yes, we girls are going to pamper ourselves in every way.

I've packed a bag for our couple of days' stay; having had a longish drive myself, I'm keen to freshen up. First things first, though - I have shopping to sort. Into the fridge with the wine -- not a lot, I tell myself, just enough to take the edge off for Loti and I; Paul, I remember, doesn't drink at all.

Next out of my shopping bag are the tealight candles; so many scents to choose from, but I've come away from the mall with six dozen assorted, and think we might start off, this evening, with french vanilla.

Around the bedroom it doesn't take long to spot the shelves and flat surfaces needed. I want to be sure we get the full effect without setting fire to anything in any frenzy that might develop. I carefully set out twenty or so squat round candles and place a box of matches strategically. 'Four to six hours,' I read -- too soon to light up just yet... I thrill at the thought of us even lasting that long -- you never know.

Last of all, dipping down into the bottom of the bag, I sort out fragrance mists from body wash. Loti and I have splashed out on scents together since we were teenagers, so I think we ought to take care of ourselves this weekend; I'm pretty sure we'll be hot and sweaty as the night develops.

I place the mists on the bedside drawers, alluring gold topped bottles of clear coloured liquids amber, rose, and turquoise, all ready when needed. As for the bodywash, I think I can put that to good use, so head to the bathroom with my selection.

I have the whole apartment to myself, and plenty of time to relax, so draw a bath and sprinkle in some salts from a nearby shelf. I strip quickly, pausing to look myself over in the bathroom mirror - gazing back at me, another framed, full length, picture of a woman -- a beautiful one, others tell me - poised for a night of passion.

Turning away, I step carefully into the bath, easing down into a froth of bubbles and warm water. Lying back, I let the hot tap slowly raise both the level and temperature of that silky smooth water. I feel my weight fall away as the water lifts me gently, steam rising lazily around me. Finally, I close the tap and in the silence that follows, lie there, half floating.

Idly, I gaze up at the whiteness above me; like the evening ahead, a blank canvas onto which Loti and I can conjure whatever picture we wish. Quietly, I lay aside those thoughts to reflect on our journey to this place, to this point in our lives.

We've known each other since we were both teenagers. I came to live with Loti and her family in my secondary school years, my parents seeing more opportunity for me in the 'big city'. Gosh, that was over 20 years ago.... where has the time flown?

Those were magic times. The two of us shared Loti's small bedroom and bed together; no, nothing sexual back then, the two of us too prim and proper. Just two young women on the edge of our adult lives, tucked away in what was really just a small town.

I don't think either of us knew quite what fate had in store for us, just how far across the world our lives would take us, what highs and lows were coming our way, and where, eventually each of us would come to rest.

Well... where Loti, at least, has come to rest, for she's devoted to Paul and he's been in the one place for most of his life. Paul and her three boys are her anchor -- that Loti has been able to travel so far and so often in recent years is really down to her work.

As for me, well, I don't see myself settling down with a man; I love kids to bits, but have never seen myself as a mother. We're all different, and for me, relationships are the ties that bind, and to be alone, to be independent, to be answerable to no-one -- that's truly the person I am.

Don't get me wrong; I'm a private person, but I'm no loner. And yes, I love getting laid - getting under a man, on top of a man, in fact, using a man in as many ways as a man might want to use me. But really, does anyone need the baggage that goes with commitment?

I swing the other way too, have eaten my fair share of pussy. I have to say, though, that going past the purely sexual, those women have been even more clingy, possessive and wanting than the men who've tried to tie me down.

Right now, I've pretty much found my perfect partner in Zeus, an intensely devoted, utterly selfless, two year old. And no, in case you're wondering; this dog is a woman's best friend and that's as far as it goes.

Which I guess, in a way, brings me to what I'm doing right here, this afternoon, soaking my cares away and looking forward to a night entwined with Loti and Paul, in whatever way they wish -- pleasure, passion and fun, and all without the baggage.

We've been a long time reaching this point. It was several years ago, Loti and I on a girls' trip away for a couple of weeks' sightseeing together. Even though our lives have taken us in very different directions, we've always kept in touch, and this was just the two of us with whole days to take in the scenery and simply talk, catch up and enjoy each other's company.

It was like old times; we stayed in the same room together, slept in the same bed -- and yes, by that time my tastes ran comfortably both ways and I wondered if Loti might be ready for a little girl on girl loving.

My chance came one evening -- the romance of Florence around us, a bottle of chianti emptied and a second one fast going the same way, when our sex lives came up for a discussion even more explicit than usual.

I remember Loti had just finished a rather hilarious account of Paul's commitment to meeting her sexual pleasure in ever more imaginative ways. Judging the moment right, I quietly owned up to an awesome night I'd had, myself, with a couple, just a few months earlier.

Loti almost choked on her drink -- she placed it heavily on the table as her eyes widened in amazement. I could see I had her attention. Her hand flew to her mouth in even greater astonishment, as I laughingly described what it was my friend and I had got down to, as her husband looked on -- the taste, the feel, the sight and the gorgeous soft yielding body of another woman.

Loti heard me out, stared at me in wonder, and after taking a little time to process what I'd told her, eventually asked "Oh wow.... really... honestly... you actually ate her pussy?" -- this with a look and tone of voice that told me we were way outside her own comfort zone. "Ah well" I remember thinking....no walk on the wild side here".

And that, really, was that; off to bed that night, both a bit tipsy -- a hug, a sisterly kiss, and there we were, best friends, but not with benefits of the sort I could have offered.

I'm not sure things would ever have changed between the two of us, each of us back home again, slipping easily into the old routine of long distance catch up by phone and social media every few weeks, Loti flying through from time to time.

Then, of course, the whole world went more than slightly crazy -- to the point we couldn't catch up in person even if we wanted to.

For me, the months that followed were difficult; I had seen myself slowly easing out of a relationship that, while great to begin with, had been stifling for some time. I thought I'd be moving on -- a new city, new job, and fresh chapter in life.

Instead, there I was locked down in place, feeling trapped and frustrated as weeks turned into months, my freedom ebbing and flowing as a virus took charge of pretty much everything and I could find solace only in my fridge and food cupboard.

Oh, I was envious of Loti; she'd found herself grounded at home with her family, exchanging air travel for zoom, in a place with none of the restrictions and none of the anxiety that was enveloping the rest of us.

That's not all; Paul, cunning dog, made her a bet she couldn't resist. As the months went by, her social media presence told of a journey marked by lycra and leotards, sweatbands and ever diminishing numbers on the screenshots of her bathroom scales, even as my own numbers were... well, steadily rising.

I'd found Loti attractive for a long time, but, wow, she'd not looked quite so delicious for years, winning Paul's wager handsomely and looking just so fuckable. So tantalising, but, well, unattainable.

Perhaps not surprisingly, I started fantasizing about the three of us together. Loti thinks Paul is hot, and while he's a bit on the old side, and needs a bit more muscle, by Loti's account, he can still go at it all night. Besides, if I had to crawl over him to get to her.... I was more than ready to fuck the two of them, and started to do exactly that in slow, unhurried fantasies of my own.

Gosh, it was a whole year ago now -- who knew how long this damn virus was going to pin us to the floor -- when Loti and I, at opposite ends of the country, sharing our wine and face time in the only way possible, found ourselves once again talking about sex.

As Loti told the story, by this time, she had pretty much turned into the sex goddess of Paul's dreams. She sipped at her wine, treating me to ever more vivid details of the when, where and how of their sex life together (did the two of them ever take a break?!). Jealously, I recognised an enthusiasm that, for me, was now to be found only when opening a fresh tub of ice cream or taking a frantic, tail-wagging dog into my arms. Yeah -- just pathetic, and believe me, that's not at all the sort of woman I am.

This time, the double take was mine -- what did she say? The sound dropped out at a critical instant, and Loti's features froze on screen. "Say again" I asked, scarcely believing what I thought I'd heard. And again; a frozen frame, jerky transitions and bleeding pixels, silence for long seconds and then a single disembodied word "threesome".

That's the trouble with video - it goes down at all the worst moments. It took two or three minutes before both the internet and the two of us settled down to the point that the intriguing news seeped through. Honestly, by the time I'd finished our chat, that was not the only thing seeping -- I hadn't felt so alive, or wet, in weeks.

Paul wanted a threesome; well, no news there -- what guy doesn't, just so long as it's two women in the bed. But here was quite a different Loti, offering casually her own thoughts; "Yeah, I think I'm up for it".

Oh... I might have been a little tipsy, and stuck a couple of thousand miles away, but this was just too good an opportunity to let slip. "Well, Loti, you know I'd be happy to help out, any time".

Loti's full-face image on the screen looked back at me, unblinkingly, then up into shot, came her glass. Waving it a little unsteadily towards me, she asked "Really, Ula... you'd do that with us?" I picked up my own, lifted it towards the screen in the toast of a bargain struck, before tipping it to my lips and drinking deep "It will be an honour, Loti".

By the time I rise from the bath, the soles of my feet, at least, are turning into prunes -- how I love a long soak; I even dozed off for a short while, dreaming erotic, disjointed cameos of brown bodies passionately writhing. I come to, abruptly, as I start to slip under the water -- a mouthful of foamy bubbles putting a sudden end to those particular fantasies.

Daylight is fading at the window - it's been angry and grey all afternoon anyway -. I've left my phone at the end of the bath and on checking, I find the time later than I expect. I feel a slight pang of anxiety but almost at once I spot a text from Loti with their expected arrival time. That reassures me I have time in hand. It also, cryptically, reminds me of how she wants us to greet our still unsuspecting partner for the night.

I'm not so sure about this. I'm a girl who likes a bit of planning in my life; my attempts to persuade Loti to tell Paul what we've arranged have been unsuccessful. What she's failed to realise is that she and I might have had time to reflect on the night to come -- but Paul... well, I sure hope he's a quick learner.

I slowly stand, drawing clear of the lukewarm water to reach out for one of the fluffy white towels. Knotting it tight under my armpits, I put aside all arousing thought and step out of the bath. Time for some action; I dry my feet on the bath mat before moving with purpose back to the bedroom to double check the logistics.