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My First “Threesome”

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This isn’t really a threesome, but it was my first time “involved” in receiving pleasure with the help of more than one other person. It started when I was trying to get out of my shell in college. I noticed this guy that was loud, braggadocios, gregarious, and overall just a bro; at a small campus it was hard to miss this guy in the social scene. He cross pollenated with many different groups and intermingled with every.

He’s shorter in stature but, athletic, confident, and wasn’t too bad looking. He acted like he was the big man on campus. He was so nice to everyone to a fault, so it made hating him even harder and more irrational in everyone else’s eyes, but I totally saw through his act… nice just to be liked.

He always looked past me and was very flirtatious with everyone else. I’m not sure why he didn’t pay attention to me or if I did something to make him hate me or if I wasn’t pretty enough or fun enough etc. The normal things that go through a young girls mind at that age trying to jockey for a guys attention even though I thought he wasn’t worth it. I wanted to feel worth his time. I think, for these reasons, I hated him. I can’t really tell if it was all a facade or if he actually was a really cool guy. The few times he did pay attention to me, I didn’t know if I should behave as if I wasn’t interested or if I should flirt more and be fun to encourage more interaction with him. It was intimidating so I kept an eye on him; I made sure to be in the circles he was it, but kept my distance enough not to seem like I was chasing him.

He lived in a really nice house that he could throw parties at. I played on an all girls sports team that was friendly with his friends so when the older girls got invited they would pass along the invitation to some of us younger girls. I was always left out of this intricate social dance, but I made sure the younger girls who were invited knew I wanted to go in a non-needy way.

I wasn’t sure if I was left out by the older girls because I was younger? But some of the other younger girls got invited. Or maybe it was because I wasn’t pretty enough? But I was in better shape (better body) and prettier than some of the other girls who got extended an invite. Maybe because I wasn’t cool enough or conversationally literate enough and interesting enough to help them attract guys? Or maybe I was too pretty and fun and they would lose attention from guys if I was there?

None of these particular things were true on their own. I think it was maybe a combination of not knowing everyone and maybe being a little shy. I’m about 5’6″, 120lbs, I have abs AND curves, a pretty face, and I think I get a little nervous talking with guys, but I could end up holding my own and doing well in a social setting when I want to. I chalked it up to just being out of the loop even though this fed my insecurities and, at times, made me behave a little differently than I’m normally comfortable with.

One day I expressed interest, very passingly, to my neighbor. She’s a friend, but at the time I considered her a neighbor because I didn’t want to admit that I was friends with her. I thought I was prettier, cooler, and more fun than her so I didn’t want people to associate us together for fear that she’d weigh me down on the social ladder. It was actually the other way around because she developed a reputation for being outgoing and fun.

She caught the freshman 15, wasn’t the coolest girl from high school coming into college, and a little socially awkward at first. She had huge boobs, was a little loose with the guys, and a flirtatious person who always knew the right thing to say at the right time after she got a few drinks in her. I had to listen to her insecurities, how she fakes it, and all her general bullshit so I knew better, but she had everyone else fooled. I thought I was better than her, but she got invited and I didn’t.

We joked about her boobs and her body and how she hooked up with guys; basically girl stuff. She lost her virginity to this guy and kept talking about him (which I didn’t know was my guy at the time) and began to be an annoying and clingy teenage canlı bahis girl caught up in college.

I could see why guys wanted her. We grew closer and she was just easy to hang out with; always wanted to hang out instead of study; open to trying new things. She was also easy. We got changed together a few times before heading out to parties or town bars and we become casual enough of friends to feel comfortable in our bra, panties, and even a little naked now and then, nothing too risky.

One day she asked me to grab her curling iron from her room, but I didn’t immediately see it when I walked in. I pulled a drawer to try and find it and then another then a cabinet and the medicine cabinet etc. It was too late as I heard her say: “never-mind! I found it!” I had already started to pull open her last bottom drawer. In it I saw some panties, condoms, and what looked like strange shapes – long and shaped like a curling iron, but it didn’t have a cord. I didn’t really know what to think but got nervous and quickly shut it. When I came out, she and asked why I was red in the face. I told her: “just from running around quickly to get ready.”

After that night out, we both fell asleep talking to each other. I woke up to use the bathroom and could still hear her sleeping. I was curious so I looked in her bottom drawer again. I figured if she caught me I could just say that I was drunk and it was dark and I was looking for something else by accident.

I saw the panties, condoms, and then really didn’t know what was the long shape. I pulled it out – dildo. Then something that felt like a sticky silicone string of rubber balls – anal beads. This something I’ll never forget. They kind of jiggled and wobbled and bounced and just seemed to flop back and forth. Then I saw lube, a tube of lipstick, and a larger than I’ve ever seen in real life dildo. It was white nude skin colored, big, veiny, and really thick.

As I picked it up I felt how heavy and thick it was and noticed the suction part of it at the base against the large and firm “ball sack.” I saw more toys… shiny, small, big, thick, thin, and even stick of little metallic balls inside a rubber casing with a butterfly shaped feature at the base.

Then I heard a noise – loud against the stark quiet night. I thought she was for sure going to wake up. It was the “lipstick” that was actually a vibrator. I accidentally hit the power button as I pulled out the dildo. I tried to shut it off, but have never seen one let alone tried to find the buttons on it.

In my excited, curious state I feared she’d wake up and come in to watch me handling her toys. Fake dick in one hand, vibrator in the other, wearing a look of shock, amusement, and curiosity on my face. I found the button, thank god! Shut it off and then pushed the drawer shut. In my haste, I didn’t fully place the dildo all the way in and so the drawer didn’t closer properly and I had to clumsily shove it in and place it under the drawer to close it. Every couple of days after this, I would use her bathroom and “check” on her toys.

Eventually I saw other toys in there like a long and thin bottle shaped vibrator, a round and fat vibrator, what I now know as a cock ring, a clit stimulator, a really large tentacle looking thing (which I now know as a bad dragon), a bumpy glass stick, lube – lots of lube, a silver spade looking device that fit in my palm – really heavy and shiny – I now know of it as an anal plug with a shiny diamond on the end. My mind would search for answers and heart would race every time.

After a few weeks of this I couldn’t take it any longer. I broke down. I started to use the wand of my hair brush, a glass bottle, markers, pens and pencils, even vegetables to explore myself. I was afraid to use her toys or buy my own. I had to make due. I used pillows and post and couch arms. The thrill was in knowing we would invite people over and I could think… I’m going to use that empty bottle later. Or laugh to myself thinking, if only you knew that your leaning on an armrest that I used earlier.

I got braver and braver until one day I finally broke down and bahis siteleri started to check her out. I admired her sexuality, freedom, and that she was empowered to explore her own body with her own toys. But I also grew increasingly jealous.

Why would anyone want to hook up with her when they can have me? Why does she get all the attention? Is she really that much more fun? Is she a slut? Her boobs? because she’s easy?

I became so intrigued and enamored with her that I pretended to walk in on her during the shower and after and when she was changing to just push my limits and she what she was comfortable with. She was okay with it all. I started to do this so she would think it was nothing when I caught a glimpse here and there or if we were ever naked. I wanted to encourage it as casually as possible. I wanted to be able to check her out and know her and understand how she was so comfortable sexually.

Our little friendly touches here and compliments there led to us being very comfortable with each other. I eventually got invited to the parties after my gentle suggestions to her made its way back to the older girls. By this time I was full on comfortable touching myself. I actually started to watch porn to learn. I’m by no means a pro, even to this day, but we all start somewhere.

After a few of these parties, I noticed that she was very cozy with the guy throwing them. Shit! I knew it. My gut hurt knowing that this was the guy she has been talking about. Telling me stories of how they hook up and what he says and doesn’t say/do afterwards. I knew I should have been more aggressive about coming to these things. My heart hurt a little knowing I missed my chance with him, especially to her of all people! I was embarrassed that I let it bother me so much. I went and found some drinks with other people… four loko.

I flirted with other guys thinking it would get his attention. He walked by a few times and gave me a surprised look. Maybe it was at seeing me out? In my insecurity, at the time, I thought it was a disapproving disappointed look like he thought I was a slut or something. Anyway a few weeks go by and still nothing from him. I decided to take matters into my own hands. I bumped into him at a party and spilled a drink “accidentally” to instigate a conversation. He got mad and I was embarrassed yet again that my smart plan didn’t play out.

Why did I want his approval so damn bad?

What made it worse was that he hid his anger and smiled trying to be nice about it like he was doing me a favor. What a patronizing prick! Even when he’s mad he’s nice and because he’s nice, it mad me hate him for being nice and hate myself for being mad about him being nice. Do you see how confused a young girl I was?

I followed him up stairs and down the hall to apologize and help him pick out a new shirt. He swung open the door to his room. It was dark, clean, had nice interior decoration, and even smelled nice. His closet had nice shirts hanging up neatly color coded. His room was huge. It had a balcony, bathroom and little study section. I thought to myself… this can’t be a real guy. Anyway we talked and he joked to make me feel better about it. He took off his shirt right in front of me and pretended to let me throw him a new one. He was ripped and hot. I was weak in the knees and started to feel those same feelings I got with the toys.

The party went on and I lost track of my friends and time. Some guy was rubbing up on me and got handsy when I saw my guy walk upstairs. He passed us and I thought he thinks I’m with this loser… I need to push him off and make it known that I’m available. Up the stairs I ran after him yet again. But he was a little too far ahead of me and by the time I caught up his door was closed and I was alone in the hallway. I heard people coming and didn’t want to get caught waiting outside his room so I panicked, and opened the door and walked in.

It was darker than I remembered, smelled nice still, but I was lost at this point. I was going to say something out-loud so he could hear me… like apologize again for ruining his shirt… until I bahis şirketleri heard the sound that changed my life. I heard her, my neighbor, moan. I knew it was her. I had been listening (secretly) to her moan for the last year. I got turned on knowing she used all those elaborate toys and fantasized about using them myself. I would listen through the walls sometimes putting my ear up next to it, sitting on floor of my room with just the carpet and a t-shirt under my butt to soak up my pussy juices.

It was unmistakably her voice. She was knelt down in front of him bobbing her head up and down. She must have been waiting for him up here. I waited a moment for them to “catch” me. I was frozen. When I realized they didn’t hear me and were too wrapped up in their sex to notice a figure that shouldn’t have been there. I slowly crept backwards in the dark. Retreating to the shadows of the corner and getting stuck behind a small bookshelf. I couldn’t help but feel the usual twinge between my legs. What do I say? How do I explain this?

I tripped as I backed up. Over her pants or his pants or something. I caught myself before making a noise and regained my balance. I was shocked and disoriented in more ways than one. I knelt down thinking this would help conceal my out of place figure. As I did I could feel it was her jeans and panties. I saw in the glow of the window and, still to this day, I don’t know why on earth I did this, but I pulled them out of her pant leg, lowered my nose… and raised her lacy thong up to meet my face. I inhaled. Deeply. I breathed in her scent. I figured it was okay since I physically touched her toys before.

I looked up and realized they both had their back turned to me as I crouched down and hid behind the bookcase. He was standing, she was bent over the bed. They were fully going at it. The thumping from the party’s music was relieving in that it concealed my nervousness and my breathing. How does this end? How do I sneak out? Do I wait or do it now? Are they going to cuddle after or get dressed? I figured it was better to leave before getting caught and if they saw the back of my head they wouldn’t identify me entirely. I worked up the courage to dash for the door.

Do his floors creak? What about the knob? the hallway will let light in… damn! I decided to stick it out and act like I passed out in a random room. Maybe I should use the window? It’s only the second floor. How about go for the door, but act like I was outside just opening it and stepped in… that’s believable. “Opps wrong door” I would say, “just looking for the bathroom” – I was running out of ideas and time.

I took a quick peak over and he was pulling her hair and spanking her. The sounds were jolting, sharp, and oddly kinky. I knew she was a filthy little whore. I felt myself smile and thought lets just watch listen and see what happens. They’ll probably fall asleep and I can sneak out then. Should I record this? for later? no! just stay quiet and enjoy it. I soon smelled her panties again and saw the glistening sweat on his back. He must really be giving it to her.

As quickly as this started, it was ending. He grabbed her ankles and pushed her onto the bed. She, automatically, without being told spun around stuck out her tongue. It’s like they were in sync and he grabbed her hair in the back pulled down and tilted her head up. He blew his load right on her greedily awaiting tongue.

She continued to suck him off and I just sunk deeper into the floor. They both went to the bathroom on the other side of his room and that’s when I snuck out like a thief stealing their private moment for my own memory to use later. I realized how wet I was and decided to lock myself in the bathroom next to his room. Realizing I still had her panties in my hand, I pulled down my pants and panties and just laid on the cold tile floor. Listening. After a few mins I heard them start to play again. At this time I was reaching a climax and their grunting moaning squeaking session made me jealous and turned on. I came hard.

I’ll never admit this ever. I’m still a little sick about it, but instead of putting my panties on, I used hers. I pulled them right up to my crotch and felt a weird kinkiness about her wet panties touch my bare pussy. I went home like an embarrassed horny little girl and never told anyone about this until now.

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