When I was twenty, I worked in a pub in the next town for extra money. Just Friday and Saturday nights. I started as a glass collector, but when I turned eighteen, I began to serve at the bar. It was a big square bar in the middle of the pub, one continuous counter with only one opening at one end. This meant that you could serve customers on one side while blokes could enjoy the view of your bum from the other side. I know that I had a good bum, and I didn't mind the flirting. Although my big boobs could sometimes be a problem. They certainly helped me get tips, tips for tits, I suppose. I was young, free and single, and I had a few adventures, too many to tell now, but I will tell you about the best of all.
This bloke Andy had been flirting with me for weeks. He was my age, very cute with floppy hair. He always wore this leather jacket, come rain or shine. I decided I quite fancied my leather jacket guy. One Friday night, he asked if I'd go back to his. At first, I said no, but just after the last orders, I relented and told him to wait in the car park while we divided up the tips. Andy was waiting in his white van for me. He was a painter and decorator; for an awful second, I was worried he would ask me to climb in the back with his ladders, brushes and rollers. In truth, there was only one of his rollers I was interested in. Andy told me that he still lived with his mum and stepdad. They were away for the weekend so that we would have the house to ourselves.
It was a lovely house, his Mum had good taste. I liked the décor. Andy poured us a glass of wine and joined me on the sofa. We were soon undressing each other. He was a bit of a disappointing kisser, if I'm honest, but I put it down to nerves. Anyway, I was distracted by the body under that leather jacket. He had a lean, finely muscled torso. After kissing some more, we stood up, and I started to kiss my way down his body, lightly licking his nipples and putting kisses across his stomach muscles. I followed the dark line of hair that started at his belly button till I reached my target. He was so hard, and it pointed straight up. I had to lift it away from his body. I pushed him back on the sofa, and as I took him in my mouth, he moaned so loudly I thought he might come then and there. I decided to go gently at first, teasing him with light and then firmer kisses. Licking him up and down his shaft. I suppose I was edging him, though, at the time, I had never heard that term.
He was getting into it so much that I didn't hear the door open. I had only just sensed that somebody was behind me when I turned to see a handsome guy about my age with the cheekiest grin I'd ever seen standing behind me.
"Kev - bloody hell!" shouted Andy.
"Sorry, love, no offence. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I couldn't resist watching. You look good enough to eat; you are bloody gorgeous."
By then, I had retired to a chair and held a cushion over myself.
"Nat, this is my stepbrother Kev. I thought he was staying at university this weekend."
"I was bud, but I was bored, so I thought I'd come home and see if anything more exciting was happening. It turns out I was right," he grinned.
"Well, it was just getting good and then you ruined it," whined Andy.
"Well," said Kev, smiling at me, "We could always share, Andy, like good brothers do."
God, he was cheeky. He was tall and broad, with dark wavy hair curling over the collar of his rugby shirt. I looked at them both and made a split decision. "Look, I've never done anything like this, but I like a bit of fun and think you're both cute if you promise not to tell."
"Our lips are sealed," smiled Andy.
Kev didn't need telling twice. I'd barely agreed, and he was down to nothing but his white socks. Many women will tell you that men naked in socks are a turn-off. I'm the opposite. There's something very sexy about a man naked in his socks. I think it might be that as a teenager, I went to the ladies toilets of the local Italian restaurant. There was a picture of a man in just his socks. It came at the time that I was showing interest in sex. That might be why.
So, Kev, naked in his socks, with his muscular hairy legs and big shoulders, couldn't have turned me on more if he had tried. More than Andy, if I was going to be honest. There was something about his confidence and that cheeky smile. I don't think I had ever been so wet before.
Soon, I was back on the settee in the same position, licking Andy whilst Kev licked me. He was a master at that. I don't know what he studied at university, but he could get a master's in performing oral. I could feel moisture dripping as he licked and caressed me with his tongue.
