Archive-name: 3plus/bd-clfrn.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Close Friends Birthday "You can't go in there. They're still getting ready" I flashed him a sheepish look. He nodded and said loudly "I'm off. I should be back around midnight" so that they could hear him in the bedroom, then left. I went back to twitching in the living room. I am still not comfortable looking him in the eyes. I know that I was the one to insist that she tell him, but I never expected him to accept it. Especially not as openly as this. It's my birthday. Two married women are "getting ready" in the bedroom. Both husbands know, and neither one wants to kill me. Yet. I still think of myself as sexually deprived. At 32 (no! 33 now) these are the third and fourth women I've ever been to bed with. If you're involved with two women, then a threesome is the obvious step. Isn't it? It seemed so when she suggested it. I guess this means that the big fight I had with "B" a month ago is behind us now. I haven't been with her since then. Until she proposed this birthday gift for me. My other lover was fascinat- ed by the idea, and by the timing. I just twitch. "OK, you can go in now." I look at them. They're wearing exact- ly what they were wearing twenty minutes ago when they went in there. The room is identical to what it looked like twenty minutes ago. Who knows what "getting ready" requires in a woman. Or in two women. When I get anxious, I often hide in getting analytical. It drives some of my friends nuts. "Go ahead, take your clothes off and lie down. We'll be with you in a second." From "B". It sounds like the kind of thing "L" usually says. She knows that I'm a very direct person, more into action than symbolism. Pure Taurus. B knows that too, but never used to express it quite like that. I knew that they'd compare notes when I introduced them to each other. OK, OK, I know. I'm twitching again. This seemed like a good idea on the phone. But...Deep breath. OK. Shirt off. Socks. I leave the jeans. You'll see why in a sec. "Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday Greg Studly Happy Birthday to you!" A muffin with a sparkler for a candle. I moisten my fingers and squeeze out the flame. Nope. Would'a been a nice macho move if it had worked. sigh. The muffins go on a side table. "for later". (?) This is my thirty-third birthday. So how come I feel like a fifteen year old. "How come you're still dressed?" (B) "Both of you are still dressed..." "You have to undress us" (B) "Ditto. I know how L likes these..." The traditional annoyance crosses her face. L has hated my buttonfly jeans ever since we've been going out. Four months now. I got them because a discussion on a computer net said women loved them. Maybe not, but they're still a great tease. Well, they're gone now. I embrace B, start kissing her deeply and reach up the back of her shirt for the bra hooks. I am proud that I can unhook them one-handed, even with my little experience. Nope. She's wearing the front-hook ones today. Sigh. So much for suave and sophis- ticated. I break the clinch, and reach up the front. She lifts the shirt out of the way. I unhook one of the five or six that are there and stop. A hand on my inner thigh. I look down. L is already naked and caressing my legs. She's staying away from my action zone, I guess until she knows I'm paying attention. I look back at B. Didn't I...Right. I undo the rest of the bra and reach for a breast. L's hands appear out of nowhere and "deal with" the bra somehow. I look down. The rest of B's clothing is gone somehow. L, I guess. "OK, everyone onto the bed" (L) "Do I have to?" (grinning) "If you don't, we'll start without you." A believable threat. They're both happily bi, though B didn't realize it until I introduced her to L. One of the REASONS I introduced her to L. Oops. Getting analytical again. Instead of...they're waiting...they're lying there naked with exactly the right amount of space between them. I crawl in between them, lie on my back and put an arm under each. Kiss L. Kiss B. Now what do I do with my hands? All I can reach are backs and asses. I can't even reach either head with- out breaking an arm off. So I play with backs. And with ass- flesh. And play tongue sushi. For too long. Now what. Do I make a move, or does one of them. Finally, L heads "down". She kisses it, and moves on to kissing B where it counts. She keeps one hand moving slowly on me and uses the other with B. I've finally got a hand free, and reach for B's breast. Her nipples come up like magic. I alternate between sucking a nipple and more tongue sushi. I've finally got my right hand freed and am playing with an ear. I look down. I see L's hand on my cock, moving slowly, and a some of the rest of her. The breast that I can see has an in- tensely erected nipple. I WANNA SEE WHAT SHE'S DOING. I can't. I return to B's breasts. "Is she ready down there?" "(mumble murph) She ready." I roll back onto my back. B rolls onto me. L makes some adjust- ments then fits us together. B starts moving. I make the appro- priate counter-moves. Where is L? Must be watching. I don't see her at all. Yes. She's sitting on my ankles. I, um. Right. I rapidly hit my traditional barely-sub-orgasmic plateau and stayed there. And stayed there. Drives the women mad. Or so they tell me. I'm not too aware of the next ten minutes. L is watching us from "below", occasionally touching here, and there. I ride on the very edge of 'gasm while B comes up to the edge, to it and over. I suppress my response to her 'gasm. I'm back into awareness and need my reserves for the next part. B disengages, moves up a few inches, and lies on me. I'm enough taller that she can kiss me and leave my action zone free for L. Who has it. I'm into her mouth, and back to my sub-O'bital plateau again in an instant. B has my mouth in full action, and is playing with my chest. Time passes, but I don't notice. I'm HERE, wherever here is. And I come. Loudly, and copiously. "Awright!" (B). B rolls off of me to watch L's conclusion. L swallows a couple of times, polishes me off and moves up to kiss me. "I guess I got something for your birthday, too!" I'm sensi- tive about oral sex and they've been trying to get me to come that way for 4 months now. L is fascinated by cum and never gets enough. L has kept a hand on me while we kiss. She won't let me go soft. It's her turn next. Suddenly I'm in her and she's sitting on me. Little chunks of time seem to vanish here and there. She's kissing B and moving on me. I move B onto my face. More time lost. I experience it, but I'm not doing too well at filing it into memories. I have two hands up. One on a B cup breast, and the other on a firmer C . Somewhere above that there's kissing and facework. But I can't see it. I'm a visual person. Cunnilingus is fun, but I can't see a damn thing. And it's MY party, isn't it? I mumble something moistly and try to clear my head from under B. It doesn't work. We get a moment of mass confusion where every- thing stops while they try to figure out what I want. Oops! We settle again. L is still riding me enthusiastically, and I have a couple of my right fingers inside B. My left hand mingles with L's on B's breasts. B's hands are on L's breasts and some- where above that, tongue sushi continues. After only about a minute of this, I reach my plateau, and this time, move beyond it into explosion almost immediately. L comes with me and the group collapses into a pile of sweating, panting bodies. Rest break. I look at the clock. 11:20. An hour and 15 minutes of action. More or less. I smile. Three or four minutes pass, until everyone is breathing normally. L reaches over to the night table and hands out the cupcakes. The one that had my candle on it and two others. She and B start feeding each other little nibbles, and fingersmears of icing. Like in the movies. One's on each side of me as I lie there, looking up at them sharing a mouthful of cupcake. As they finish, I reach up to offer more cupcake, mine, just as B moves to reach for something. I smear icing over the back of her elbow. I sit up to lick it off. SPARKS! Huh? Who would put an erogenous zone on the back of the arm up from the elbow? I try again. Yup. It's there. I say something in my normal pseudo-sarcasm. L tries the other elbow. B collapses across me, with smiles. L pulls my hand to her breast, and moves in for more deep kiss- ing. L is a kiss person. B's hand is on me again. I'm UP! Already again? I break with L and crawl onto B. Into. Hmmmm...sure I'm up, but I don't have the energy anymore to DO anything with it. I start to fade. L grabs machinery from B's toy drawer and moves in. I pull out and lie beside B, sucking one nipple and playing with the other breast. L is working her up from below. I reach down and feel the dildo moving in, twist, and out. L flashes me a grin. Time passes. I leave L to manage B's needs and veg in a fog of pleasant feelings. Eventually B is done. I move over between them again and veg out again. Time passes. 12:15. I ask "When did [he] say he'd be back?" I thought that he was returning about midnight. L says "two". B just lays there smiling. The door. Keys. Well, I guess he didn't say "Two o'clock". Deep down somewhere inside, I try to worry. Guys have been shot for less. Don't have the energy to worry. B grabs a bathrobe and goes to meet him. She shuts the bedroom door on her way out. "No hurry. Relax." Relax? Me? I sit up. Nope. I sit up. I'm still lying there. OK, I concentrate. I sit up. Successfully. I ask L whether my clothes were on her side of the bed, or out in the living room. Nope. What comes out is "My, um, y'know? Did..." She is laugh- ing almost hysterically. I try again. "It's...not...Um, ah,...FUNNY!" I'm a speech oriented person. It's embarrassing whenever this happens. They both always find it funny. I have no problems arranging the sentences in my head. They just don't work when I speak them. I summon "the engineer". One of my alternate personae. "he" doesn't really participate in sex, other than to critique tech- nique or to post-analyze things. And "he" can speak afterwards. I gather my clothes and dress. Eventually. L continues to watch my efforts hysterically. I come out to the living room, trailing L. B's hubby is there. He tells me that he fixed the door on my car, more or less. He tells me that my brakes need adjusting. He tells me that I need a new gas-line filter. I mumble something at him, bow deeply at B, and leave, taking L with me. It's over. I'm now officially thirty-three. Or a teenager. Take your pick. I feel like the latter. :) -- True story. Names have been changed to protect privacy. .