There used to be this college guy my friend knew. She’d go hang out at his house, fuck him, and smoke his weed. I don’t remember his name. Trey, I think. I ended up going by there on my own at some point. He was actually pretty smart (and cute). We’d watch movies and listen to music. I was pretty shy (still am). I thought he was so freakin hot but I wouldn’t ever make a move. Finally he did.
We’d make out. FOR HOURS. He never went much further. A lot of heavy petting. One of the first (not the first) cocks I ever sucked. He let me practice. I fell in love with it. He was the first guy who ever held my head and fucked my mouth. The first guy to ever talk dirty to me. At the same time he was a friend, and respectful. I knew I could trust him to fuck around without hurting me. I got to experiment a lot with him, even though we never had sex, it was pretty intense for me.
He had a party one night and we ended up all over eachother. He was backed up against a wall with me pressed against him, kissing him. He had his hands up my shirt, his leg up between my thighs. I’m sure my skirt was around my hips, or close to it.
A friend of his came up behind me and started kissing my neck. Both of their hands were all over my tits and ass. I could feel his hot friend rubbing up against my backside. I wasn’t thinking. No thoughts at all. My response was physical and electric. IT FELT SO GOOD.
Before anything could happen my friend Stacy grabbed me by the arm and drug me out of the house. She drove me home and scolded me the whole way about how I didn’t want to be a slut like that. At the time I was glad she saved me. Now, I wish she hadn’t done it.
It’s the only time in my life I’ve ever come close to being with two guys.
I wish they could have had their way with me.