Sumitra Akshay Sam
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She smiled. If she only knew what that smile did to me. While the feelings it generated in me, drew me toward my self-appointed task, it also exacerbated my case of nerves. Would I really be able to do this?
"So how's Harry?" As soon as I said it, I felt stupid: so how's Harry. It seemed so lame once it was out of my mouth. And yet I knew that was just my own mind playing tricks on me.
"Oh fine," said Chris. I detected just a hint of confusion in her face. And I knew that despite my nerves I'd delivered my smile in just the right way.
"Oh, you didn't know I had a thing for your husband?" I said, responding to her facial expression rather than her words. I added just the right little laugh to make it all a joke.
"Harry?" she exclaimed, startled, but as I watched, her face relaxed into the kind of good humor the situation demanded.
I leaned closer and spoke confidentially: "Oh yes!" I said, trying to sound gushing. "He certainly helps me relax when I go to bed." I'd said it! A good part of me still couldn't believe I was actually doing this. "In fact, you'd be surprised at what I'd be open to..."
I'd trailed off. She stared at me, apparently not knowing what to make of this. That was all right: there wasn't any need for her to know for certain as yet. Even so, I was still nervous. After a brief moment, I reached out and briefly touched her shoulder.
And that was it. It was up to her now to figure it out. Did she think like that? God, I wanted her: the thought of being pressed between her body and Harry's... that is what really brought me off at night. I was careful not to touched her shoulder too soon: she couldn't be certain I hadn't been simply trying to mitigate my joking play at her husband with a little innocent friendly touch. But I was certain I'd at least put the thought in her head: that her best friend might well be open to a relationship with her.
Still, she sat there. My heart was racing and I wondered whether I was blushing noticeably.
Finally, she spoke: "That Brad was cute: too bad you two broke up: we could have tried swinging!"
Brad? I did my best to hide the stunned feeling that struck me. She went on, saying: "Hey, think you could, you know, just once invite him..."
"No!" I said, immediately feeling I'd said it too strongly. Geez, she must know I wasn't ready for anything to do with Brad at this point! I forced myself to be calm: this was still a very delicate situation. "I couldn't," I said, more in control.
"What about John? You said..." She stopped mid-sentence. When she did that, I realized my face must be revealing something of my thoughts. "I guess not," she added, looking in good humor.
Somehow I felt a little disappointed that she didn't know me better. I don't mean about my longings for her, which I'd always been very careful to hide, but about those guys. I'd told her about Brad's and my breakup! And about John: sure, he'd date me in a second, but she ought to know there's no way I would ever encourage him.
"I guess it's in our dreams," she said finally, smiling. I sat there, actually feeling some relief: she seemed happy enough with our little conversational venture, we'd manage to touch on the subject of some kind of sexual escapade, and while she hadn't appeared to pick up the possibility that I was interested in her, I had certainly succeeded in avoiding overdoing it: the one thing I absolutely did not want to do was to come on too strong.
But that night I cursed myself. All that effort and all I managed to get her to think about was a foursome: me with Harry and her with Brad! I couldn't stand it. It was obvious she could only think in terms of heterosexual couples. Unless she was too repressed to admit to any other impulse she might be feeling. God how I wanted her: what would she think if she knew? How I wanted to touch her, to kiss her body!
And my threesome idea: I'd figured it was just possible she'd be open to it if Harry was also involved--they were always so inseparable. The perfect couple. But now she was talking about, well, swapping! I couldn't stand it. She just had to figure this out: that they could have me without a fourth party. Would she think back over our conversation? And would the right idea cross her mind?
Oh, Harry was cute, yes. It would be fun to share him with Chris. And I'd even love seeing them together: I wondered what she looked like when he took her: when she lost all semblance of control. I'd kiss her. Kiss her while he was in her, while she was losing control of her breathing-- making her regain it to respond to my kiss. Harry inside her, me demanding her kiss--she'd belong to me, to us, that moment, body and soul. She'd do anything: suck on my nipple, swear to love me forever, promise me anything.
After that, would she recall it whenever we met? Maybe for a while? Let me touch her now and then? Look for my little touch? Kiss me? Kiss me for real if we were alone? Ask me for another threesome?
Oh yes, it would be so wonderful: I could be theirs. No jealousy: I could lie in bed between them and either could have me. Or both: I lie on my side with my back to Harry facing Chris. I could kiss her that way. Finger her at the same time. She could reach and help Harry enter me. They could crush me, hold each other's backs and squeeze me hard. We'd be sweaty but I wouldn't care: not that moment. And she'd kiss me while he took me. And I'd be hers as much as she was mine.
We'd go out together. We couldn't do anything in public, but we'd know. Would we be able to find a moment when we could playfully touch each other? That was what Brad liked: around the corner from everyone under the sun, a little grope as he called it. I'd complain like hell. But it wouldn't have to be so blatant. I could touch her cheek, briefly, lightly. Harry, right there, watching. Just a moment when no one else was close by.
I couldn't get the thoughts out of my mind. The days until we were at lunch again, I'd tortured myself incessantly: would she bring up our previous little conversation? Would she say anything?
She was definitely excited. "You were serious, weren't you?" she said. She was playing like she had to confirm it with me, but I could tell she already knew I was perfectly serious. "About being open to things?" she added.
I didn't answer. I'm sure I was blushing and she had her answer without my saying a single word. She smiled and I think she almost giggled. We were indeed on the same wavelength: that was clear. I was still nervous: what next?
"I found someone," she said.
I stared at her, trying to figure out what she meant. "What?" I asked, dumbly.
"Our fourth." Oh. "You were serious, weren't you?"
"Listen, Chris, I don't know..."
"Oh, don't worry: you'd still be with Harry. I swear you don't have to do anything with her, but I'll bet you'll like her."
I stared at her again, trying to figure out exactly what she was saying. And she went on, saying: "Didn't expect that, did you? You think I'm strange? Oh, look, here she is now!"
A woman sat down at our table. "Donna, this is Sheila, Sheila this is Donna," she said.
"Hi," I said, still feeling stunned, as this "Sheila" said her greetings. I stared at her: she looked a lot like Chris: long dark hair, a body, breasts that were, well, generous. She was so seductive-looking: men would be staring at her just like they did Chris.
"Isn't she pretty?" said Chris to me. To me! Chris looked like the cat that ate the canary!
My mind raced. Chris indeed liked women. Women such as Sheila: curvy and feminine. And me so flat: I cursed my body. I wondered how this could be happening. I managed a glance at the woman's chest. She was so feminine, if only I had a chest like that.
Chris had leaned toward me: "We've got to do this," she said confidentially. "I can't wait to... touch her. She knows I want her. It'll be good this way: Harry won't be so jealous."
What should I do? Chris was sure I wanted it with Harry. Because that's precisely what I'd told her. I had to follow through: what would be my objection? Would we be in the same room? Would I see Chris and Sheila... ?
"You know what?" said Sheila, suddenly. Chris looked at her. I still just sat there like an idiot. Sheila went on: "I think Donna had a different idea: I think she wanted you, Chris."
Neither of us answered. Sheila smiled. I could see that she was feeling perfectly confident in her pronouncement and I didn't know what to say. Then she went on: "Isn't that right, Donna?"
I remained dumbstruck. She giggled. "See?" she said. "She burns for you, Chris. You like Chris's body? Her breasts?" I needed to disappear into thin air. I couldn't handle this. "Listen: let's split," she said.
She ended up paying for our coffee and we didn't even order lunch. I felt like I was in a daze, following them. Sheila led us to the back seat of Chris's car. It was cramped, but they sat on each side of me and slid down so their bodies were below window-level. Sheila opened her blouse. "Ever had a woman?" she asked me.
"No," I said. I was kneeling backward on the seat between them. Sheila nudged Chris. Chris opened her own blouse.
"Touch me," said Sheila, to me. She pulled my hand to her breast.
My hand, on her breast. It was so soft, just how I imagined it would be, touching a woman like that. "Like it?" she said. She took my head in her hands and pulled me down. My lips touched her nipple, but she still pulled. "You do like it. You've had the hots for Chris and she didn't see it! Suck."
They'd leaned together and I think they touched. I sucked and couldn't see what else was happening. I felt fingers at my waistband, in my pants. "Look how wet she's getting," said Sheila. I kept sucking.
"Just a minute: we need somewhere to go," said Sheila finally.
Sheila dealt with the desk and came out with the key. What did they think of us? Had they seen us two, waiting in the car?
The room wasn't much. The two of them had the covers off the bed in seconds. Then we were all naked. Chris watched while Sheila pulled me to her breast. Sheila was the only one of us who spoke: "Nice licking: keep sucking." I obeyed. She went on: "See how Donna does it Chris? Look at her watching you while she does it: I'll bet she'd love to lick you."
She didn't stop talking. "Do you like to be licked, Chris?" I was sucking, but I could tell she was talking to Chris. "I'll bet you do. Look: she'd do you in a second: she's begging to do it. Should we let her?"
She leaned a little closer to me, and spoke quietly just to me: "If you want us to consider it, get yourself hot: we want to see you hot: touch yourself some more. Ah, yes. You want Chris to lick you? I'll give you a choice: let her do it, or... you can suck on my breasts some more. Would you like that?"
She went on, talking to Chris again: "Look at her: she's my little baby...I'll bet you'd like to suck like that too...but I want to see you make yourself come. Oh, she likes it so much."
Then to me: "I'll bet you wish you could suck Chris's breasts just like this. Well I want to see you suck cock--he'll be here soon, don't worry. You'll do that for me, won't you? Of course: you won't be able to help yourself when I ask, will you? Don't come yet: I want to see you come when he fucks you. She told me he's good: you'll be totally out of control. She'll be licking me while I watch. Maybe we'll have you do everything. Ever been fucked in the ass? Touch yourself while he's doing that and you'll be higher than a kite. Oh, I think she'd like to see that, but she'll be doing her job..."
"So how's Harry?" As soon as I said it, I felt stupid: so how's Harry. It seemed so lame once it was out of my mouth. And yet I knew that was just my own mind playing tricks on me.
"Oh fine," said Chris. I detected just a hint of confusion in her face. And I knew that despite my nerves I'd delivered my smile in just the right way.
"Oh, you didn't know I had a thing for your husband?" I said, responding to her facial expression rather than her words. I added just the right little laugh to make it all a joke.
"Harry?" she exclaimed, startled, but as I watched, her face relaxed into the kind of good humor the situation demanded.
I leaned closer and spoke confidentially: "Oh yes!" I said, trying to sound gushing. "He certainly helps me relax when I go to bed." I'd said it! A good part of me still couldn't believe I was actually doing this. "In fact, you'd be surprised at what I'd be open to..."
I'd trailed off. She stared at me, apparently not knowing what to make of this. That was all right: there wasn't any need for her to know for certain as yet. Even so, I was still nervous. After a brief moment, I reached out and briefly touched her shoulder.
And that was it. It was up to her now to figure it out. Did she think like that? God, I wanted her: the thought of being pressed between her body and Harry's... that is what really brought me off at night. I was careful not to touched her shoulder too soon: she couldn't be certain I hadn't been simply trying to mitigate my joking play at her husband with a little innocent friendly touch. But I was certain I'd at least put the thought in her head: that her best friend might well be open to a relationship with her.
Still, she sat there. My heart was racing and I wondered whether I was blushing noticeably.
Finally, she spoke: "That Brad was cute: too bad you two broke up: we could have tried swinging!"
Brad? I did my best to hide the stunned feeling that struck me. She went on, saying: "Hey, think you could, you know, just once invite him..."
"No!" I said, immediately feeling I'd said it too strongly. Geez, she must know I wasn't ready for anything to do with Brad at this point! I forced myself to be calm: this was still a very delicate situation. "I couldn't," I said, more in control.
"What about John? You said..." She stopped mid-sentence. When she did that, I realized my face must be revealing something of my thoughts. "I guess not," she added, looking in good humor.
Somehow I felt a little disappointed that she didn't know me better. I don't mean about my longings for her, which I'd always been very careful to hide, but about those guys. I'd told her about Brad's and my breakup! And about John: sure, he'd date me in a second, but she ought to know there's no way I would ever encourage him.
"I guess it's in our dreams," she said finally, smiling. I sat there, actually feeling some relief: she seemed happy enough with our little conversational venture, we'd manage to touch on the subject of some kind of sexual escapade, and while she hadn't appeared to pick up the possibility that I was interested in her, I had certainly succeeded in avoiding overdoing it: the one thing I absolutely did not want to do was to come on too strong.
But that night I cursed myself. All that effort and all I managed to get her to think about was a foursome: me with Harry and her with Brad! I couldn't stand it. It was obvious she could only think in terms of heterosexual couples. Unless she was too repressed to admit to any other impulse she might be feeling. God how I wanted her: what would she think if she knew? How I wanted to touch her, to kiss her body!
And my threesome idea: I'd figured it was just possible she'd be open to it if Harry was also involved--they were always so inseparable. The perfect couple. But now she was talking about, well, swapping! I couldn't stand it. She just had to figure this out: that they could have me without a fourth party. Would she think back over our conversation? And would the right idea cross her mind?
Oh, Harry was cute, yes. It would be fun to share him with Chris. And I'd even love seeing them together: I wondered what she looked like when he took her: when she lost all semblance of control. I'd kiss her. Kiss her while he was in her, while she was losing control of her breathing-- making her regain it to respond to my kiss. Harry inside her, me demanding her kiss--she'd belong to me, to us, that moment, body and soul. She'd do anything: suck on my nipple, swear to love me forever, promise me anything.
After that, would she recall it whenever we met? Maybe for a while? Let me touch her now and then? Look for my little touch? Kiss me? Kiss me for real if we were alone? Ask me for another threesome?
Oh yes, it would be so wonderful: I could be theirs. No jealousy: I could lie in bed between them and either could have me. Or both: I lie on my side with my back to Harry facing Chris. I could kiss her that way. Finger her at the same time. She could reach and help Harry enter me. They could crush me, hold each other's backs and squeeze me hard. We'd be sweaty but I wouldn't care: not that moment. And she'd kiss me while he took me. And I'd be hers as much as she was mine.
We'd go out together. We couldn't do anything in public, but we'd know. Would we be able to find a moment when we could playfully touch each other? That was what Brad liked: around the corner from everyone under the sun, a little grope as he called it. I'd complain like hell. But it wouldn't have to be so blatant. I could touch her cheek, briefly, lightly. Harry, right there, watching. Just a moment when no one else was close by.
I couldn't get the thoughts out of my mind. The days until we were at lunch again, I'd tortured myself incessantly: would she bring up our previous little conversation? Would she say anything?
She was definitely excited. "You were serious, weren't you?" she said. She was playing like she had to confirm it with me, but I could tell she already knew I was perfectly serious. "About being open to things?" she added.
I didn't answer. I'm sure I was blushing and she had her answer without my saying a single word. She smiled and I think she almost giggled. We were indeed on the same wavelength: that was clear. I was still nervous: what next?
"I found someone," she said.
I stared at her, trying to figure out what she meant. "What?" I asked, dumbly.
"Our fourth." Oh. "You were serious, weren't you?"
"Listen, Chris, I don't know..."
"Oh, don't worry: you'd still be with Harry. I swear you don't have to do anything with her, but I'll bet you'll like her."
I stared at her again, trying to figure out exactly what she was saying. And she went on, saying: "Didn't expect that, did you? You think I'm strange? Oh, look, here she is now!"
A woman sat down at our table. "Donna, this is Sheila, Sheila this is Donna," she said.
"Hi," I said, still feeling stunned, as this "Sheila" said her greetings. I stared at her: she looked a lot like Chris: long dark hair, a body, breasts that were, well, generous. She was so seductive-looking: men would be staring at her just like they did Chris.
"Isn't she pretty?" said Chris to me. To me! Chris looked like the cat that ate the canary!
My mind raced. Chris indeed liked women. Women such as Sheila: curvy and feminine. And me so flat: I cursed my body. I wondered how this could be happening. I managed a glance at the woman's chest. She was so feminine, if only I had a chest like that.
Chris had leaned toward me: "We've got to do this," she said confidentially. "I can't wait to... touch her. She knows I want her. It'll be good this way: Harry won't be so jealous."
What should I do? Chris was sure I wanted it with Harry. Because that's precisely what I'd told her. I had to follow through: what would be my objection? Would we be in the same room? Would I see Chris and Sheila... ?
"You know what?" said Sheila, suddenly. Chris looked at her. I still just sat there like an idiot. Sheila went on: "I think Donna had a different idea: I think she wanted you, Chris."
Neither of us answered. Sheila smiled. I could see that she was feeling perfectly confident in her pronouncement and I didn't know what to say. Then she went on: "Isn't that right, Donna?"
I remained dumbstruck. She giggled. "See?" she said. "She burns for you, Chris. You like Chris's body? Her breasts?" I needed to disappear into thin air. I couldn't handle this. "Listen: let's split," she said.
She ended up paying for our coffee and we didn't even order lunch. I felt like I was in a daze, following them. Sheila led us to the back seat of Chris's car. It was cramped, but they sat on each side of me and slid down so their bodies were below window-level. Sheila opened her blouse. "Ever had a woman?" she asked me.
"No," I said. I was kneeling backward on the seat between them. Sheila nudged Chris. Chris opened her own blouse.
"Touch me," said Sheila, to me. She pulled my hand to her breast.
My hand, on her breast. It was so soft, just how I imagined it would be, touching a woman like that. "Like it?" she said. She took my head in her hands and pulled me down. My lips touched her nipple, but she still pulled. "You do like it. You've had the hots for Chris and she didn't see it! Suck."
They'd leaned together and I think they touched. I sucked and couldn't see what else was happening. I felt fingers at my waistband, in my pants. "Look how wet she's getting," said Sheila. I kept sucking.
"Just a minute: we need somewhere to go," said Sheila finally.
Sheila dealt with the desk and came out with the key. What did they think of us? Had they seen us two, waiting in the car?
The room wasn't much. The two of them had the covers off the bed in seconds. Then we were all naked. Chris watched while Sheila pulled me to her breast. Sheila was the only one of us who spoke: "Nice licking: keep sucking." I obeyed. She went on: "See how Donna does it Chris? Look at her watching you while she does it: I'll bet she'd love to lick you."
She didn't stop talking. "Do you like to be licked, Chris?" I was sucking, but I could tell she was talking to Chris. "I'll bet you do. Look: she'd do you in a second: she's begging to do it. Should we let her?"
She leaned a little closer to me, and spoke quietly just to me: "If you want us to consider it, get yourself hot: we want to see you hot: touch yourself some more. Ah, yes. You want Chris to lick you? I'll give you a choice: let her do it, or... you can suck on my breasts some more. Would you like that?"
She went on, talking to Chris again: "Look at her: she's my little baby...I'll bet you'd like to suck like that too...but I want to see you make yourself come. Oh, she likes it so much."
Then to me: "I'll bet you wish you could suck Chris's breasts just like this. Well I want to see you suck cock--he'll be here soon, don't worry. You'll do that for me, won't you? Of course: you won't be able to help yourself when I ask, will you? Don't come yet: I want to see you come when he fucks you. She told me he's good: you'll be totally out of control. She'll be licking me while I watch. Maybe we'll have you do everything. Ever been fucked in the ass? Touch yourself while he's doing that and you'll be higher than a kite. Oh, I think she'd like to see that, but she'll be doing her job..."
Cheryl
- 26.03.2020
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