I showed up late at their high-rise apartment, bus from hell. Top floor, killer view. Her husband opens the door, kisses my cheeks, amused grin. Maryline strolls in, that killer little dress hugging her curves. They give me the tour—sleek, renovated, not flashy. aperitif on the terrace, sun dipping low, store shading us. We chat school, old profs. Laugh about Milano’s coming out, Bertin banging a second-year guy. Jean pours strong drinks. Loosens me right up.
They lock eyes. Maryline dives in: ‘Last time, you said you’re clueless about sex, wanted tips.’ I nod. ‘We could show you real stuff, not porn bullshit. Overplayed for guys.’ I agree. ‘Three consenting adults. But we need your commitment.’ Heart pounds. ‘Say yes to hear more, no and it stops forever.’ ‘Yes.’
The Awakening
‘Next step: get naked. Prove trust.’ Shock hits. ‘Now?’ Her voice cold, commanding—new side. ‘Unbutton your blouse. Turn. Drop the shorts.’ Hands shake. In undies, matching set thank god, no granny panties. They sip drinks, eyes devouring. ‘Bra off. Turn, panties down.’ I fumble, bend over—ass fully exposed. Mortified, I spin. Arms twitch to cover tits, pussy. ‘Hands down,’ Jean snaps. Chills.
My turn watched. Maryline stands, unzips slow, dress pools. Naked underneath. Bush trimmed heart-shaped, fiery red. Turns—salamander tattoo snakes low between cheeks. Kneels, kisses him deep. Unbuttons shirt, licks chest. Pants next—his hard cock springs free, no undies. She strokes, sucks him in. Slow, deep. I edge closer. Head bobs, wet slurps. He groans, hand on her neck, pushes deeper. She takes it all, lips to base. No gag. Thirty minutes. I’m soaked, fingers slip to clit. He grabs hair, controls rhythm.
‘Allez.’ She pumps fast. He tenses, roars, pumps cum down her throat. I shatter, rubbing frantic, screaming orgasm. They smile. ‘Liked the show, voyeuse?’ Embarrassed, we dress. Lunch, normal chat. But buzzing.
The Act
Coffee done, to bedroom. Strip again, easier now. Sit in chair—too late, restraints from ICU cuff wrists, ankles. Panic rises. ‘No touching. Learn frustration’s bliss.’ Gag ball shoved in, drool starts. He strips, cock thick again. She yanks hair back, tits in face. Mounts him reverse—perfect view. Pussy lips swollen, tattoo tail dives to jeweled rosebud plug. She grinds wet slit on shaft. Impales slow, sighs. Rides hard, moans mix.
Positions shift. Him on top, pounding. Her orgasms roll—eyes lock mine sometimes. Then doggy, ass to me. Pulls plug slow, wink of hole. Lube on his cock. He presses in—anal, inch by inch. She pushes back, loving it. No pain, pure pleasure. Why do girls fear this? Five, ten minutes thrusting. He grips hips, slams, freezes—cries out, fills her ass. Cum dribbles down thigh as she collapses.
They untie, un gag. Jaw aches, limbs tingle. Dressed, salon. Tea. Jean leaves, envelope handed off. ‘Thoughts?’ ‘Insane. Hot. Not what I expected.’ Admit loving orders, bonds, gag. She nods. Shows pics—me blurred, masturbating spread wide. Insurance. Trust but verify. I shred them on bus home.
Shower turns to frenzy. Fingers plunge, cum legs buckling, knees hit tile. Hardest orgasm ever. Virgin still, but worlds ahead. Their secret burns in me. Crave more.