Hot Girls Share #2
Don always enjoyed it but we both understood what was unsaid – that wasn’t really what we wanted. Since women were also my sexual preference, I got an extra partner, and he didn’t. Again. It was good. But I felt vaguely embarrassed after.
Those sessions, when I was with another woman without him, pricked his insecurities and he’d be really needy for days. More demanding. More sexual. Rougher.
I flipped my hand palm up, and made a ‘come here” gesture, until I found her g-spot. That flat little rough spot inside the inner wall at the top of her pussy and worked her inside and out until she fell over the edge I’d left her on.
My jaw was nearly locked up, as she flooded my hand, filled my mouth, moaning. Her thighs fell open as she quivered against me, and I counted every fucking time she clenched on my fingers.
Before Don, I’d only had a couple of unsatisfying encounters with men. I identified as bi, but really, I was more into women.
We met at a 1990s Trivia night at a local bar, and something happened in an instant. I fell in love at first sight, and he changed everything.
Kylie was shocked when I told her I had the best sex of my life, and it was with a dude.
“Like, full hetero male? With a penis?” she said, handing me a dark red slushie. We were having white trash summer. Which involved a sprinkler, two beach chairs, and a box of sangria we’d frozen and then thrown in the blender.
The sprinkler rained over us, and we had a little reprieve from the heat.
I cheersed her and nodded.
“He has hair… everywhere, Ky,” I said.
“I can’t believe you fucked a man on a first date,” she said, pulling her sunglasses down. “That’s so slutty.”
“I fuck women on first dates, what the hell?”
“You move in with women on first dates,” she said. “Maybe you’ll slow down with a dick long enough to get a full year out of a lease.”
I grabbed the sprinkler and splooshed her in the face.
She wrestled the hose from me and blasted me back.
“Ky! The drinks!”
She stopped, I dropped my sunglasses on my nose and peered over them at her.
“I can get a lease as soon as you decide to switch sides and make me settle down,” I said.
She sat down and sipped her drink.
“I don’t lease. I own, bitch,” she said and we laughed.
I reached down, not stopping my flat-tongued work on her clit, riding her through every wave, and fucked myself on my hand, still wet with her, until we both came again.
My sexual preference turned into Don.
Except, a man isn’t a woman. His skin is different, his breathing is different, the hair on his legs is different, and the way he touches me is just different. It wasn’t bad or wrong.
In the spirit of honesty, right after we were engaged, I shared that with him. He was happy to learn every lesbian trick of the trade, and while he was different, he certainly wasn’t any less.
Our honeymoon replaced our first date as the best sex I’d ever had, and most of it wasn’t penetration. It was the long slow burn, the feel of bodies sliding and moving. The touches and sounds. He fucked like a woman until I was delirious and needing a snack break, and then he fucked me like a man.
We started sharing fantasies as a sort of mental sex toy. Don and I both had the desire to have a threesome. He wasn’t comfortable with an open relationship, but he’d try open-ish. With really rigid guidelines.
“So I have a friend who knows some swingers,” I said one day over a late dinner. We were both working so much that we actually put intimacy on our calendar. We had a long weekend coming up.
“Deena, I’m not ok swapping,” he said, a bite of Pad Thai in front of his mouth.
“Yeah, I know, but they have a house, or they have a club that goes house to house, and we can just watch and you know,” I said wiggling my eyebrows.
“Honey, we can go, but my safe word is GetMeTheFuckOutOfHere.”
He whispered it in my ear when a woman with a horse tail in her ass offered to suck his cum out of my pussy.
I pushed back up her body, wet, slick, smelling like pussy.
Kylie had featured heavily in a lot of my fantasies. To be fair, she showed up in his fantasies as well, but that’s all they were, fantasies.
Fantasy was just another dildo.
But Kylie was such a common occurrence in my spank bank that she was excluded from the Hall Pass fantasy list.
Which meant she very intentionally forbidden.
And she was shirtless on my lap when he walked in.
I really fucked up.
We rolled side to side, facing each other, and I threw my leg over her waist. We were working in tandem, each reaching in with a free hand to finger fuck the other as hard and fast as possible to the next orgasm. Then the next.
I was on the couch sipping water, trying to sober up and figure my way out of this shitshow. I heard the en suite bathroom door open in our bedroom. I heard the light go on. I heard the toilet. The sink. I could almost count the steps Don would take to get to the bed.
Tears finally came.
I was moving the couch pillow from my lap so that I could go cry at Don and offer to move and beg him to forgive me when he grabbed me by the hair at the back of my head.
He pulled me, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to pull my head back over the couch.
His cock bulged in his briefs. I felt desire rear its head in my pussy.
Don wore tightie-whities and I didn’t give a shit what anyone thought, it was so fucking hot.
As per usual, he was going to be more dominant after I had a WLW experience he wasn’t secure with. I licked my lips and geared up for a face fucking or a ball worship or a whatever he fuck he wanted to feel ok again.
But then he let me go with a heavy sigh.
I turned and crawled over the back of the couch.
I pulled his forehead to mine, and I cried as his arms went around me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You love her,” he said. He was close to tears, too.
I nodded.
“Deena don’t leave me,” he said and it broke something in me so deep I could feel the crack.
“I won’t, baby, I promise, I won’t,” I said.
We pulled together in survivor’s sex. I betrayed him and he wanted me. I threatened his happiness when he worked so hard for mine.
The sex was desperate, fast, guttural and incredible. It affirmed that we still belonged to each other. He pulled me into his arms. I hid the tears as I listened to his heartbeat.
It didn’t feel like resolution.
This time, we went slow. I used a small vibe between us both until we both orgasmed before I went down on her again.
I knocked on Kylie’s door, holding Starbucks coffee and Dunkin Donuts up as a peace offering.
It was awkward on her porch. She had a Ring camera, so she knew I was there. But no smart-ass shit from the camera came through, and no immediate unlocking of the door.
She’d been my best friend since we were 12. There was no way one little kiss was going to stop that sort of chaos, right?
Right?
“Bitch, let me in!” I yelled kicking the door with the tip of my shoe.
She opened the door.
I held up the bags.
“Can I come in?”
Kylie’s silence was strange. She nodded and stood to the side.
I put the stuff on the counter and turned to her. Her arms were crossed and her shoulders hunched in. She stood a few feet from me.
Shit.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked wincing.
Don had left really early this morning. I didn’t know where we were. I do know that I probably shouldn’t have run to Kylie’s before Don and I could talk. But this was the place I came when I had shit to work through. Kylie was my person in that aspect.
“What’s there to talk about, Deena?” she said, and her voice said there was a fucking lot to talk about.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean it to…”
She grabbed the donut box and threw it at me. My hands went up defensively. A Boston Cream donut splatted against my chest and a chocolate glazed donut stuck to her refrigerator.
“You didn’t fucking mean it?” Kylie yelled.
Her face turned blotchy like it does when she’s pissed or crying.
“You didn’t fucking mean it, Deena? So then what does that make it?
You mean it every other time you kiss a bitch and fall in love the same day.
You meant it first time you kissed Don and fell in love. ”
She picked the empty donut box back up from the floor and threw it at me again.
“The only time you don’t fall immediately is when you’re using bitches at your sex clubs,” Kylie said. “So that’s what I am to you? A sex club bitch? A fucking toy to get your rocks off because you don’t know if you’re straight enough?”
I stepped back, and her tears were sudden and explosive. She was as furious with me as Don had been and I felt like throwing up.
“No, Ky, that’s not it,” I said.
“What is it then, huh?” she said. “Do I show up in your fuck talks with your husband?”
I was trapped. Just like last night when Don asked if I’d fuck her if he hadn’t come home. I talked about Kylie with Don.
“Oh my god, I do!” Kylie screamed. “Get out! Get the fuck out!”
“Can you calm the fuck down and talk to me,” I said quietly. When Kylie was mad it was best to stay calm.
“No, you kissed me, you seduced me, and said it didn’t mean anything,” Kylie said. “That’s the talk we just had.”
“Ky…”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” she said.
I backed around the kitchen island hands out, trying to hug her or anything. She slapped my hands away.
“Now!”
“Kylie! Listen to me,” I said, “I say stupid shit all the time. You know me.”
She shook her head, her dark eyes furious.
“I know you said it didn’t mean anything to you,” she said, opening her door. I stepped through it. “But it meant something to me.”
“Ky…”
She slammed the door in my face.
I knocked for 10 solid minutes, yelling at her door for her to talk to me.
Then I sat on her doorstop and texted her. She left me on read.
I got in my car and grabbed my phone when it buzzed that a text came through.
Don: Your location. You’re fucking kidding me.
Me: It’s not what you think.
Don: Nothing is what I think anymore, Deena.
Me: Don, Kylie hates me too, OK? I’m sitting in my car.
He didn’t reply.
He didn’t need to.