Tag Archives: threesome

The void

Strangely, the last few months have been a libidinal void. I’m not sure what happened. I suppose I was busy working, the husband was around all the time, geographically distanced from all my lovers and no time to meet new ones. Perhaps my London lover odyssey exhausted me. Perhaps I just needed to recharge. But I’ve been searching for that elusive tingle, that excitement, that feeling of standing on the edge. And so, returning to the scene of many crimes, I find myself in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. A city I left over a year ago, still tingling and raw from my first threesome with the American and Frenchman. A city full of memories – the gardener, the Italian, Eton boy and other late night fumblings.

Last night I saw the gardener again and I felt something begin to thaw behind my eyes. It was a dinner, another friend was there, so no chance to be alone. Looking at his tanned skin and lean muscles I could sense a distant, yet familiar sensation, a sort of light-heartedness. We chatted and laughed over wonderful food, hands brushing occasionally as we both reached for our glasses, knees touching under the table. Then, walking home again, we lagged a few paces behind my friend and I felt his hand reach for mine. It sent a little jolt through me. Perhaps it is the shock I need to wake me from my numbness, to pull me out of this void. I want to feel alive again.

Leave a comment

Filed under General

The secret hours

Perhaps it was all that coffee yesterday, or my pent up frustrations after the German lawyer on Friday night. Whatever it is, I am awake at 5:30 on a Sunday morning. Wide awake. It is dark and still, just the gentle sound of a clock ticking. These are magical hours. The early hours when most people lie fast asleep, the city streets are empty. These are the hours you usually only see after being out all night, picking your way, bleary eyed, through the disheveled streets towards your bed. The hours when the secrets of the night before are laid to rest.

It was this time of the morning about a year ago in a far off place, that I stood, naked in my flat and watched as the Frenchman shut the door behind him. The American was already in the taxi outside. I could hear the Diesel engine through the open window. Then the sound of a car door slamming shut and they were gone. The chill of the dawn made me shiver and I climbed back into bed, hiding under the covers, my mind racing with images of the previous night.

It had started after the usual Thursday evening lecture. We went to the pub, others followed and before long we were a large group. I wore a pencil skirt and red tights (not stockings). The evening was entertaining, a lot of talk, discussion about the lecture, plans for the Easter vacation. It was my last lecture. I was leaving the country in 2 days time, to start a new life in a new country. The removal men had been the day before and my flat was empty, aside from the furniture it came with.

We were introduced, the American and I. His brother introduced us. His brother did all the talking. He looked on, smiled occasionally, but did not engage in the conversation directly. He was tall, curly brown hair and a beard. Striking blue eyes. A lawyer, apparently. He didn’t look like the other people there – all students and artists. I had met the Frenchman a few days before at the cinema, with his girlfriend. We had shared a drink after the film, a mutual friend had introduced us. He had a short, slight build and blond, floppy hair. He smoked cigarillos.

The evening progressed and a lot was drunk. I was being pursued by an older Austrian with a crazy moustache, the kind that curls up at the corners. As the pub closed I managed to escape the clutches of my unwanted pursuer and the Frenchman and American offered to walk me home. I accepted gratefully, fearing the Austrian would follow me home. We walked and chatted, arriving at my door. I invited them in for a nightcap, thinking nothing of it. I was used to entertaining people after closing time, as my flat was in the centre of town.

They came in, we opened a bottle of wine and I made some late night snacks. We sat by the open window, smoking and talking, accompanied by music. At one point, I went to the kitchen to get some more wine and when I returned the Frenchman said:

“We’ve been talking and we’d both like to sleep with you.”

I told them I was married (they already knew this from earlier conversations).

“That’s ok, we’re both in relationships too.”

It came as such a surprise. I really hadn’t expected anything to happen. I laughed and just nodded. The Frenchman put out his cigarillo and they both stood up. The American began to kiss my neck, the Frenchman ran his hands over my hips and ass. The butterflies in my stomach danced higher than ever before. Somehow, we moved, no, we floated from the living room into the bedroom next door. I don’t even know how it was physically possible, but whilst being kissed and stroked and pirouetted towards the bed, one of them had removed my shoes, another my top and then my skirt. Even my tights seemed to come off with ease. I just remember thinking “why didn’t I wear stockings! I usually do.”

They lay me down on the bed and undressed themselves. Now we were three people, naked in an empty flat, the music had stopped and the stillness of the night enveloped us all. The American knelt before me, his huge cock erect as he parted my thighs and entered me. It was the most delicious of penetrations. He was strong, lean and confident. The Frenchman stood beside me and watched. I leant over to take his (somewhat small) cock in my mouth. Writhing on the bed feeling two cocks inside me, I could hardly believe what was happening. They took it in turns to watch as one of them fucked me. I held eye contact with the one watching whilst being taken by the other. The American was virile and kept going and going. I can still feel him now, if I close my eyes.

The night was so surreal. It was very late and after a number of hours of fucking and watching they called a cab and left me standing naked in the hallway. Sometimes I wonder if it really happened. But then I close my eyes and feel the American hard inside me, the Frenchman looking down smoking his cigarillo.

It was my first threesome and it took about two weeks before I could close my eyes without flashes of that night flickering across my eyelids. They were secret hours. A secret I have now shared with you.

3 Comments

Filed under flings

The roll call

OK, so let me give you a list of the lovers, flings and flirts so far. I like to give them pseudonyms to help describe them. This is not necessarily in chronological order, that will become clear in later posts. Some are still ‘active’ relationships, others just wonderful memories. I will detail each one in separate posts. Post Script: As I write, I realise that I cannot remember them all. I will continue to update this list as and when I remember them 🙂

Lovers

  • The first one – it started with a flirtatious IM chat. He was married and based in the Paris office, we had cybersex over a number of months and then we met in person…
  • The original lover – we met at work. We fucked on our first night. Then we did it again and again. It was an incredibly hot summer. He would cook for me and I think I fell in love with him. Then his wife gave birth and his time ran out.
  • The gardener – we met in a bar. He was a gardener (single) and had an incredible body. We had a summer of fucking. Even his leg in a cast did not stop us from trying every position in the book.
  • The older lover – he is married with three children. We met at work. Sex with him is the most sensual and fulfilling experience I have had. I crave him, his scent, his touch.
  • The Italian – we met on an Easyjet flight. He is married. We talked all the way, exchanged numbers. Our IMs became sexually explicit, we met in person and the affair started. We have had two secret trips to Scotland together. Despite his intellect, he does not satisfy on the sexual front.
  • The economist – we met in a crazy drunken haze, he is single and delicious. Our affair is very secret, we hide it from mutual friends. He is my muse.

Flings

  • The horny American – we met in an evening class. He was single and made me laugh. We would go for drinks after the class, one thing led to another and he came back to mine. Sex with him was so carnal, I loved it.
  • Eton boy – I find him fascinating, a mystery. He keeps himself to himself. Physically so opposite. There was the one night stand and now he dates my friend. But he continues to fascinate.
  • The French-American duo – my first threesome. What more can I say?
  • The German lawyer – we met in a bar. We went on a date. We fucked. Still work in progress.
  • The tall one – we met at work. We had a few nights of kissing, fondling. Then he came to visit me abroad. We had a one night stand. He couldn’t get it up, so he fucked me with a dildo instead. He’s getting married, but still carries a flame for me.
  • The guilty Catholic – a funny guy, made me laugh. Outrageous flirt and one night we did it. The sex was quite aggressive, not great and then he was overcome with his Catholic guilt.

Flirts

  • The lecherous boss – he was my boss. We went to Paris on business, he came onto me. We had a few dinners, kisses, then he fingered me in the office, late one night. He had stalker qualities and I moved on. He hasn’t given up yet.
  • The Irish pixie – we met in a bar, some kissing and petting was involved. I know he wants to fuck me, but he is too risky.
  • The strange South African – we met at an exhibition. There was a connection, a sparkle, a kiss. Then he came to visit me abroad and it changed. He was strange and ever so slightly scary.
  • The female friend – it was my own fault. One too many whiskeys and I said I liked her. There was a kiss and much ‘serious’ talk. She fell in love and I did my best to avoid another kiss.
  • The cute barman – he works in a bar and is a PhD student. We met and flirted. Now we talk on FB – he tells me things about himself, I listen. He’s a male slut, so will remain a flirt. If anything were to happen between us, the challenge would be gone.

5 Comments

Filed under General, Roll call