Running into a former lover and her partner today has me horny. Thoughts of them on my mind, just our group hug has me wanting to be sandwiched between them again. The playful poly partnerships, sometimes in two, threes, all fours. I am home, desperate for some relief. Remembering a night I shared with her and my former partner as I am alone now looking to quell the horniness.
That night, I did not know if I'd walk in on them sucking or fucking. Both were hot to me and I was ready to find out. I had planned this encounter. I told him they should go out on a date and let me know when they got home. I said I would wait an hour or so and would let myself in with the key. I wanted to watch.
I had gotten the signal and taken a shower, taking my time. I walked the 8 blocks to his house from mine. I walked up the stairs, inserted the key in the keyhole. Before I turned it, I paused. I thought I heard the sound of their gutteral groans. Writing this, I separate my legs a bit wider, my clit perks up, I put my finger down to calm it. Dear reader, I am writing this by hand with my right hand. Just the thought of being at the doorway has me slightly hardened, reddened, aroused. The skin just to the left of my white hip-cut boy-shorts is tender and soft. As I stroke it, my clit too feels soothed.
I turned the key and opened the door and stepped inside. I heard her "come here" and his deeper moan. I breathed deeply. I was excited and nervous. I did not know what I'd see. I heard sheets rustling, made out the sounds of kissing, of grabbing, of carnal pleasure. I felt a heat in me. I imagined them naked. I wondered if she had him in her mouth, kneeling on the ground. I wondered if they were fucking on the table, if he was suckling her wet and warm pussy. I breathed deeply. I felt my fast heartbeat descend and soon my nipples agitated my clothing.
As I lie here, writing, I am wearing a white lacy bra. Pen in my hand, I take the right nipple with my left fingers and hold it, squeeze it. I run my hand over the space between my breasts, the mounds that emerge over the side of my bra. My skin is brown in contrast to the whiteness. I find my body very sexy. I squeeze my ass and look at the goosebumps riding up my legs. I think back to that night.
I took off my jacket, dropped it on the floor. I took off my sweater, my t-shirt over my head, dropped them on the floor. I undid my bra. I could hear more moaning and groaning and all of my body ached. My cunt, my lips, my ass, all wanted to feast on what I knew was in store. I struggled with my pants and my socks, rushed to get them off, discarded them as I made my way down the hallway.
When I walked into the main room, I was struck by the beauty of their two naked bodies. His brown and warm, hers white and light. I saw him and fell in love again instantly like I had over the past year, for his beautiful body and spirit, who shared of himself so freely with me, with her. I was mesmerized.
Here at home, I'm in front of the fire now to heat my body from the outside, pen in hand. There are mirrors on the floor so I can see my own ass, propped up on a pillow, rubbing my hips slowly back and forth, side to side. I take off my bra, am immediately hot, and my nipples graze the pillow, tickling, turning me on. The same way I watched him take her, I watch myself in the mirror, our brown bodies spitting images back -- him to me, then to now.