Homework Assignment

She's so cute when she's mad.

Well, maybe "mad" isn't the right word.

Stevie and I have been sleeping together for a couple months-"trading vag," as she calls it. I'd never heard the expression before her. Maybe she made it up.

She's a baby queer. Young and green. I'm getting off on the mentor-mentee dynamic, but we are getting to the point where a lot of my longer-term fuckbuddy relationships tend to fizzle out.

Or blow up.

I like to fuck. I fuck everybody. I couldn't put a figure on how many orgasms I've given. You might as well ask Santa how many gifts he's given.

I've swallowed more semen than the ocean. I've had more people inside me than the Coliseum.

I've made clear from the beginning, as I always do, that I don't do exclusive. And they always say they're on board with it.

Stevie does not fuck everybody. She only fucks me.

It's not my preference-I've urged her many times to get out there and sow her wild oats and not limit herself to little old me-but it's how she wants it.

And tonight, over dinner, for the second time in as many weeks, she asked me the silliest question in the world:

"What are we?"

I'll decode this.

"What are we?" means "Are you my girlfriend?"

Which means "Am I special to you in a way that all those other people aren't?"

Which means "Is there a chance you'll stop sleeping around and restrict your sexual appetites to me, just me, exclusively?"

She knows, in the abstract, that I'm a huge slut. She knows that I like being a huge slut. I don't tell her the details of my sex life, mainly because she doesn't ask. I don't think she wants to know.

If she did ask, I'd tell her that I've had sex with a different person every night over the past week. And that's not uncommon.

Last night, I brought a jock home from one of the undergrad bars. He ate my asshole like a champ. I rewarded him by draining the contents of his balls into my stomach.

The night before was drag night at one of the queer bars. While I waited for a drink, a hot guy struck up a conversation. I thought he was gay at first, until he introduced me to his girlfriend.

At his suggestion, she and I had sex on the smokers' patio. He stood between us and the door-not hiding us, but deterring anyone from getting too close. I finger-fucked her underneath her skirt.

I never miss drag night.

The night before that... well, you get the idea.

Tonight, Stevie and I are at the beginning of our usual date of dinner, drinks, and fucking.

We're a few beers in when she asks:

"What are we?"

I debate giving her the usual answer.

I might tell her, "I really like you and I don't mind dating, but I'm not the exclusive type."

Or I might say, "I understand why you're asking, and I think what we have right now is great."

Or I might laugh it off with a joke. "You're going to have to sleep with a lot more sluts before you and I are even. I know some I can introduce you to."

As I open my mouth to speak, I pause.

That's really not a bad idea.

"Listen," I say, still formulating how to broach this subject.

I can already see in her face that I've just primed her to expect bad news. So I hurry.

"I know I've suggested that you try sleeping around," I say carefully. "That I believe it would be good for you to have that experience, and it might help you understand me better."

She nods, clearly confused.

I continue. "I like being around you, and you're turning into a really good lay. I can see us keeping this going for a long time."

Still confusion.

Okay.

I pull out my phone.

"I want to make this happen," I say, scrolling through the contacts. "By this time next week, I want you to have slept with someone who isn't me."

"Okay," she says.

Her vocal tone and her facial expression are completely flat.

Either she's mad as hell, or I've just laid something on her so unexpected that she can't formulate a response.

...God, I'd fuck her right here on this table, in this shitty restaurant, with all the patrons and staff watching.

Young, clueless queer women are my greatest weakness.

I contemplate telling her to pound the rest of her beer so we can head out to the parking lot.

But there's business to attend to.

I indicate my phone and say, "I've got lots of queer women in here I can vouch for. Any one of them would gladly spend a night with you. You'd have your pick of them.

Hesitantly, she says, "How about a guy?"

I pause, nonplussed.

This, I didn't expect.

For as long as I've known her, she's been utterly disinterested in men. Whether cis, trans, or elsewhere in the spectrum, her preferences and her scant handful of experiences have been with women.

She studies my face, and clarifies, "I'm still not really interested in dick. But if I'm going to broaden my horizons, I should broaden my horizons. Right?"

I nod.

We scoot together and we look through my contacts together. She selects a guy whom I wouldn't have picked for her. But she seems pretty confident.

She says, "Tell me about this one."

She's stopped at Mick.

"He's strong," I tell her. "He can throw you around, if that's what you're into. He likes to dom, but not exclusively. Really sweet guy, too."

"What about his..." she says, miming with her hands.

"His cock is big. And it's beautiful, as cocks go."

"Does he know what to do with someone who don't really have experience with men?"

"He knows how to take it slow, and he's enthusiastic about other kinds of sex besides PIV. If that's what you're asking."

"It is."

I open my messaging app.

"Shall I?" I say.

"Yeah," she says.

I type up a quick message, explaining the situation.

"When should we ask to set a date for?" I ask her.

"Why not tonight?" she says.

Her teeth are a little more set than usual. She's feeling challenged.

I briefly wonder if this is a bad idea, if she's only agreeing to this to test me. Maybe she thinks I'm not being serious, and this is her way of trying to get it to backfire on me.

Nevertheless, I send the message.

I explain to Mick, in so many words, that this fresh-faced queer ingenue I've been fucking is ready for her first experience with a man, and she wants it to be with him.

Unsurprisingly, he messages us back almost right away.

We pound the rest of our beers and we leave.

Mick lives in a not-too-shabby apartment about five minutes away.

We walk up to the door. I knock, and he opens.

He's about a full head taller than me, and half a head again taller than her. I think he narrowly outweighs me, but he's tall and heavily muscled, like a farmboy, whereas I'm average height and fat.

He's easily twice the size of short, slightly small-fat Stevie.

He embraces me on sight. We kiss, a loveless, unchaste kiss. I feel his hand on the rear pocket of my blue jeans, and I feel Stevie's hot eyes upon us.

After our mouths part, I make hasty introductions. Mick invites us in and closes the door behind us.

I glance at Stevie's face. If she's nervous or angry, she's doing her best not to show it.

For a moment, the three of us just stand there in the middle of the room. I get tired of waiting and decide to make myself at home on the couch.

"Can I offer you two a drink?" he says in his low, velvety voice.

I'm about to accept on our behalf, but Stevie stops me.

"Why don't we skip that part?" she says, looking up into his face.

He shrugs, and he leans down and kisses her.

It's a spitty, horny kiss. Their lips open. Hands grasp hips and pelvises start grinding.

I watch, transfixed. I'm already wet.

When the kiss breaks, they glance at me.

"Do you want to watch?" she asks me.

I can't tell if it's a challenge or a request.

"No, babe," I say, "you two go on ahead."

He nods, then she nods. Then they disappear down the hall. I hear his bedroom door close.

For the next hour or so, I'm alone with my thoughts.

I don't hear any of what they're doing-but then, I know firsthand how soundproof that room is.

I start to entertain myself on my phone. After a while, I put it down. I'm having a hard time keeping myself occupied.

I keep drifting back to the couple in the bedroom.

What are they up to?

He'll eat her pussy, of course. That's what she's most used to.

I've introduced her to analingus recently, both giving and receiving, and she isn't opposed to either one. I'd dare say she's warming up to it.

I know Mick enjoys both.

God, this is making me horny.

She's not big on being penetrated. But, as she says, this is a chance to broaden her horizons. He has long, strong fingers-they've given me plenty of G-spot orgasms.

Would she let him finger-fuck her?

As I stare at the hallway, into the drapery of shadows that hides the bedroom at the other end, I've unconsciously parted my knees. My hand steals its way unbidden between my legs, over the fly of my jeans.

It doesn't occur to me until I'm already doing it that I'm masturbating-applying a pleasant pulsating pressure with the pads of my fingers, pleasuring my hungry vulva through layers of denim armor.

She's never sucked a cock in her life. But he loves getting his cock sucked and isn't shy about suggesting it. Will he bring it up with her? Would she be game?

She would. At least, the Stevie who currently exists in my mind's eye.

In my mind's eye, he stands before her, nude, a thickly built adonis. She kneels before him, also nude, her pale country girl ass sitting back on her callused heels, her knees already pink from the carpet.

In my mind's eye, she takes his massive cock in her petite hand and guides the head of it into her open mouth. She suckles him, hesitantly at first, then with a deepening enthusiasm.

He moans his familiar moan, signalling his appreciation.

I kick off my shoes, peel off my jeans and athletic boyshort panties, and plant my bare ass on the edge of the couch. I get a foot up on the cushion, splaying my thighs.

My hand traces a path under my belly roll, over my dark bush, my thick labia. Delicate pearls of fluid well up there; they break to the touch and cling to my fingertips.

Mick's living room couch is the site of who knows how many sexual encounters, a piece of furniture painted at one time or another in the energies, memories, and fluids of every flavor of human sexuality.

There's always room for one more.

With visions of Mick and Stevie dancing through my head, I make slow circles on my vulva with the pads of my fingers, pressing just hard enough to spread the rippled lips, smearing them in gooey secretions.

I let my head loll back. The pure, simple pleasure is my reward. But it also urges me on.

If she's brave, she'll tell him about her nipples. They're both pierced; she has a straight barbell in each one. They're gloriously responsive.

Or maybe he'll discover that on his own.

I'm jilling in earnest. My body thrums. My hand makes rhythmic squishing sounds on my engorged vulva, greased by a coating of thick girlcum.

Feeling very warm, I move up to my prominent purple clit.

She was curious about his size.

I know she wants to know what it's like to have him in her.

Surely, they'll at least try.

Suffused with horniness and spurred by fantasies of Stevie taking her first cock behind the bedroom door, with me waiting for her just outside, I climb swiftly towards orgasm.

Her spreading her legs, him gripping her thighs tight enough to make little divots with his thumbs. Her wincing at the unfamiliar fullness, him taking her slowly in deference to her inexperience-

-her in that strange mix of wanting it to stop and wanting to keep going, him humping away at her before withdrawing and spilling thick cum on her soft belly, her egging him on as each rope leaps out-

-ugh-

The heat radiates inside me, my toes curl. My middle convulses with the throes of orgasm, my big bare ass sweating warmly into the coarse fabric of the cushions.

Masturbation could never be as good as her, or him. But it's shockingly intensified by the mental image of them with each other, my two fornicating lovers just on the other side of that door.

Later, I'll wonder if the reality of watching them could possibly top to my most creative imaginings. I suspect it could. One day, I aim to find out.

The orgasm subsides, and I come to.

I'm still here alone. They're still in the bedroom, doing no doubt lovely things to each other. I'm suddenly aware of my unauthorized pantlessness on his couch. The tips of my ears are still warm.

I get up, go to the kitchen, and wash the girlcum off my hands. I do an awkward job of wiping down my sticky vulva with my fingertips and wash my hands a second time, self-conscious despite my solitude.

Then I return to the couch, gather my crumpled clothes, and dress myself.

I've been playing around on my phone long enough to refresh all my social media pages multiple times, when I hear the bedroom door open.

She comes down the hall, into the dim lamplight, him just behind her. They're saying something quietly to one another, smiling, laughing, sharing some private joke just between the two of them.

I don't need to know. I want to, but I don't need to.

She can tell me whatever she wants-I would certainly tell her, in sensory detail-but she also has a right to the things that are just for her.

Her hair is wet, and so is his.

He has a master bathroom that's only accessible from his bedroom. I've showered there post-sex more times than I can remember, often with him in there with me.

-lube and cum sluicing over soft skin, percolating around the drain, fingertips gliding over breasts and genitals and assholes on a cloud of moisture and body soap-

Stevie and I don't stay long. The three of us say our goodbyes with little ceremony.

On our way out, they kiss each other, a relaxed, friendly kiss, bodies pressed together, layered with a newly comfortable intimacy.

Then he turns to me, gathers me in his big, strong arms, and kisses me.

Up close, his mouth smells strongly of her pussy. I smile privately against his lips.

Stevie and I don't say anything in the rideshare back to my place.

I've never wanted to fuck her more badly. I don't know if I could describe just how much tonight turned me on.

Going by the vibe she's giving off, I think I might just get lucky.

As we make our way up my front walk, she's the first to break the silence.

Impishly, she says, "On our way out, I noticed a wet spot on the couch. What's that about?"

~THE END~