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Anna Koning

Get a F*cking Life

LITE

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Copyright 2017 by Anne Koning

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Author’s note: All characters depicted in this book are 18 years of age or older.

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The weekend arrived.

I was checking my make-up in the mirror in the hall of the apartment, delighted, not for the first time, with my own look. Being 5’7", slim, with long dark blond hair, big green eyes, nice ‘B’ pair, quite a curvy waist for such a slim body, and a great smile with a pair of dimples, I was aware very well of my advantages.

"So, big night, huh?" Pola, my roommate, asked, coming out of her room, holding a bowl with some salad in one hand and a fork in the other.

"Yeah," I said, making some last improvements. "How do I look?" I asked, only to hear what I had already known. "Stunning," she responded calmly.

"Okay!" I smiled.

"You are in a good mood. Justine got you into something, huh?" Her eyes blinked.

I snorted. "You think? Maybe I lured her into my own game?" I cocked my eyebrow, after a second adding "…yeah, she is quite something, isn’t she?"

"Well, yeah… she’s trying to be happy. She’s got her own way."

"Trying? Don’t you think she is?"

"Maybe." Pola was always peaceful and conflict-free to an almost inhuman extent.

She also liked to speak in her little riddles. So after a while, she added in this manner, "But you must take care of her too, as much as she is taking care of you. She hasn’t worked everything out. You know, sometimes it’s better to be not sure than always sure?" She was waving the fork in the air. I barely listened to her; my mind was somewhere else.

"Okay, Pola. I’ll try to look after her too. Bye!"

"Bye. Annie. Have a great night." She said taking another bite of her salad.

What Pola had said was absolutely true, it was Justine who was getting me into something new. Not the other way around. We would meet some guys and it should end up in bed. The rebound sex, I had never tried it before.

For the first time in a long time, I had butterflies in my stomach; I squealed happily going down the stairs. I wasn’t sure yet why; the unknown was simply exciting; wide possibilities were exciting.

I met with Justine outside the apartment building where she lived.

I was wearing tight blue jeans with a belt, high heels, matching dark blue lace underwear and a white tank-top. Justine got dressed up similarly. Only she had a black tank-top and (as I found out later) black lace underwear, but as opposed to me—a staunch fan of regular lace panties—she wore g-strings under which she preferred no-hair policy when I liked to have a little, tasteful, shortly-trimmed strip.

We went to our favorite place. I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt so free, it was so long I needed to accustom to this.

During dancing, I sensed a hard-on of some guy who was behind me; he was rubbing it on my bum, yet not too aggressive, almost as if it were by accident. That was quite a typical situation, but now—as I was contently reminding myself that I was allowed to do so—that was why I didn’t stop him, I just didn’t encourage this. I could agree to believe in such an ‘accident’.

Later, to my big surprise, I met there a guy I had been dancing with in the same place, the same night when my—now ex-—boyfriend, Paul, and I had broken up. His name was Andre. The fight with Paul had started partially because I had been dancing with him.

When I saw him, I smiled immediately, and he began dancing around me. Obviously I didn’t blame him for what had happened; still, I couldn’t shake off the feeling it was some kind of fate as if it were …a plan.

Meanwhile, he spoke softly in my ear, "I know you."

"I think I know you too." I half-smiled.

"So you came back. To me."

"To you? Oh, I’m not so sure", I frowned slightly. "I just came back. For some fun."

"Fun, huh?" and he smiled mischievously, "nice outfit by the way. As always."

"As always? Second time," I thought. "Okay, so, is this the guy I want to have fun with?" He was cocky, at the same time he was quite charming—the type I knew very well I should keep aloof from, except dancing. But maybe… "Is this the type of a prick J. would have recommended me?".

We danced. I didn’t know whether it was him or me, or Justine’s speeches, but it didn’t bother me at all. I was nervous but to an acceptable extent, I was flushing, but it couldn’t be seen in this light. I felt a bit dirty, but I was enjoying it. I was repeating in my mind that I was free. Free. Free. I wondered how much I was still pissed off; how much, subconsciously, I was trying to get revenge; or perhaps something had switched in me already. Body without soul—now I truly appreciated him just as a picture: the guy was muscular, but slim, tanned, with a little bit longer, dark, straight hair. He looked more gentle than Matt, but definitely, there wasn’t much sweetness in him either. Although they had two different carnations, it seemed there was some physical resemblance between them: their silhouettes, their faces features. Now I wasn’t thinking of him as a creep at all, but maybe such a label had more to do with the appearance, not the real behavior, than I had always thought.

Andre started to pick up steam on the dance floor, showing me everything he had in his repertoire. We were having fun. Just after he moved away a bit in a dance fever, some guy—another common type: slightly too intrusive club idiot—slipped in between us and tried to impress me with his hyped-up moves: too much of swaggering, too much of a suntan, not matching his complexion, and too many drinks probably, maybe something else too. I gave him a cold expression and turned around, fearing that Andre, in his dance fervor, was already gone, around some other girl. This idiot guy didn’t mind my negative reactions. This was the type of personality: when fueled by alcohol they just simply refuse to understand words and expressions they don’t want to hear or see. I felt he got two inches too far into my private space; it was unnerving me. But then Andre came back, apparently after few pirouettes—the whole thing had lasted maybe fifteen seconds, but I had managed to get worried and pissed in this time. I turned around, and Andre got between the guy and me, with a protective posture, but still dancing; the other guy seemed upset. "Are they gonna fight now with each other?" That wasn’t the way I wanted this evening to evolve. Andre said something to him in his ear, some short sentence, I couldn’t hear what. The expression on the other guy’s face changed flat out. He hesitated for a second and said something too, trying to smile, but this wasn’t convincing; he got scared. Andre said something else, another short sentence I couldn’t hear, and the guy was gone immediately. Smooth, fast, without violence. Impressive. We got back to dancing together, now closer than before.

So I found someone to have fun with, but still, even if it was only rubbing my bum gently on his crotch while dancing. "This I can do", I thought, smiling and moving temptingly, with him behind me.

At some point, he told me, "You’ve got some awesome moves. Are you a dancer?"

"No." I laughed, "Is this your pick-up line? Asking girls whether they are dancers?"

"Usually yeah, but this time I can say it honestly", he smiled back, "You’ve definitely got some training."

"Yeah, I learned a few steps when I was young. But it didn’t turn into anything serious. I like to do it just for fun." The word ‘training’ rang in my mind for a few seconds; it seemed as if he had said it in a suggestive way; or it was my imagination flaming uncontrollably since my ass still felt this phantom imprint of his nob.

"You’re good at this. I think it was more than just a few steps." He stared into my eyes. I thought about J.’s words: "Have high expectations only in a few aspects. In others? Don’t have any." And at this moment I realized it wasn’t about what he was saying, but how he said it, and about gestures, and the whole body language; that was it. I could—at least partially—filter out his words—contents had barely any significance—and focus on the form; and the form was very good.

"I see you are the specialist. Are YOU a dancer? Or some kind of an instructor?" I was teasing him.

"No. I’m just a passionate. Same as you. I had some lessons when I was young. And I can appreciate a good dancer."

We danced at some point to ‘Get Lucky’, which made me giggle a bit and he giggled too with me, not knowing the exact reason, or maybe he knew it already very well.

Next, we shot the breeze for a while: about the club, about the dance. Then I left him for a minute. I told him I would definitely be back. I got to the bar, where Justine was sipping something that looked like a Mojito.

I pointed him out. "Do you know him maybe?"

She looked at him with a surprised expression, "Uhm, do I know him? No. No. I… don’t." She smiled, swallowing a big gulp of her drink. Her face turned a little bit red. Perhaps she was astonished that I managed to catch somebody so fast.

"I met him here the last time. Odd, isn’t it?"

"No. Why?"

"I’m just surprised. But he is cute, isn’t he?"

"Yeah, he is nice." She didn’t seem convinced yet.

He was still dancing, and we watched him for a while. I told J. what he had said to me the last time. J. started smiling again.

"So? Let’s go to him!" She gave me a nudge.

"Yeah? Do you think we can play with him? Did you scan him already?" I was giggling.

"I scanned you… you fancy him." Her eyebrows went up and down, "So let’s give it a try. I’ve got a good feeling. Maybe …we both end up in bed with him?"

First, I opened my mouth in shock "So, threesome IS on the table. WOW." After a second I resumed more happily, "So! My methods aren’t so bad after all, huh?" My pulse raced.

"I didn’t say so. We’re gonna spend some time with him. It could be fun. We’ll see." She was waving her drink while talking.

"Do you mean it? Can you …go to bed with him?" And then I added in a lower voice, "In three? And what about your, um, theory?"

She smiled, "I didn’t say yes, yet. I just have a good feeling about him. He qualifies… for now. Try to relax."

"Huh, relax. Okay, now I’m starting to get really nervous."

"Easy! C’mon! Let’s talk to him. I think I can tell whether he’s good for us or not." She finished her drink and took me by the hand. We went to him together. I wanted to ask her, "How? How can you tell? How can you do it better than me?"

They introduced themselves to each other, it looked quite ridiculous, probably because she had already known what she wanted to do, and maybe he knew it too, sensed it somehow. And they both seemed slightly embarrassed at first while gazing at each other. Even Justine was blushing; I felt maybe my blushing wasn’t so bad after all if such "professionals" could have such a problem.

And then we talked a little among us. It was going astonishingly smoothly. Justine got her confidence together fast; now I was again the shy one.

Eventually, we danced as a threesome. Music had changed, now it was much more aggressive; it fitted. Justine started to nimbly wriggle in almost indecent—still, with great style—slowly, way around him. I tried to mimic her, except being more subtle and giggling because of my nervousness. And he began tenderly touching our waists, after a while also our bums; it was on the verge of lewdness; but—deftly—without crossing this very last, thin line. I gave him another point. Then I caught the sight of some guys following us. A combination of shame and pride hit me; I smiled gently in their direction.

After a while, we got another round of drinks and sat at the table. Andre was peeking at Justine from time to time with this half-smile, different from the one he had while looking at me, the one for J. seemed more coy. This concerned me: perhaps she was more of his type, after all, she was the perverted one, and she was giving this vibe. I told myself that it was only some meaningless trifles growing into suggestive theories.

We commented on other people's dancing skills, laughing at some guys on the dance floor. They, apparently, weren’t feeling very comfortable in their own skins; there was always some percentage of such people in places like this. Maybe someone told them that without dancing they would never meet a girl, but the thing they were doing wasn’t going to work either; maybe only out of some colossal pity. I picked up on another similarity between Matt and Andre; they had a lot of disdain for others. "Is this Justine’s main criterion? Picking out bullies? Can this be her recipe for a good lover? The whole secret? No, well, this can’t be the only thing."

I was surprised how quickly J. and Andre got along, while I was still quite uptight and distant. It made me wonder; my mind drifted away for a minute. I thought about those poor dudes on the parquet. I felt bad; they were probably nice guys, definitely nicer than Andre. The best they could get from us was disregard. And the most pitying person there was me apparently, and I wasn’t definitely devoting myself to a good cause. After this, I recollected J.’s words one more time. Maybe she was right, and I was too good. Why should my conscience have been even bothered with those losers? They were actually spoiling my time. I gazed at Andre. He was a hunk, but there wasn’t—now I was sure of it—much niceness in him. He was a player. But such guys have this something the others don’t, and vice versa. I always thought there had to be a combination of these two. An ideal. And what? My ex, Paul!? Hah! Now I was mad at myself for such thinking. I sniggered in my mind, "What a tacky story. Combine fire with water… yeah, because this is going to work. Think of what J. said. He’s a pig probably." My pulse rose. "And there is a possibility he’s good in bed. I’m free; I can bang him..." I took another sip of my drink like a bittersweet little toast to myself.

While I was in the bathroom, something told me to check Matt’s list of friends on my phone. I was wondering if Andre might be there. He knew everybody. Nothing. Hah! What a stupid thing to do.

I came back and at some point Justine and I managed—blushing crazily—to remind him of his proposition to me from the last time: to ‘get to know each other very well.’ Now I prayed for her not to say anything directly… and I imagined it. "Hey, do you wanna fuck or what?"

"Yeah, I remember it." He said with a grin. "I’m sure you’ve changed her mind." He stared into my eyes. My gigantic eyes. And my purple face.

"Oh, yeah. She did." J. threw in. "She changed it so much, that she brought even me here exactly for that. So we can get to know each other better. All three of us." They were looking at each other; and somehow it looked slightly phony; after all, she wasn’t such a smooth talker as she had been presenting herself, at least in the beginning.

"Cool,” he said. "I knew we'd find a common language." Twinkles in his eyes, but—oddly enough—any traces of shock were hidden. He stared coolly into my mesmerized eyes. I caught myself nibbling on my lip, completely intimidated.

"Yeah, language. Well, and we could…", Justine sighed, tapping with fingers on the table, "…fuck?" Oh! ("She did it! Oh, shit!") I experienced a powerful surge of heat. Now I sensed even my ears were burning. I pursed my lips nervously. My heart pumped even faster than before. He just nodded, smiling pertly, while I took a big gulp of my drink. They both were smiling mutely looking at me. I took a deep breath. Then another one. And another one. I decided to play the game and check J.’s confidence.

"I’m in. If you’re in," I declared, forcing the words out of my mouth.

"Oh, I’m in." She looked at me and moved her brows up and down. Satisfaction was written all over her face, "We are gonna do this, Annie." I noticed underneath this mask of a confident woman she was boiling over with childish excitement. I felt my heartbeat in my throat.

"Okay!" I said, feeling as if I were losing my mind, pushed by something strange inside me. "Andre, a-a-are you in? With us? You know…? Uhm…" I laughed nervously, embarrassed with my stupid questions. I didn’t know what I was talking about anymore. I was literally shaking; it all became surreal, dreamlike.

They both laughed. Then he leaned toward to me and touched my hair, he played with it, gazing into my eyes, and I was paralyzed.

"You’re so cute. I think you’re the innocent one here. Right?" Justine was looking at me from behind his shoulder, smiling devilishly as he spoke.

"Yeah… I am." I bit my bottom lip again. My voice was trembling. He leaned back with a proud expression and reached for Justine with his hand.

"Come here, babe."

She moved closer to him, and they kissed, with tongues flicking. Quickly, I took another big sip of my drink to calm myself down, emptying the glass. For a moment I saw them through the bottom of my glass; distorted view. I lowered it slowly, still looking at them. Underneath my shock, my nerves, my racing pulse, I found that I was getting horny. It was going to happen… yeah, it was. I hoped I could still walk.

Drinks did their job. The buzz covered my fears, at least partially. I noticed Justine was even tipsier than I was. "So this is the whole mystery behind her wild sexual life? Get drunk and everything will fall into place? Is that all?"

Next round of alcohol dispelled those thoughts for a while. We immersed ourselves in small-talk. We chatted about what we were about to do, and about other trivial things; still, it seemed more as if it were a joke or a dream; definitely, I didn’t feel real. Meanwhile, he proposed that we could go to his place, but we decided that the best would be to go to J.’s.

After this, he even told us he had his recent test for STDs with him. At first, I thought that he was kidding, and I was stunned when he showed us this paper from 5 days earlier. That wasn’t exactly much of a turn-on, but it did help calm me a little. I realized I hadn’t even considered this. The guy was smarter than we apparently. He said he had picked up the idea from the porn industry, that they do tests every month or something like that.

"Is everybody doing this now? …at clubs?" That seemed very interesting to me.

"They should. It’s not such a bad idea," J. stated, waving her glass in the air, pointing her finger up a bit clumsily.

"Maybe I just knew we'd meet again." Our new friend wanted to butter up. Justine rolled her eyes at him, irritated by this. I didn’t get it.

"Yeah. How romantic. Faith made you do an STD test." She said cackling, and she glanced over at him from behind her glass. For the first time, he seemed a little confounded.

"I think it could be a really good thing. Can you imagine? People at clubs with STD identity cards around their necks? We live in a world of invigilation anyway; so why not show people you’re clean and ready to go. Tell me that’s not romantic!" I said, shaming myself even before I could finish the sentence. Justine laughed, almost spilling her drink on herself.

"Twenty-first century!" Andre cackled, "We’re living in a fuckin’ golden age, aren’t we? We’ve got everything we need; you just have to be fuckin’ smart about it." He pointed at his temple. Because of what he had said, and also what I had said, I felt a scratch. The rusty nail coming back. "Let it go."

"If this is twenty-first-century romanticism. I’m a romantic, apparently." Justine added.

After Andre left to visit the bathroom, I asked J., raising my brows, "Don’t you wish Matt had been such a thinker?"

"He is," she looked at me enigmatically and also cocked her eyebrow. "I know what I’m doing, Annie." I felt ashamed again. Was everybody smarter than I was in this matter? I had thought so much about the details—too much—and in the end, I had overlooked the most important things anyway, "…what was I thinking about!?"

Nevertheless, I continued, "Do you? It was me who found him and…" I forgot what I wanted to say.

"Yeah. But… well, you see, how much more we know now?"

"O-kay. But aren’t we rushing in?"

"I think I know everything I wanted to know", she said with an unfazed expression while looking at the crowd, "Really, trust me." She raised her glass to her lips and glanced at me from behind it, smirking; her eyes were shaded with craftiness and confidence.

I was baffled a little. "Does she think she knows him so well already? Is she just drunk and always talked bullshit? But she is so… It can’t be." I had so many questions, but there was no time and opportunity to ask them.

Andre got back. The heavy basses were getting along with my nerves.

"Ladies." He sat down.

"So you really do this every month,” I asked. "Maybe you are some kind of a porn star?"

"Maybe someday I’ll try myself in this biz," he sniggered. "I wanted to do this every three months, but I skip a lot, ah, you know, I’m not such a stud as porn stars," he giggled like not believing his own words. "And I’m not that irresponsible to need it so badly." He looked at Justine, searching for comprehension; he knew already she was the decisive one, who gave a thumbs up or down. I envied this.

He turned to me again. "You get it, right? I’m very responsible." He smiled, winking, and continued, "I just want girls to know that they can be safe with me. And, you know, then we can always do some different things. D’ya know what I mean?" He grinned, staring at me, ("Oooh!")

"So we’re pretty lucky! Actually, we may be interested in these different things,” Justine said, looking at me. "Right, Annie?"

"Well, yeah!... I mean, why not? I’m on the pi…?" I was searching for assurance in her eyes. Now, it hit me with all its power what we were up to; it was flabbergasting how much detail I had forgotten about. ("Is it obvious to him I’m on the pill? Justine knows it, but…or maybe he assumes every girl is? And I will see J. naked. I will see her…screwing! Oh, shit…") This realization shocked me more than anything this evening. A wide lustful horizon showed itself before my eyes; the things we could do… They were giving me shivers, hot and cold, and little shocks, one after another: naughtiness. And chills—I still wasn’t sure whether this was caused more by fear or maybe more by excitement. I felt many opposing forces; these feelings were interesting; worth experiencing. My little debut.

Meanwhile, Andre said with satisfaction, "That’s what I was hoping for." And then he grinned. I liked his smile, even though it was so devious.

With another drink, I became more loosened and neglected all the question marks that I had; all I could ask about was childishly naive anyway, and my questionnaire would last probably forever. The tension between Andre and J. was completely gone now, so maybe they just needed to break the ice, or maybe I was just imagining things.

We were getting more and more excited and more and more impatient—I definitely wanted it to happen as fast as possible, fearing that I could lose my nerve at any moment—so we decided to start the real party.

We took a cab to Justine’s place, to her apartment downtown in a quite classy neighborhood—that was her father’s gift (and they called me a princess… when I only sublet with my roommate, although my parents had made me a similar proposition at first.) We started to kiss in the backseat, me on the left, Justine on the right, giving a driver a piece of a show; he didn’t mind. I felt his eyes and I thought I saw his pervy smile in the mirror. It was shaming me, but I didn’t stop the kissing since J. just didn’t give a fuck, and Andre seemed as if he wanted the driver to see it; peer pressure. I was under the impression he was peeking at the mirror from time to time, checking whether the cab driver was observing us… and whether he was adequately grinning and salivating... I also saw Justine was peeking at me with one eye from time to time, while she was kissing. It seemed now fast and chaotic; I had zero control. The bass beats from before stuck in my mind, and now they were combining with my intense heartbeat.

Despite alcohol in my bloodstream, I was more and more aware of what we were up to; I felt a rollercoaster of emotions. I thought of myself as being naive and immature, and immediately I scolded myself for thinking this. Still, I was agitated. Everything was going so fast. ("How could it be?")

For a moment I wanted to ask Justine for a time out, for a serious counsel about what was happening. ("Are we really going to do this? I mean… really?? What? A threesome!? I forgot about it completely!") I started to think that I couldn’t do this, that I was going to back out. Then I calmed down a little bit, and again I started to panic. ("Act like you know what you are doing for God's sake!") Excitement and curiosity were fighting with my fears and habits. It was a matter of what would get the better of me at the moment the taxi stopped. It was a wheel of fortune.

And when it stopped, the arrow pointed to excitement and curiosity.

J. and I got out of the cab while Andre was paying the driver. I turned around—taking deep breaths all the time—and I saw them conversing. They were smiling, and peeking at us. I was sure this pervy driver, aroused and salivated, accosted Andre about our little situation. In the end, they bumped fists. "Hilarious…" I felt like a slut in driver’s eyes. But, "Fuck him… NOT!"

We got in the elevator, trying to act ordinary, so ordinary that it had to look as if we were definitely up to something. We didn’t say a thing; I wasn’t able to speak anyway. Justine pushed the button, and he put his hands on our waists, me on the right, Justine on the left. Another deep inspiration. The door closed; he looked me in the eye, without a word, just a big confident smile; Justine, with head tilted to one side, was also looking at me from behind his shoulder, also with a smile; her eyes were telling me that everything was going smoothly. I smiled weakly and then they started kissing again. Now, I was shyly looking at them, biting my lip, awaiting nervously future events. Another thought came to me: "This isn’t going to be nice, or gentle, or subtle. Good! I’m sick of that subtle shit."

We entered J.’s place. She turned the lights on. Her apartment was white and spacious with wooden floors and almost no furniture. In the middle of the main room, there was this red couch. It had always been arranged like this, but now it seemed almost as if it were only waiting for people to bang on it. Justine closed the door.

I was burning, almost unbearably, my legs were still shaking. I could hear and feel my heart beat in my entire body: Bang, bang, bang; run, run, run. For a second I even got scared I might faint. "Pull yourself together! Justine was right again, I have a problem, I don’t know what to do! It’s not easy!" I was searching for some guidance from inside. "Remember all those shitty movies, those tricks; use them, on your own terms…"

We were standing close to each other in a triangle. Andre moved in quickly and kissed me again. My whole body went into a short, intense spasm; something almost burst within me. I was thrilled but too nervous just to sink into it… "I’m his first choice" I thought. He touched my face and smiled, and I smiled back anxiously, thinking persistently about pulling down my panties in front of them. And then he got to Justine for a short kiss too.

I stood there: numb, still shocked, watching them; and he again got back to me, now for a little longer kiss. I tried to do it better, get into it, forget about my trembling body and free my mind; but he stopped again after a few seconds, and got to J. for a longer kiss. I sensed how much my stomach was pulsing. I tried to take one more deep, relaxing breath (but my body was quivering too hard), still looking at them kissing at very close range; and the view was fantastic, it was so dirty, and from now on everything was going to be dirtier.

Andre then directed us gently to kiss each other, pressing on our backs. This push was like an order; I had to do it. I was blushing furiously; she was more cool about it, of course. A couple of years ago we had kissed, but that had been more of a joke as teenagers, and not in front of any man. We gazed into each other’s eyes, smiling gently, touching each other’s faces at first. The familiarity of her touch and her sight calmed me a bit; her arms were my relatively safe place. "Easy, easy. You’re new at this; they know it, you don’t have to prove anything, just taste it, learn it; he likes your clumsiness, that’s for sure like they all do. You’re all red, so what? Let them know how you feel, show him who you are."

And a moment later we kissed. Because of my nervousness. I thought that the beginning wasn’t good at all—I had to restrain myself from anxious panting right into her face—but the touch of her fingers on my cheeks was so gentle and relaxing and her lips were so soft and tender, it made me all excited within a few seconds and I quickly got into it.

While we were doing it, he was watching us at this very close range with his hands on our butts, grinning, hissing and moaning, "Oh, yeah. That’s so cool, girls! Yessss! Yessss! Yessss! That’s it!" The feeling that we were kids playing some ridiculous, childish game hit me.

After a while, Andre also slipped in, still grabbing our asses, squeezing harder and harder. And immediately we were touching our tongues in our naughty triangle, laughing... I was laughing at myself and they were laughing at me but, nonetheless, it was incredibly sensual.

Then Justine took Andre’s shirt off—I spotted a scorpion tattoo on his upper left arm (a bad boy…it gave me another portion of a thrill, I was touched be something evil in the air)—and she began to touch his body; her face beamed with delight. I was also admiring it, and touching him, glaring for time to time on his chest while kissing, shock waves hitting me one after another.

Despite my nervousness, I was enjoying myself more and more. Kissing’s always easy; my shy and innocent—yet unbridled—smile said all about how I felt at this moment. Andre’s body seemed to me perfect, and for the first time in my life, I had a real chance to fool around with such a specimen. I wanted to purr, saying it was mine. Out of nowhere, I decided to kiss his nipples next, starting from the left one. At last, I had some initiative. Justine reacted immediately with kissing his other nipple. And while doing that, we were looking at ourselves from time to time with these smiley eyes of ours.

Afterward, he pulled our tank-tops off and we stripped his pants down. He was wearing these black thigh boxers. The large bulge was visible—the harbinger of everything that was going to happen in the near future. I made my mind up, I was definitely going to hump him, the line was crossed, I focused on my fixed goal.

While he was taking our bras off, I was laughing shyly and looking in his eyes.

The bra came off, and my tits were naked…my tits were naked! I was trying insistently to believe in it; and again I had to restrain myself from covering them with my hands. He took Justine’s bra off, and I peeked at her pretty round rack.. I could see her breathing heavily too. I looked at my tits: my breath was also heavy, and my chest was moving and trembling even more noticeably than hers. My face was radiating heat.

I noticed now—having the advantage of good light—how tan Andre was, more than Justine, and definitely more than me.

He was looking at our boobs for a while, then grabbed mine and Justine’s at once and started to squeeze them, groaning and murmuring, then he started to lick and suck them. First, he licked mine, still holding J.’s at the same time—another portion of an almost prostrating thrill—next he licked hers, and then back and forth. My tension—even though very high at this point—was still rising.

Afterward, he got to our pants. First mine. He kneeled, unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them down; I was biting my bottom lip the whole time. His head was near my navel, and he was looking greedily at my panties, gasping while taking off my jeans. I was wondering whether he could smell my arousal. He licked my stomach, making a few rings around my navel and then he shoved his tongue inside it, and my stomach trembled some more. Next, he unclothed Justine.

Then he stood up and tugged his boxers down. The sudden sight of his nob and shortly-shaved pubes was another revelation. I wondered how it could be that I was still standing on my feet. I had to constantly step in one place to feel the ground and balance my wobbly body. Justine gave me a glimpse, and except for a question about my wellbeing, I saw satisfaction in her eyes. Back at Andre’s crotch: his penis was very pretty (for a penis), all red with a sizable shiny purple head, quite like a model; it was big, but it wasn’t gigantic; the biggest I could take—that was my thought at the moment—the biggest I had ever had. I could always appreciate the sight of a nice one; only I hadn’t talked about it. This one, I wanted to try now, and not only with my pussy.

We pushed him on the couch; Justine started, and I helped her. He just stretched his hands out loosely on the backrest and spread his legs apart, showing this proud stiff nob, grinning wide, sitting there like a king, what a golden boy. This picture made me feel like I was a sinner; like I was touched by evil. I was being touched by evil. Justine bent herself and just grabbed it and put it in her mouth right away; it took my breath away; she licked it for a second and took it out, looked at him, smiled, and put it again in her mouth; she began to move her head up and down steadily. Every second was yet another shock for me. I felt intense waves going back and forth: first of disbelief, then the sense of dreaming, followed by the realization of how substantially real it all was; "wakey-wakey".

Yet, I managed to act fast and I decided to lick his nob from the bottom while she was sucking the head. "Let’s try this evil cock." I took a deep breath, and that made me feel a little dizzy. I tried it shyly. I was scared about the taste, but it positively surprised me. It had this quite strong manly flavor, but not overwhelming. I wondered whether he could feel this enormous heat beaming from my face onto his penis and loins. In the middle of the action my jitters began to vanish. This blowjob made me even more aroused, or maybe I just realized how much aroused I was already; so I got into it very quickly, loosened up, and licked it; more and more intensly with every next move. It amazed me how my anxiety level dropped suddenly. "Just do it and let go…"

We were sucking him off more and more intensely and hungrily. We met with our tongues on the top, smiling at each other, and we licked it together with our tongue-tips, rubbing the very tip of his dick. Now, I wanted the whole thing in my mouth fast—like it was going to pacify me—and after a moment she just gave it to me rapidly, like a toy, holding it with one hand, and I shoved it into my throat, a little too far first, I pulled a bit back and sucked it greedily, while purring softly. I felt my panties were getting drenched, or they were already, or I just wasn’t sure what I was feeling anymore, fuses were blown from too much excitement; this mess made me smile… with this big toy between my lips. The ‘golden boy’ was moaning—quite deliciously for my taste—"Yeah… oh, yeah… it’s so good, so fuckin’ good! Oh-oh, yeah…" His dick was getting wetter, saltier and even hotter.

Then he suggested I should get rid of my panties. So I stood up and—just ignoring my cowardly inner fears still spinning around in my mind—started to gently and slowly sway my hips, and at the same time pulling the panties down with my thumbs and forefingers. I was blushing enormously, yet bashfully smiling. I was convinced I looked really good this way; this shyness wasn’t a vice, but rather the icing on the cake of this view. He was watching me and gasping, while Justine was now almost deep-throating him. I had no idea she could go so deep; the sight of him on ‘the throne’ and her kneeling before him was making my insides churning.

My panties dropped down, and he said in a breathless voice that he wanted to "try this pussy," pointing the finger at my crotch. So, again biting my lip, I moved to him, breathing heavily. Although showing my vagina was always a bit troubling, I was doing it like on automatic pilot now. I stood on the couch above him, looking down at him, very seriously, then I quickly shifted my one leg onto the backrest and started bending down slowly. I still wasn't sure, whether I was doing it right, or maybe they would burst into laughter in a moment because of my goofy moves; I took the risk.

Then I realized that right now Justine could see my whole bare naked ass, but before I could start to panic, Andre grabbed my bum firmly and began licking my slit with no hesitation, murmuring into my pussy. At first... shock, then a wave of pleasure ran through my body, making me stretch my back muscles. He seemed to love it. I forgot about everything and began to groan quietly, slowly shaking my head. He wasn’t afraid to go deep, and this made my groaning a lot louder. And he mumbled into my pussy, "Oh! It smells sooo good! And it’s so fuckin’ tasty!" I smiled with eyes closed, moving my hips gently, rubbing it into his face. My eyes got slightly watery.

I calmed myself down almost totally and stopped caring about the details. Now I was just moaning and sighing, "Oh! Oh yeah! Yeah!"

After a while, he said he wanted to try J.’s pussy. So we changed our positions. Justine almost ripped her panties and jumped onto him with an amazing, wild energy, and she stood above him, the same as I had done before. I got off the couch, almost falling down because of my shaking legs. They didn’t notice. Immediately I got on my knees.

Now the view of the bare naked ass of my friend just two feet before my face was one more revelation that froze me for a few seconds. Somehow I hadn’t foreseen such a situation, though I had just done it myself, thinking exactly about J. watching my naked bum... oh, details! The picture was somehow mesmerizing. It was so bizarre, to that day I had seen her so distinctly only in panties, and never at this angle. It was actually a quite pretty view for me; I could appreciate it. I was wondering did she think the same about my ass. I hoped so and, for some reason, I was almost sure she thought so. However, I returned to reality very quickly and took care of his cock. It reminded me about itself by touching my chin. Hard, silky, purple, throbbing, wet, salty, delicious nob.

I really didn’t expect I would be able to do a blowjob with J.’s ass before my eyes this evening. This was a total perversion; it was like one of those situations when people suddenly realize they took a way too big dose of some psychedelic drug and their whole world got turned upside down within one second, and now they have to plough through it; and yet it was incredibly exciting, at least for me; it got to me how wrong was what we were doing; wrong, yet so appetizing. I looked at this guy, that hot body of his so close to me; I grabbed his thighs firmly, the penis was still in my mouth, wrapped tight; I wanted to grasp fully the essence of who he was, with my hands, teeth, tongue, lips; to feel how real he was, how real was what we were doing, to get to the very matter of things. I wanted to feel exactly how much this guy was a prick on every level, and nothing, nothing else; a big shallow dick, having the time of his life, with so little effort. I didn’t want him to be anything more than this. I reached a conclusion that I was glad I didn’t get to know him yet, he didn’t manage to make a total fool of himself and show his weak sides (maybe he did cry at romantic comedies after all. That would not fit). He was surrounded by this envelope of charisma, toughness and… something terrifying… I felt as if there were a void behind him: invisible, gaping, pulling us into its orbit. Me and J., we just made the world slightly worse. It was so wrong… the feeling was sinister, and yet it was making me at the moment sickishly horny, I just couldn’t stop and I wanted, I needed, more! The world of totally new flavors. And I needed more of it partly because of this realization… and it became even more wrong. And I just moaned some more…

…I was licking this dick with this crazy energy, drinking the invisible, intoxicating, stimulating juice hungrily… well, some of this juice was visible, and I was licking it off right away. I was taking it quite deeply, pumping it with my hand and touching the tip with my tongue, licking it all along, while taking a peek at J.’s ass and Andre’s, now wet, chin and tongue between her legs. And it was giving me even more of this sickly intense energy; I tasted something that I had never tasted before; it should be illegal, it definitely tasted like something illegal; I burned, and I wanted to be engulfed by this fire. I had never wanted sex so badly.

After a minute or two, I felt a growing throb of what I had in my mouth. I assumed that he was going to cum, so I asked him in a subtle voice if he was ready for it, massaging his red, engorged with blood, rod; hoping already that there was going to be a ‘Round Two’. He said, sighing, from under J.’s pussy, "Oh, Yeah! On your pretty faces, right?"

Justine immediately jumped off him and got to our stiff toy; we began devouring it, both at once, making a lot of slurpy noises, totally hyped up, as if it were us two who were about to cum; although inside my head I heard a screaming voice of little, sweet, innocent Annie: "Not on the face! Please!" I just smiled, listening to this inner voice of the ghost of the past. We took turns sticking it in our mouths, while massaging it at the same time, changing paces. He was gasping louder and louder while trying to look at us.

Now, he was cumming and screaming, so I opened my mouth and put out my tongue, J. did the same and Andre spurted profusely into our open mouths, and on our faces, with loads and loads of hot, almost steaming, silky cum. It shocked me how much of it he had produced.

This ‘ghost’ reminded me again of my declarations that I would never let a guy do this, to come on my face, and I had never let my boyfriends do that, yet, now I did it. And I thought it was… yummy. I really got into this taste of his. I wanted to make this ‘yummy-yummy’ sound even; I got scared it wouldn’t be as funny for them as it was in my head. I told myself that probably it was the testosterone in it. Apparently, I had a craving for it… perhaps I always had. Then a moronic thought about dairy products came to my mind…

I didn’t have much time to think about anything—probably luckily for me—because J. spontaneously kissed me, then licked the sperm off my face like a puppy. The surprise was written all over my face at this moment, together with the rest of the smeared cum. But I repaid doing the same for her, except I laughed while doing it, and Justine started to laugh at me too. Two lovely puppies—Andre was at the same time moaning and chuckling. And after this, we shortly sucked dry his tired nob, smiling to him; he seemed half-conscious.

I realized something else: I was glad at the moment we had started "slowly"—even though this wasn’t the plan; well, there was no plan—with a blowjob, an appetizer, not a main dish; giving me the foretaste of what was going to happen now, and what I would be getting into, from now on. It was the vestibule; I was standing before the second door. I had time to cool down here.

"You did it, you fucking did! I cannot believe it…" J. said to me and I gave her the most straightforward and uncontrollable smile there was; I couldn’t remember when was the last time my smile had been so unbridled, honest, open… just wild, I forgot such a smile existed. My body was still trembling, now maybe almost as at the beginning.

He took a few deep breaths, still sitting naked on the couch, admiring still the view, and asked for something to drink. I sat down too, also naked, but on the floor, cross-legged.

Justine went quickly to the kitchen annex with her naked ass shaking nicely.

"Great night, right?" He said to me, the grin still plastered on his face.

"Oh, yeah. It’s… quite new to me. I…" I was smiling and running fingers through my hair, "Sorry! I’m still shocked!" I confessed to him, giggling nervously.

He purred looking at me, legs apart, penis in front of me. "You’re a fast learner."

I covered my smiling, blushing face. He was chewing his lip, also smiling cunningly.

Justine took some soda from the fridge, and while returning, she took few sips herself. She gave it to Andre, and then I took it from him. Meanwhile, she said that it wasn’t the end of the night, and she went to her room to—as she put it—get something. She seemed little dizzy. I was wondering what she had in mind.

I sat on the couch, and we started to talk, still without any clothes. It felt like we were pretending it was a perfectly normal conversation, and we were not naked at all. It turned out, he was a year younger than me and J. It was a quite an astonishment that I had done it with a younger man, and I hadn’t even known it at the time. I had never thought of such a possibility. But everything was weird and new this evening.

Now I caught myself getting even more horny, because of this fact about his age. As if it were some kind of forbidden fruit, a younger guy; a taboo; the punishment was inevitable; someone was—should be—looking for me for my naughty behavior. I felt… cool. And immediately a thought popped up in my mind that maybe I had always been too uptight, too guilty in advance. And too much of a reasoner also: sentences couldn’t embrace the reality, only acts could.

I was still tasting his sperm in my mouth. Something that had been there all this time, waiting for stimulus, began to flourish inside me.

Our discussion very quickly turned into topics of his interest. This meant: me and especially my body, but he also talked a lot about motorcycles and cars and similar stuff. The crap that didn’t absolutely interest me, but at least his passion and knowledge impressed me a little. I didn’t get half of what he was talking about, I just nodded, simulating enthusiasm. At some point, I picked out of his monologue that one time he had driven something like 90 miles per hour, or something like that, over a bridge and the bridge seemed to him half as wide. He said it as if it were something to brag about; my expression changed dramatically in one second; I stared at him judgmentally, trying to tell him, with my eyes boring into him, that he had done something bad. After a pause, I told him that I didn’t want to be nearby when he was behind the wheel. He was just staring at my tits, not caring about my opinions whatsoever, probably laughing at me on the inside. And I thought immediately how ridiculous I had to look. I had completely forgotten about being absolutely naked in front of a guy who I barely knew… a big, and naked, sister. It wasn’t the time and the place to be judgmental; he is not my boyfriend or even a friend, "What do I care?". He was my toy; I was his; here and now, "Focus on one thing." The whole situation was a complete deviation from all normal patterns, so fantastically weird that it was hard to grasp as a whole, and as real, at once. This realization was once again giving me this weird feeling as if I were a kid, and the kid was doing something grownups do, something not allowed, something definitely way over my age; one of the privileges of youth is not having privileges. It seemed as if somebody could catch us. "Who?" I was asking myself, with no answer. The feeling remained.

Justine wasn’t coming back for a good 10 minutes, and Andre was getting horny afresh, which I could tell by his uncovered nob in front of me all the time, getting stiffer, while he was talking… and I was glancing over at it—still shyly—he was watching me with a confident smirk. This view—plus his total lack of shame—was, on the one hand, making me nervous, but on the other—and much more—horny. I decided to check what was going on with J.

Standing up, it got to me how much I was still blushing, even though I shook my ass quite proudly for Andre. I turned my head a few times during that, checking his reactions and smiling innocently.

"Bend over more." He commanded before I could get to J.’s room. So, a little scared, I did as he told me, peeking at him and making pretended sexy faces. My body was still shaking a bit because of my nerves, but all in all I felt amused.

I went to Justine’s bedroom to find that she had passed out on her bed with a phone right next to her head, she was still naked. Hah! Sleeping beauty, I smiled to myself; I was the one who was the master of the situation here now, "Oh, sweetie, you’re not such a genius after all." I covered her with a blanket, put the phone away, turned off the lights, and I was on my way back to my new friend. I stopped with a hand on the doorknob and wondered what she had wanted to bring, maybe she was gibbering, she was pretty drunk; yeah, I didn't expect such a guzzling. I guessed she was quite nervous too; maybe even more than me, maybe because she, in our duet, had to be the unfazed leader. "Poor girl, she was hiding her emotions all that time…"

My hand still on the doorknob, I wondered who she had called. Someone to brag about my deeds this night? Maybe Matt? Or maybe to invite him over? "And what if she called him and he will be here in few minutes?" I got startled momentarily, but quickly I said to myself that if he did come over, I would think then what to do. "I’ll open the door naked… Hey, Matt! This is Andre. Andre this is Matt!" Madness. I laughed nervously in my mind.

("Focus, focus. And take care of Andre. Oh yeah!") Thinking that I was kind of alone with a stranger made me even timider and gave me more goosebumps, but I was sure it would end with humping. ("My pussy guides me"), I squeaked and happily, now I could truly appreciate my own gigantic arousal. Even my inner thighs were wet; they seemed wet at least. I purred.

I was walking back to him, smiling as gently as I could in this state. I talked to myself in my mind: "C’mon, look straight ahead! Show him your blush, he will like it, he will love it." He was sitting in his "I don’t give a crap" pose, with arms spread still wide and also wide open legs with this pretty dick standing proudly and his upper-body muscles looking great even without straining. He seemed to get impatient.

"Looks like we must play alone," I said innocently and moved closer to him.

"It’s fine by me; I can focus just on you, babe. On that fantastic ass, oooh..." He responded, gazing at me, now with a very serious expression, stroking my left thigh and hip with one hand, passing his eyes all over my body. Next, he focused his eyes on my pussy for a longer moment, then on my stomach, on my tits, and finally he looked in my eyes.

I bit my bottom lip at first, and next, I touched it with my finger in a tempting way, keeping my eyes on him. I got on the couch, stood above him with my legs spread, giving him a glimpse of my soaked pussy, it was burning like my face earlier. I leaned my head back, running fingers through my hair. I stuck my chest out, with palms on my neck now, letting him watch my sticking out tits.

I looked into his eyes again. "Do you wanna…FUCK me?" I emphasized the F-word and then bit my lip anew, while gently touching my tits with my fingertips. Another wave of heat ran through me, lust and shame combined all together. Finally, I had done something perfect—at least it looked perfect in my mind—I was proud of myself.

"Oh, yeah, I’ll fuck you," he announced slowly in a low voice. "I’ll fuck you good. I want to stuff this little pussy on my spear, babe. You fuckin’ want that too, huh?" His hands were touching my thighs and bum. I showed him one of my dimples, being partially amused and partially embarrassed by his words. He squeezed my butt-cheeks. "You want that, yeah? Wanna feel the real cock, huh?" He was panting already.

"Yes," I whispered and I started to lower myself onto him. He aimed his powerful penis at my radiating pussy. I slowly sat down—"Oh, that’s biiig!"—moaning, while he was sliding into me, filling me. I was scared at first that his nob would barely fit in, but it slid incredibly smoothly; there was only a short shock at first. I had been ready for it for some time. My pussy made a squash-y sound; I thought it was quite adorable, his face told me the same. The heat from my pussy, and from his also incredibly warm rod, spread through my whole body. Finally, my adrenaline rush found its vent; the jitters were gone. I felt full, stuffed, stretched. I was contemplating the feeling, and his tight grip on my ass, and all the scents. His face told me he had to adjust to such tightness and pleasure before he would accelerate.


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