I had group sex and sat on her face!

Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me | A MFFM Story

Previous pre-Group Sex post

For some reason this week, that Monty Python song has been in high rotation in my head. Maybe a love of Monty should be added to my list of dating criteria. That, and a love of Hellman’s Mayonnaise.

Moving on.

Lewis showed up first as promised; wine in hand. I made cocktails and we talked in my kitchen.

We talked until he decided he wanted to fuck me in my kitchen. We had a lovely warmup, again with me standing up, him behind me, slamming into me as I used my island for support. He said he loved my kitchen.

We talked about the woman who would be joining us. Val.

I called him a sexual cupid, as he’d tried to get her and Clark together before but the timing had never worked.

We talked about sexual histories and whether we’d explored non-vanilla sex early on and/or in our marriages. You know the story of my marriage; while he was vanilla in his, he (like me) had a lot of sex prior, including threesomes and group sex in college.

He was surprised to hear my marriage was sexless.

We talked about sex clubs a little bit, and again he said he wanted to bring me the next time a local club hosted a “BBC” night. At that point I told him I was giving up on the art gallery. He said “no, don’t” and I said simply since it hadn’t happened I was skeptical it ever would.

To be clear, I will be shocked if he ever asks. Which is fine.

Lewis took me over to one of the big chairs in my living room. He told me to sit back, he put my legs up on the footstool, and his face between them. Delicious.

Then She arrived. Val.

Oh.

A head shorter than me. Brunette. Heavily apple shaped. Big boobs.

Totally. Fucking. Average.

I liked her. She apologized for showing up empty-handed. She admired my main floor. She was completely non threatening and had a nice energy.

The three of us sat on my couch, talking about a whole lot of nothing. As I got up to make us another round of drinks, Clark showed up. There was the usual introductory small talk. But Lewis quickly hurried us upstairs – it was after all a “school” night and it was already 10pm.

I needed to pee so did so as they went upstairs. They were all naked by the time I made it to my bedroom. Nobody was wasting any time. We joked about it. I put on some tunes… my sex play list which has served me well the last three years.

I hate undressing myself. It reminds me of the lack of romance in my marriage – us each getting undressed separately and then getting into bed. I make it a point of telling regular lovers I much prefer to be undressed, especially because I almost always wear undergarments meant to be admired. What’s the point of wearing stockings if I’m taking them off?

(And for the record, I’m excluding the act of undressing as seduction. Way different: totally fine in my books.)

Lewis and I started things off, while Clark and Val got to know each Β other. Soon I was being pounded from behind again and the orgasms were rolling one after the other.

Clark wasn’t having much erection luck, it seemed. I could sense some frustration emanating from my right side but then Val said “okay he can’t get it up and you guys are making me crazy – I need Lewis to fuck me.”

I didn’t think it was particularly polite. I surprised myself and told Lewis he should probably give her a go. Which he did.

I took my time with Clark. The man has a crazy hot body. Cut, muscular, just beautiful. He was mortified his penis wasn’t working according to plan. I reminded him quietly the last time we were together the tables were turned. I told him I knew exactly what his cock was capable of.

A little bit of dedicated Ann time and Clark was good to go. It was spectacular until it wasn’t. I knew he was troubled, so I told him I wanted to see what he could do with his hands.

In parallel, I was amazed to watch Lewis in action. Watching him fuck is a thing of beauty. I think his thighs are the size of my waist. Val was happy, getting what she wanted. I heard her comment to me “oh, your poor sheets”, and I told her not to worry.

There was not one single ounce of jealousy.

I asked Clark if he’d ever made a woman squirt. When he nodded yes, I told him I squirted but nobody had done it in a long time. Would he do it for me?

He was happy to demonstrate his prowess.

Sweet bloody hell. Within maybe 10 seconds I had soaked my sheets. He was very pleased with himself and I made all the right cooing noises. He did it again, just to prove it wasn’t a fluke. The Virgo in me wondered why I hadn’t thought to put the waterproof sheet on.

Shortly afterwards, Val asked me if I wanted to sit on her face while Lewis fucked her. Sure! I said, while inside I thought “geez I’d rather be the one getting fucked”.

But it was good. Quite good, especially when her or Lewis added their fingers to her tongue. At one point we were in a classic porn foursome layout – Lewis fucking her, me sitting on her face, me sucking Clark’s cock.

After that I got Lewis back to myself, and Clark after some additional cock sucking by Val was able to fuck her. I was glad he redeemed himself.

Lewis and I connected multiple ways. He got on top of me and we moved in perfect synchronicity, him whispering in my ear that he wanted me to cum for him. I obliged, and asked the same of him. He came with a quiet set of thrusts and a shudder. I was pleased.

We were all pretty spent. It was midnight. Small talk ensued, apologies for ruining sheets were made, clothes were found and put on. Val asked whether I enjoyed her ministrations.

I made Val a cup of tea for the road. We discussed how much fun we’d had, and thanks Lewis for making it happen.

Like we’d just formed a new bridge club instead of having a foursome.

I removed my soaking sheet and mattress pad and put them in the washing machine, put on a new sheet, and fell promptly asleep.

 

[Image from the movie “My Favorite Wife”, which I was saving for Tony but thought it appropriate for this post]

38 thoughts on “Sit on my face, and tell me that you love me | A MFFM Story

  1. I have one problem with your post (aside from the fact I’m just seeing I missed one, somehow).
    Why do you write Clark *redeemed* himself? I feel it’s unfair to him to put all the pressure of failure on his shoulders. If anything, the way you handled it shows that it was a case of nerves, and from your post, I don’t think Val gave a fuck about anyone else but herself. So it was her fault too, for not making him feel wanted/competent enough… not just his body’s (or mind’s) for not getting it up?
    My take on it πŸ˜‰

    • I got some great sex, a new experience, and that’s what I wanted. It took very little effort and was addictive instead of detractive. Are you actually going to try to lecture me on this somehow being a bad idea?

  2. Wow. I think your sensitivity to Clark was wonderful. Not so much for Val – as you put it, she sounded quite insensitive, though to be devil’s advocate – there’s nothing worse than being in the heat of horny and your partner can’t deliver… and sometimes your manners can go right out the window. I bet that was a nice deep sleep that followed, too. πŸ™‚

    • I hope she didn’t come across as a horrible person… she wasn’t. It was insensitive for sure and I thought she could have handled it differently (simply saying “hey can we switch” or something like that) and I felt bad for Clark… who last time was a rock hard demon. So as you say, I think she was horny and frustrated. Lewis is kinda spectacular lol…

  3. I’m curious from your description…I know you’ve said that you don’t write sex super well (which I disagree with) but I know that you’ve written with passion, and obvious delight about other encounters with lovers. Your description of this event is rather matter of fact and I’m wondering if it was just “meh” for you, or if you’re just being spare with it because you’re busy and not focused on writing it up?

    • Great question!

      Yes, I was rushing to get it out for sure and there’s more I want to write about so feeling like I’m getting a bit backed up.

      But that’s not everything to it – it wasn’t that the experience was “meh”. It was fun, but not spectacular. It was also devoid of emotion. The closeness I felt to Lewis when we finished off the night was likely due to sex chemicals more than anything else.

      So I do wonder if that translates into how I want to write about it. We take the time for things we really care about. I could probably have written 4,000 words on the night, how Val’s big breasts looked as she was being fucked, how I traced my finger around Clark’s biceps and told him he was stunning, how I noticed with interest how it looked when Val was scrunched into a pretzel, how her rolls got all bunched up and how Lewis didn’t care one bit, how I liked to see the contrast between Val’s and my white skin and their darkness…

      I guess I didn’t care enough to write it. Perhaps I should, but I’d rather write about Tony, the close call I had with my ex potentially moving away again, the guy who matched with me on Bumble right before I was going to delete it, the conversations I’m having with Madeline on how much contact to have before a first date…

      Thanks for the question… lots to think about πŸ™‚

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