Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Training Course

I have a 3some on a training course

“It’s only for a week DD” I said.

“Sammi, that’s a fucking long time, especially at my age,” he replied.

“Don’t be silly you’re only forty five for Christ’s sake” I replied as he arched his back a little so that he could get his mouth to my breast. “And in case it’s not a full week.”

“It’s fucking Sunday to Friday, that’s most of a week.”

“I wouldn’t see you on the Sunday would I?”

“No, but you would during the week.”

“Yes, but why do you have to go away, can’t they teach you at the college?” He muttered almost incoherently as his mouth was full of my nipple.

“Mmmm, that’s nice” I whispered sliding my hand down his back and gripping one of his cheeks.

“Mmmmm so is this” he replied sucking both my nipple and the areola into his mouth as we lay with his cock rigid buried deep inside me.

“And this?” I asked slipping my finger into the crease of his bum and pressing it right on his hole.

“Oh fuck yes,” he groaned, opening his legs.

I pressed harder so that my white painted finger-nail opened up the puckered surround a little.

“Yes?” I said enquiringly, pushing a little harder

“Oh Sammi” he sighed.

“Well?”

“Fucking hell yes of course, you dirty little bitch” he said starting to fuck me again.

We had a mutual orgasm with my finger up his bum almost to the second knuckle.

*

I met DD, David Deakins, at university. He was a lecturer, I was a student. I was the producer of the first year student’s end of term play and he was the staff member responsible for overseeing it. That caused us to meet frequently and that led to me seducing him, although he did not take much seducing once I made it clear I was available. Since my teens I have had a ‘thing’ about older men!

Our ‘affair’ continued for the next year while I was at college and went on after I left and returned to Essex. As the university was in Bristol, some one hundred and twenty miles from where I lived, seeing each other was difficult. However, as DD still lived in London with his wife and children, he was there about every other weekend and we were able to sneak a little, but not enough, time together. Things significantly improved, though, when he left Bristol for a post at London University and we had much more opportunity to have sex, which we took up very avidly.

DD’s wife, the titless bitch as we called her, was a big wig in the Civil Service and was on some sort of working party connected with the EU. This meant that she travelled to Stuttgart and Brussels quite often giving DD and me all the time we needed to continue our affair.

We both knew that it would go nowhere and we had discussed that. He would not leave his family and I did not want him to. I had no desire to be a stepmother to a son just a few years younger than me and, although a twenty year age difference with DD seemed ok to me at twenty three, I could not conceive what it would be like when I was forty or so.

We had talked about it often and had a tacit agreement. For the sake of peace at home, he would continue sleeping with the ‘titless bitch’ and I would ‘see’ other guys and maybe meet my ‘mister right’ one day.

After disappointing my parents by leaving Bristol University less than two years into my degree, I had gone to drama school. I had no desire to be an actor, but wanted to get into TV or films as a writer, producer and director. I loved it. The college was in Bloomsbury in Central London.

A year or so after I had started, my dad’s property development business got into financial trouble and it went bust. He and mum split up and dad went to live in Spain. That meant he could contribute hardly anything towards my fees and mum, although having the large house in Loughton, Essex was not inclined to help other than letting me live there for free. To pay for the fees I had to work and the only job I could find that provided the amount of money I needed and gave me the time to go to college and study was as a glamour photographic model. In other words, stripping off for photographers to shoot me undressing, naked and feigning, well usually feigning, orgasms.

On the course, I covered most of the topics the guys wanting to be actors studied, but also I had to do a finance and law module. They did not cater for that at Bloomsbury so I was attending a course at a training centre near Reading. It was run by two trainers, both of whom were in their mid-forties who, despite the tedious topics were entertaining and interesting. There was no one else from my college on the course, but there were four guys and one other woman.

Miriam was older than me, probably early thirties, and though quite pretty was chubby and very badly dressed, she looked dirty and unwashed and rather bohemian. The four guys were very intense and exceedingly boring, but friendly.

I like the two trainers. Mike was tall and quite slim, with a mop of unruly, dark hair. Alan was shorter and very good looking with greying blonde hair. We got on well during the week and had mildly flirted from the outset at registration and the dinner on escort bayan topkapı the first evening. It had got stronger and more obvious as the week went on particularly in the bar after dinners. Most evenings the guys and Miriam went to bed almost straight after dinner leaving me to the advances of Mike and Alan.

As my and one of the boring guy’s courses included writing, we had an extra day than the others. Hence, they left on the Thursday afternoon and Mike and Alan were due to deliver a module on copywrite law on the Friday. As usual, soon after dinner the other student went to bed leaving the three of us in the nearly empty bar.

Mike and Alan were both wearing chinos. Mike’s were blue, which he wore with a white Polo shirt and Alan’s were beige with a dark blue linen, long sleeved shirt on top. They both looked smart, yet cool. They were modern, but were not trying to look younger than they were and that’s the look I like on a man.

I was dressed in a frivolous fashion; God knows why, but I was probably playing to the gallery, well them really I suppose. I was wearing a ridiculously short, cornflower blue, slightly flared skirt with a silly, little sleeveless top that had spaghetti straps over my shoulders, one of which, the left, was loose and kept sliding off my shoulder. It was quite low cut, but fairly tight and probably showed clearly that I hadn’t bothered with a bra. But then I had not worn one most of the week. As it was still warm and the tan I had got in Egypt was holding up well, I was not wearing tights or stockings. I had strappy mid-height heeled, peek a boo shoes that flashed off my scarlet painted toe-nails to perfection.

Alan and I were sitting in low chairs at, say, six and nine o’clock, with Mike on a sofa opposite me at twelve. We had a small table between us. We were discussing our private lives. Alan was married. “But” he said smiling. “My wife does not understand me.”

“Yeah right” I smiled back. “Wives never do, do they?” I went on slipping the spaghetti strap back in place.

“And I don’t have one, do you Sam?” Mike asked, adding. “Partner that is.”

I told them about DD.

“So” Alan said leaning forward and filling my glass with white wine as he took the opportunity to look down my top. “You like older men then, giving hope to us all.”

Sipping the drink I laughed as Mike said. “Yes, but not married ones, or is your lover one of those?” He asked his foot under the small table touching mine.

“I am afraid so” I told them, again pulling up the thin strap.

We talked along those lines for a while, gently flirting and gradually talking in more intimate terms. I felt comfortable with them and the more we chatted the more I liked them. Several times during the hour or so that we were drinking wine, one or the other would touch me. Perhaps placing their hand on my bare shoulder as they passed by going to the loo or putting their fingers on the back of my hand as they made a point or, as he had several times, Mike playing footsie under the table.

Being a training centre the bar closed at eleven and I was surprised when I heard the bell ringing and the barman calling for last orders; the evening had passed so quickly.

“Shame to have to end so early” one of them said.

“Yes” I replied not thinking.

“Well it doesn’t have to” Mike said.

“No?”

“No of course not” Alan added.

“How come?” I asked innocently.

“Well” Alan said hesitantly…………………..”We could always continue in one of our rooms.”

Although I was very mellow from the four, or was it five, glasses of Pino that I had drunk, I realised this was a bit big time. I knew that going to a guy’s bedroom any time was a little provocative, but at this time of night, there could be little doubt as to the intentions. But there would be the three of us I reconciled. ‘Yes’ I went on to myself, but is that safer or less so? I was torn. I had, of course, been ‘unfaithful’ to DD, not that often and as we had a tacit agreement that I could go with who I wanted in addition to him, it was hardly being unfaithful, just adventures or opportunities as I thought of them. So from that angle, I was not too worried. It was on the overall promiscuity and morals front that I had reservations. I didn’t really do one-nighters, so I was concerned that I was even considering accepting their invitation and more so, I think that there would be the two of them. Were they looking for a threesome, or were they looking for a one after the other, I wondered, actually feeling surprisingly calm about the situation?

“Well Sam, shall I get some booze?” Alan asked

Smiling I said, probably sounding rather more confident than I felt. “God you certainly know how to charm a girl don’t you, booze as well?”

“Grey Goose no less as well ok?”

Without thinking I replied. “My favourite.”

“So are we on?” Mike asked moving up close and sliding his arm round my waist.

“Just a couple of drinks,” I said defensively, but quite enjoying the feel of Mike’s hand on my hip.

We walked over to the bar where the handsome Polish barman Vetle was pulling beykent escort down the shutters.

“A bottle of Goose please Vet” Alan said.

“Sure coming up, how many glasses?” He asked turning and seeing me. He had subtly chatted me up a couple of times and I half wished it was his room to which I was going. As he handed Alan the bottle of vodka and glasses he, rather cheekily said smiling at me. “Have a nice night.”

Still with Mike’s arm loosely draped round my waist the three of us strolled out of the bar area and across the lobby to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Alan took hold of my hand as we moved along. It all felt very nice.

“Here we are” Mike said putting his card into the lock of the door. As I slipped through the doorway ahead of the two guys, I glanced around hoping that no one had seen us.

Being a training centre, the rooms were Spartan, but practical and beautifully clean. There was an easy chair in the corner, an open wardrobe for clothes on one wall and a desk that also served as addressing table on another. There was a waist high window running along one wall and a double bed. The easy chair was piled high with books and files so when Mike had said to take a seat, I sat on the edge of the bed. Alan propped himself against the desk facing me his feet just a couple of feet from mine and Mike sat on the floor leaning back against the bed his shoulder pressing against my leg. We sipped our vodkas, mine with a touch of water, and chatted although that was restrained than it had been earlier; I guess we were all thinking about the situation.

“So?” Alan said.

“So. So what?” I smiled back.

“Here we all are.”

“Yes aren’t we” I replied still having no idea whether this was just for a drink, a threesome or whether they would work something out between themselves. As I slipped the shoulder strap back up yet again, I was thinking that maybe they had already done a deal on who was going to try to have me. As we finished our drink and Alan topped up the small glasses I was half expecting him to leave, as we had come to Mike’s room so perhaps he had won the raffle with me as the first prize I was thinking? After filling the glasses Alan did not go back to lean against the desk, but instead stood right in front of me just a foot or so away. He looked down and I looked up.

“Sam there’s been something bothering me all evening” he said a slight smile on his face.

I had no idea what he meant.

“Really Alan, what’s that?”

“It’s that bloody strap.”

“What?” I asked not getting what he meant.

He reached out and took hold of my left shoulder strap. “This” he said.

“What about it?” I asked.

“You and it have been driving me fucking crazy all night.”

I smiled. “What you mean it falling down?”

“To be truthful” he went on, not letting go of it. “It’s more the pulling it up again.”

Mike chipped in. “I know exactly what he means Sam.”

I didn’t move, but was surprised and excited when Alan slipped the strap off my shoulder and still holding it pulled it down almost to my elbow. At the same time, Mike turned and looked up at me. To do that he had to put his elbow on the bed and that meant his lower arm pressed against the bare skin of my leg between my knee and the hem of his skirt. I could have moved of course, I could also have taken the thin strap from Alan and I could have stood up and moved away. But I did none of those things. I had become sort of hypnotised by the situation, and I guess by the booze. I simply sat there as one of them held the strap of my top and the pressed his arm against my bare leg.

Looking right into my eyes Alan said. “Well it’s both really.”

“Yes” Mike offered. “When it slips down you flash the top of your boob and…………”

Alan interrupted. “And when you pull it up like this” he said pulling the strap back in place. “You flash your nipple, see? Just like this.”

Looking down I saw what he meant for, by pulling on the strap the thin material was stretched across my small boob. It was a weirdly arousing situation to have both guys and me staring at my quite obvious nipple and less obvious, but still visible areola.

“Well you don’t have to look guys.”

“Come on Sam” Alan said. “We are men, how could we not look?”

Smiling I said. “Yes I guess so.”

“As Mike said, when it slips down” Alan went on pulling it down again. “It flashes the top of your boob and makes us wonder just how much we will see” he went on his eyes boring into mine as he pulled it further than it usually slipped.

I looked down and saw that my left boob was uncovered almost to edge of my areola. None of us moved, but I felt Mike’s fingers softly rubbing the outside of leg a few inches above my knee. Alan went on in a croaky voice.

“Does it ever come down further Sam?”

At the time, I did not realise what a rather silly conversation this was. Later when I thought back over it, I realised it was daft, but then when sex and booze are involved conversations often are. My muddled mind worked out that Alan was asking if he could pull it ortaköy escort further so that he exposed my breast. The idea of both of them seeing it, for some reason had a strong appeal. I muttered.

“It has been known Alan yes, there have been times.”

He was staring at me with a very intense look on his face. He seemed to be nervous and appeared to be breathing quite heavily as he, almost croaked.

“And could this be one of those times Sammi?”

I froze. I was so hellishly nervous, yet at the same time very worked up. After all the messing around, flirting and titillation that had gone on this evening and after agreeing to come to their room and having let them both touch and caress me, I was ready for sex, they had primed me for it! I had not seen DD for over a week and that was an unusual amount of time for me during the last year or so to go without sex, so not only was I ready for it, I realised as Alan held my top half way down my breast that I wanted it as well. But with both of them?

Although my mind covered a wide range of thoughts, my hesitation was probably only a few seconds before I replied. But during those seconds my mind considered my situation with DD, that Alan was married, that the two trainers had, without doubt ‘pulled’ me and what would it make me if I had sex with one of them? A slag, a tart, a slapper or just a young woman being seduced? Even more so, what would it make me if I had sex with both of them? That was a total imponderable.

I looked from one of them to the other and in a near whisper croaked.

“Yes. Yes it could be.”

Again, time seemed to stand still, it was like a film in slow motion. We were all looking at Alan’s hand, the thin strap of my top and my left breast as slowly, excruciatingly so he pulled the top further down. He pulled it down until it passed the full swell of my small boob, until it exposed my areola, until it lifted up and over my horrendously swollen nipple and slid past the downswell of my breast until it was totally bare and exposed to both their, and my I have to add, gazes.

It was as if that was the multiplier the situation needed to go, as it were, viral. Uncovering my breast acted as the green light, as my acceptance of their enquiry and as the signal to go further.

As Alan sat on the bed next to me, cupped my breast and kissed me so I felt Mike moving and sliding his hand round my leg so that it edged between them a little, but was stopped by the flesh of my closed thighs. It was quite a sensation. Alan and I continued kissing as his hand became more adventurous and started to squeeze my boob and pinch and pull my aching nipples that had been crying out for attention from almost the moment I had walked into the room. I moaned and sighed a few times as the lovely feelings from my so sensitive tits and nipples washed over me.

I felt Alan pulling the other strap down and slipping the material from my other breast. I was now topless and, quite frankly, I was enjoying their attention and exposing my body to them.

Mike got up onto the bed beside me and he cupped and caressed my other boob as I turned my face to him. We kissed. Then Alan’s hand slid up and down my legs going almost as far as, but not quite onto my panties, where I realised with a touch of surprise was exactly where I wanted it to be.

I alternated between them kissing and licking as we each sucked the other’s lips and duelled with our tongues whilst their hands were roaming all over my chest and up and down my legs. I knew that it was only a matter of time before one of them ‘went all the way’ up there and I could feel my pussy excreting my womanly juices in anticipation of that.

Alan started pushing me backward.

“Lie on the bed Sam” he said very huskily.

I wiggled myself backwards a little and lay in the middle. Mike crawled across the bed and me to my other side as Alan knelt on my other side undoing his shirt. I glanced down and saw that he was wonderfully erect and suddenly I wanted to feel that. I looked at Mike who was pulling his polo shirt over his head. He too was clearly erect. They both had good bodies with lightly haired chests. I guess we were all now assuming we were going to have sex of some form or other. I sat up and pulled my top off and hung that over the bed head. I was buggered if I was going to go to my room in the early hours in a wrinkled top that would indicate even more clearly than walking round the centre at that time what I had been doing.

“Mmm, lovely” Alan said lying beside me.

We kissed and he cupped my breasts again. He pressed himself against my outer leg his erection making a very obvious impression. God now, I wanted that so badly. It’s strange with men’s pricks. When not aroused I, along with most women I reckon, rarely think about them. We do not look at guys and wonder what their dick looks like, we don’t mentally undress them and seeing photos of them hard or otherwise is more of a turn off than an excitement. That is until we are sexually excited and until we are up close and personal both to our potential lover and the cock that is shortly going to penetrate us. Then it does become an object of extreme desire, one that we want to hold and kiss and stroke and suck as we prepare to welcome it into our body. And that was how I was feeling as Alan firstly and then Mike pressed the outlines of their cocks against me. We alternated kissing each other as both of them caressed my breasts.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32