To the sauna, to warm up
I have a childhood friend, A-n. Yes, Anton, as you guessed? Damn, to hell with claims of anonymity. Anyway, a friend, a hopeless slacker beyond redemption, a fan of getting wasted and the owner of a complicated biography. It was in his company that I gained a new experience for myself. No, don't jump to conclusions, that was just an ambiguous phrase. Male homosexuality is not my thing at all, I'm more interested in ladies.
So, Antosha, even being married, didn't deny himself communication with the fair sex, and sex, if it worked out, even more so. Obviously, his wife got tired of it one day, and the social unit fell apart after several years of living together, which only played into my friend's hands. I don't approve or condemn his actions, people are adults, they'll figure it out themselves. Personally, I would prefer if there were more strong, happy, loving couples in the world and fewer breakups, especially after the family just paid off a half-million loan for the wedding. Yeah, a hopeless slacker, that's exactly what I was talking about.
One of Anton's flings became L-a (and what are you so good at guessing?), a colleague, a pharmacist from a pharmacy chain. Of course not, Antosha didn't work as a pharmacist, how could you think that about him? He didn't even know such words, he worked as a supply manager, driving his personal Ford around the region, assembling display cases, repairing air conditioners, and the like. L. was a single, free woman in her early thirties, perhaps not a beauty by some tastes, but she had a slender figure, her own strong sexual temperament, excellent human qualities, and relatively free views on sex and relationships. A slight sexual hunger and a fairly rich experience at the output create a hellish mix, take my word for it. If such a girl gets going (and she definitely will if there's a more or less decent guy with her), better hold on tight and don't hit the brakes, because otherwise there's a chance she'll be fucking you, not you fucking her. No, this isn't about female domination, strap-ons, and other innocent pranks, L. is for traditional sex. She's doing well now, and I'm very happy for her. One problem — it seems I won't get another chance. A pity, I'd be nestled between her legs right now...
L-a came to the city again from the small regional town where she lived and worked. She visited relatives and friends living here, went shopping, met with Anton. She communicated perfectly with me and another mutual friend of ours, S., so we gathered in a small company on a warm summer evening to chat and have a good time. By that time, Anton was already getting tired of this relationship, but he didn't refuse L. the meeting and the overnight stay. He didn't really want sex with her anymore, well, that's their business.
S. left around ten in the evening, and the three of us continued to communicate at my place. After a while, slightly tipsy, I suggested the three of us go to a sauna to warm up. Yeah, my brakes failed under the influence of alcohol, I seriously hoped everything would work out in the best possible way. I wouldn't have refused sex with L. before, and especially not now, when Anton wouldn't be bothered by it at all. I had spoken to him half-jokingly, half-seriously on this topic several times before, starting with something like the old teasing "If you're a cool guy, share the girl with the crew." In short, it wouldn't be a problem for Antosha at all if someone "took" L. for themselves. One difficulty remained — to persuade L., she wasn't planning to "cheat" on anyone, talking about a threesome with her was even more premature, she would have sent the girl packing for sure. Back then, it was a desired new experience for me too, and I had no idea how to persuade someone for such a thing. Honestly, I still don't have a good idea, although I've tried a threesome.
Anyway, we soon found ourselves in the sauna, and I had enough sense to pay for five hours right away, even if you wanted to sleep there (and I already did, alcohol is a nasty thing, and it was past midnight). Anton and I stripped down to our underwear, L. wrapped herself in a towel taken from my home. After sweating in the steam room, Anton and I went to the pool, and after it — settled at a table to catch our breath a bit. L. was just heading to the pool. Standing with her back to us, she effortlessly removed her towel, descended into the cold water, and splashed around a bit. At that moment, I wasn't listening to Antosha's drunken ramblings at all (he, however, wasn't interested, the process itself was important to him) and was drilling my gaze into the slender body, beautiful legs, small, toned butt, and light hair of our companion. And then... My breath caught when she climbed up the ladder from the pool basin. Small breasts, a neat, thin strip of hair on her pubis, and no shyness at all. How I didn't jump up and lay her out right there on the floor, despite everything, I still don't understand. Like in that joke about several women saved from rape. Self-control, dude, self-control. It almost failed me then, although I'm strictly for consensual sex, and I don't like rapists, to put it mildly.
Somehow putting my blown-off roof back in place, I offered L. a massage. I had brought a few things from home: a bamboo whisk (sorry, no traditional birch ones, and the ones offered for sale at the sauna couldn't be looked at without tears), massage oil, and a blindfold (I had just bought it and wanted to try it, supposedly sensations from touch become sharper). Damn him, Antosha butted in. He wanted a massage too, and he got one. L. probably expected something more, but... On the second trip to the steam room, we were soon alone. Anton, due to drunkenness, was slightly passing out, and he didn't want to sit in the heat for long, walked past the pool, plopped down at the table, and closed his eyes. I started jokingly asking our girl how she felt being alone in the bathhouse with two guys. What an idiot I am, I could have ruined everything at that moment with this conversation. But it was okay, L. had tried sex with four people in her time, so it was hard to embarrass a thirty-year-old woman. I got interested, asking if it was swinging. Trumpets and fanfares sounded in my head at that moment, I was already dreaming of an MFM threesome that I would try now, but I rejoiced, alas, too early. Just sex of two couples in one room. Cherishing the hope of interesting the slightly drunk, uninhibited friend, I told her about my interest in threesomes and a wild temperament, but L. didn't support the conversation, saying that too strong a sexual attraction needs to be restrained, and didn't provide further arguments for her position. However, it became noticeable that she was upset by Anton's drunken state and the lack of attention to her as a woman. Undoubtedly, the best move in this situation was to hug and support her, which I did, also touching her temple with my lips.
It was time to leave the steam room, and I was the first in the pool, and L. went there a little later when I was already waiting for her in the separate room where she had given Anton a massage before we went into the sauna. Anton, by the way, wasn't particularly eager to communicate when I nudged him. Well, okay. Coming to me, L. lay down on the cot standing there, placing her towel under herself (I didn't think about a sheet, alas, and didn't think to get a disposable one at the reception
my thoughts were only about sex). She lay down, unfortunately, on her stomach, completely depriving me of the pleasure of seeing her from the front. Seriously, just the sight of her pubis with the strip made me melt like a cat being scratched behind the ear, just not purring.
L. got up and wrapped herself in the towel, preparing to go to the table. Here I just couldn't take it anymore. Hugged her from behind, ran my hands over her body, avoiding touches below the waist for now so as not to scare her accidentally, kissed her neck. My 11 centimeters pressed against her (I use what nature and parents gave me, my women seem to be okay with it, I consider it wrong to have complexes and lie about size, definitely no reason to have complexes, I rely on skill). I turned her face to me, kissing her neck and chest again just above the edge of the towel.
— L., you see, you're blowing my mind, I want you. — I say in a hoarse whisper, my throat as if constricted.
— I see, of course, but what about Anton? With him here?
Clearly, if I don't have a confident excuse now, everything will go down the drain.
— No one will wake him until morning, believe me. I know how he drinks.
— What if he wakes up?
— Should I go and smash a bottle over his head to be sure?
I would have done that. Well, okay, okay, I wouldn't have, he's still a friend.
— Are you an idiot? Are you suggesting I cheat on him with you?
But her eyes already looked drunk with desire. As if you don't care after being let down by him.
— L., listen, well, he's completely wasted, you were upset with him about it yourself, remember? Let's just, as friends, at least purely physically give each other the pleasure we both want, and not drag anyone's relationships into this.
That was enough to calm her conscience, and L. didn't resist when I sharply but gently grabbed her by the hips, pressed her against me so she could feel the touch of my cock through my underwear against her bare slit, and carefully lowered her onto the cot. erotic stories I ended up on top, started kissing her face and chest, stroking with my hands. With one hand, I pulled off my excess clothing and pressed against the girl again. L. also pressed against me as hard as she could, it was clear she missed male attention and sex. I ran my cock over her lower lips and "bead," made sure everything inside was wet enough, added a bit of my saliva to the "main caliber weapon," and began carefully entering deeper.
Everything was going like clockwork, and I started trying to move faster and harder because I saw the lady liked it. L. held back at first, it was noticeable, she was still afraid Anton would wake up, and it would end who knows how. She didn't yet know that she was essentially indifferent to him. We continued having sex, and it was great, just fucking awesome. For several minutes, I changed the pace, depth, and angle of entry as much as possible in our position. L. either hugged me tightly or whispered "Yes, yes, yes" in moments when I tried to enter especially hard, often, and deep. The presence of an extra third person still forced us to be quieter and more careful, weighed on the girl's nerves, and spoiled the high of lively sex for both of us. The alcohol didn't add potency either, although it helped to loosen up and increased desire. Anyway, after some time, I got off L., and we went to the shower. The drunken body at the table was snoring loudly and had no intention of waking up. Well, good. We freshened up and returned to the cot.
— L., how do you feel about oral sex performed by a man?
— As a pharmacist, I feel bad about it. It's unhygienic.
What, *****?! A hygiene advocate in our depraved ranks? Better not to think at all, *****, what a zoo of microorganisms was on the cot where we just tumbled with all our heart!
— And as a woman?
— The same as a pharmacist.
Damn it, *****. Okay, thanks for that too, nothing is ever perfect. In the end, I had nothing to complain about, the evening went well, and there's every chance to continue a bit later. We lay in each other's arms for a while longer, talking and kissing, until finally, we started to pass out too. It was already past three in the morning, there was no desire to use up the remaining two and a half paid hours. I shook the one who had fallen in the battle with the green serpent, called a taxi for all of us, and half an hour later we got home. L. went to spend the night at Anton's, and I went to my place, in the neighboring building. In the morning, we didn't tell him anything. Everyone was fine with everything, and we didn't want to complicate things.
That's my first story. Thanks for your attention, for reading to the end. I'll be especially grateful for any opinion.