| Straight: Lusty Liaisons: Team handling |
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‘This package requires team handling’ was the legend on the side of the cardboard box that had held the neighbours’ new washing machine. I noticed it as I was parking the car at the end of another working day. The phrase made me chuckle and reminded me of my earliest days with Jen, my wife of just over twenty years. Once inside I opened a glass of wine, flopped down into an armchair and let my mind drift back more than two decades. We first met in the Christmas of ’84 when we were both in our last year of University. The party was in full swing around me, ‘Do they know it’s Christmas’ blasting out for the I-don’t-know-how-many-eth time that evening when I first saw her. I remember thinking, ‘Just how much lace can one woman wear?’ but then I noticed just how glorious her legs were and what an exquisite arse she had and I knew she had me hooked. ‘Faint heart and all that, Graham’ I was thinking as I approached her and opened with some politically correct line, probably something about apartheid or Nelson Mandela (who, I had recently found out needed to be free but wasn’t). She just looked at me with a mixture of pity and confusion before saying, ‘What?’ Changing tack quickly, I asked her who she had come to the party with, hoping some shared acquaintance might provide an easy topic of conversation. Looking around she pointed across the room, ‘Dave Stemmons. You know him?’ ‘Know of him’, I said to myself. He was widely reckoned just about the biggest fuckwit in existence. Maybe it was the amount of drink, maybe it was the quality of her legs, but I found myself blurting out, ‘What the fuck can you see in him? Look at him – he’s only got one glove on, for fuck’s sake.’ As cool as you like, without missing a beat she replied, ‘But he’s got a lovely thick cock and he knows just what to do with it.’ Feeling there wasn’t much more that needed saying, she walked away from me. As I watched the back of her permed head moving away I thought, ‘I can honestly say I’ve never met a girl like you before.’ I knew that I had to get to know her better. I soon found out that her name was Jennifer (but her friends called her Jen), she was doing English and that she ran with a much more fashionable crowd. After the Christmas holidays I arranged to ‘accidentally’ bump into her coming out of a lecture. To my surprise she agreed to go out for a drink with me. We hit it off straightaway and I found her very easy company. We were both fairly pissed by chucking out time on that Friday evening. ‘Your place or mine?’ Jen said. I was too drunk and far too horny to worry that she already had a boyfriend and we made our way back to her place for a night of drunken passion. In the morning I wanted to test the waters – see if this was a one off or whether it might lead somewhere. ‘Won’t Dave mind…about us, I mean?’ ‘Chucked him. The wanker got all possessive. It’s alright for him to put it about but when I do the same it’s a different story altogether.’ ‘Oh.’ I said encouragingly, hoping Jen would amplify. ‘You see, Graham, I’m not really sure whether I could settle for just one man. I like sex too much and, like they say, variety is the spice of life.’ Pictures started to flash through my mind. Jen in different positions with different guys, all of them fucking her with their big cocks, making her cum, filling her holes with their seed. I felt a stirring in my own cock. These thoughts weren’t disgusting me or making me think less of Jen, but they were making me horny as hell and my cock stiffened fully in anticipation. ‘I wouldn’t mind.’ I found myself blurting out before I knew what was happening. ‘What?’ she replied. ‘You could cope with me…being with other men?’ And suddenly it came to me. ‘As long as you promise never lie to me and promise to always tell me about it…and promise me you’ll never call it ‘being with’ – let’s face, it Jen, you love fucking. Let’s call a spade a spade.’ Jen laughed and her hand encircled my now rock-hard dick. ‘If you’re really sure, Graham. Are you turned on by the thought of me taking another man’s cock into my cunt, sucking him off and drinking his cum?’ My own seed spilling over the back of Jen’s hand made all the reply I thought necessary. ‘My God. You really are turned on, aren’t you? O.K. you’re on.’ We made arrangements to meet the next night and I left Jen to her Saturday. Just then my recollections were interrupted by Jen arriving home from work. I was still sitting on the sofa, drink in hand, gazing intently at nothing in particular. ‘Hi, honey, I’m home,’ she quipped. Noticing that I hadn’t started cooking dinner, her face darkened for a second. ‘Anything wrong?’ ‘God, no. I was just remembering when we first got together. Do you remember the agreement we made?’ ‘Course I do. I didn’t think we’d still be together at the end of the week, never mind after all this time.’ ‘Do you remember the first time we put it to the test?’ I asked her. Jen thought for a moment and then a big grin crossed her face. ‘Oh yes. I certainly put you to the test, didn’t I?’ ‘Go on,’ I said, ‘Tell me again. You know I like to hear about it – even after all this time.’ Jen laughed, moved over to fix herself a drink and said, ‘Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin. After you left me on that Saturday morning my flatmate Patricia barged in to make sure that we were still on for going to the rugby that afternoon. She was always making excuses to come into my room, trying to catch me naked to cop a good eyeful. Can’t remember a thing about the game except it was bloody cold – those fingerless gloves never were up to much - and was more than glad when the game was over and we could retire to the bar. His name was Gareth, he played some position or other for the home team and he was a friend of Patricia’s. He offered to buy me a drink and I accepted. He bought me several more drinks over the next few hours and made it clear he wanted me by the way his hands wandered over me. I made sure he measured up, using a casual hand to ‘accidentally’ brush against his crotch and once I knew he would be big enough for me I figured it would also give me a chance to see if you were serious about letting me be me.’ ‘I can’t believe you didn’t think I was on the level’ I said. ‘Anyway, we got back to his place and went into the lounge. We started to kiss and Gareth quickly slipped me out of my clothes so I was naked in front of him. I pushed him down onto the sofa and dropped to my knees between his legs. He had a good, thick cock, I remember, and I settled in to give him a good blowjob. You know how I can’t resist a thick juicy cock, Graham – my mouth still starts watering, just as it did back then, and I’ve just got to get up close to it – and Gareth had a most beautiful specimen. ‘I knew that someone had come in, I could sense them, standing there, looking at us together on the sofa. I could feel their presence behind me. I knew then that I was at a crossroads – I could’ve turned round, covered myself up and brought everything to an embarrassed halt. Instead, I gobbled on Gareth’s cock even deeper, wriggling my arse invitingly and slightly opening my legs. They didn’t take the hint because they didn’t make a move and it was Gareth who finally broke the silence. “For fuck’s sake, Pat, I think she wants you to get stuck in.” ‘Oh my god! I thought. Patricia’s finally got me where she wants me. I was fully expecting to be entered by the slender fingers of an upper-middle-class Sloane ranger with a fixation on my tits – and, you know, I would have fully deserved it and would have taken all she had to give – but the digits I felt on me were definitely male, sliding between my legs, parting my labia and slipping inside my hot slit, the thumb making circular motions over my arsehole. ‘I remember thinking, “You’ve crossed a line here, Jen. Things won’t be the same again whatever happens next.” It was so thrilling, not knowing what this person looked like - completely crazy as well, of course – but that was me back in those days. It also made me edgy – I was already well into taking the dominant role and I knew that I was at the mercy of these two men who I hardly knew – they could have done anything they wanted to me and I wouldn’t have been able to stop them. But I could also picture myself telling you about it the next day, trying to guess what your reaction would be, hoping you would get as turned on as you said you would do, hoping that it would make you hard to listen to me telling you about the two men who had used me the night before.’ ‘It’s still turning me on – over twenty years later,’ I said encouragingly, slipping my trousers down, releasing my cock for Jen’s attention. She started to stroke me slowly and tenderly before resuming her tale. ‘What they did do next, or at least Pat did, was to ram his cock straight into me. I guess he must have felt I was too much of a slut to bother with much foreplay. I remember his cock wasn’t as long as I like them, but it had a nice girth and I could feel a pair of heavy balls slapping against my clit with each thrust, which is always a good sign. Only when he had his cock buried to the hilt inside me did I allow myself a glance over my shoulder at him. At least I recognised him! I had seen him around but didn’t know his name was Pat, and now here he was, both hands on my hips, driving his meat into my increasingly soaking cunt. ‘Being young, both of them emptied their loads very quickly – not quite at the same time but it wasn’t a porno after all – but both produced impressive quantities of sticky jizz. But, being young men, they were also good to go again very soon. They swapped ends and used me once more for their pleasure, this time in Gareth’s bedroom before Pat left us to fall asleep. In the morning I woke up especially early, gathered my clothes silently and rushed round to yours, running pretty much all the way,’ Jen said. ‘I remember it well – I was asleep and you woke me up, standing over my bed, panting and flushed. I could smell them on you,’ I said. ‘You certainly seemed to enjoy me telling you about it – your cock was hard almost before I started and you coated the back of my hand before I got to the end of my story.’ ‘I’ve got better over the years,’ I said. ‘But not much.’ Jen’s hand had been stroking me during the telling of her story, increasing in speed and pressure. Now with a final few strokes she brought me off to a very satisfying orgasm and I thought, for what must have been the millionth time, what an incredible woman I had married. |
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Gunner was 'Spot On !'