My Initiation Pt. 03

"Sure."

"Good. There'll be plenty of that. With Andrea, you can fuck her ass and then put it in her mouth and she clean her ass off it completely. She's insatiable. Fuck! Makes me hard thinking about it." It had. That impressive bulge was very apparent against the tight material of his stonewashed jean.

"I look forward to meeting her. Do you think she'll like me?"

"I would say yes. But she can surprise me at times. She knows what she wants, so if she wants some of you, she'll let you know. Hey, mind if I have a quick piss?"

"Your house, mate."

He removed his cock from his jeans. It hung down in its semi-erect state, almost as round as his wife's forearm. There was a pause before a heavy stream clattered into the toilet bowl, echoing outward. His eyes were closed and his head slightly set back. I was mesmerised by the piss leaving his urethra. The steady, strong stream of clear liquid. My erections had abated before he started to relieve himself, now it was rising through the soapy bathwaters again. He flung a few lingering drops into the pan - it was like waving a large uncooked sausage around - before flushing and washing his hands. "See you downstairs, man."

The man was an addict. Sex consumed him. I'd heard a story about how he'd been given a final warning from the top bosses about his compulsive shagging during business hours with company clients. After seducing the daughter of an important client while on a business trip in Italy he'd been called to the top floor and told that he was no longer a young man in Silicon Valley free to fuck whoever he wanted. Business was business and business was good. Keep it holstered and he had a future. Piss off another big investor by debasing his daughter (that scene involved a dog leash, a champagne bottle and a tub of coconut butter) and he'd have no position at Coratec Industries. He's wasn't the only charmer they could find to grease and seal big money deals.

These are the stories I'd heard, which is why his story earlier hadn't rung true with me.

He reigned himself in for a while. Then he met Michelle. And if he had met a like-minded person who enjoyed extra-marital fun, he was oblivious to the fact that Michelle, more reserved and conventional than him, perhaps wanted to calm down their foot-loose-and-fancy-free fuckery. Maybe she'd thought she'd had her fun and now she wanted to settle, perhaps with the occasional fling with someone like myself. But ass-to-mouth sex with a bipolar German dancer was maybe an extreme she wanted to ease herself away from. Whereas Brad was hooked on it all.

Just as I finished getting dressed, I heard the doorbell chime. Brad answered the door and, although I couldn't hear what was said, there was a lot of laughter. I waited a few moments to allow them time to finished their greetings before descending.

Before entering the kitchen, I heard Andrea's heavy German accent. She was telling an anecdote about a recent party and her voice became high and shrill. She had her back to me when I stood in the kitchen doorway. Brad and Michelle were facing me and their expressions were the glazed smiles of people not prepared for such an exuberant performance. Andrea bent forward laughing. She had the powerful, shapely legs of a dancer. Round, toned calves, defined hamstrings and a slightly oversized bum that looked as firm as a fresh mango. She swivelled round when she followed Michelle's eyes. She looked quizzically at me before smiling and extending her hand. "Helllooo. I'm Andrea."

She had small breasts and she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were hard nubs underneath the white material of his t-shirt. She was attractive, but her features were severe. A large, defined nose, a jutting chin. Her long brown hair was held in a pony tail that extended to her mid-back. Her nose and tongue were pierced. There was a slightly maniacal glint in her eye, as though she were on something. She bristled with energy and intent. She made me feel anxious. I wanted to move next to Michelle, but she wouldn't release my hand as we exchanged our pleasantries.

"Brad, Michelle, you're keeping attractive young men as guests now? Have they shown you their dungeon yet, Jack?" Her voice altered between attractive husk and wincing shrill. 'They' came out as 'zey', their as 'zer'.

"Not yet. Maybe in time," I replied, spying an opportunity to move closer to Michelle who was smiling through it all but who sat deflated with her shoulders hunched. Michelle placed her hand on my thigh, a movement that seemed both possessive and to give herself a small piece of comfort.

"Very good," said Andrea. "I've known these two for so long. They're wonderful. But keep an eye on this one." She was pointing at Brad and looking at him with squinting eyes. "He's a very bad man." She began laughing again while holding her stomach. Rather than being embarrassed by her statement, Brad was beaming. That same rapacious look clouded his face. His eyes were full of lust.

"You've taught me a thing or two, Andrea!"

I asked the obvious question: "Where did you all meet?"

"Oh, through friends," Andrea said, not even bothering to cover up the lie. "Brad and I go back a long way."

It was as though they were having their own conversation. Andrea walked over to Brad and kissed him. She rested her hand on his bulge and squeezed. Their kiss was sloppy, bestial. There was a powerful attraction between them. They were now locked together, like extremely powerful magnets, and it was difficult to see how we would begin to pry them apart.

"Shall we go and sit in the living room, gang?" suggested Brad. He had Andrea's breast in his hand and the other one on the back of her hand that was stroking his cock through his jeans. Andrea led Brad out of the kitchen by placing her hands over his that was clutching her breast and pinching a ferociously hard nipple. "Michelle, babe, grab the vodka."

Michelle gave him a mock salute. "Yes, sir." Resolved to her momentary part as a bit character, Michelle went and grabbed the bottle of vodka. She picked a chocolate from the open box and said: "Not that he'll drink it. He'll be face deep in her ass by now. She's all about the ass, if that's your thing, Jack?"

"You know what's my thing?"

"Hmm?"

"You." I grabbed her and pulled her into me and kissed her hard. She'd selected a caramel chocolate. We swirled our tongues around each other's mouths. I grabbed her ass, flabby and wider than Andrea's, but that's what I prefer. All that toned muscle had its appeal, but I liked a woman with a bit of wobble to her. I could squeeze it and dig my fingers into it, which I did. Michelle responded with a sigh and a giggle.

"I'm dangerously into you, Jack."

"I feel the same."

"It's not just fucking you. It's you. You're so suave." She laughed. "That's sound naff. What do I mean? I mean: cool."

"Not something I've been accused of in the past. Michelle." I cleared my throat and lowered my voice a decibel. "I'm really into you. I want to see you alone soon, away from here. I was to do everything with you in a nice hotel room all night long. Then I want to go to sleep beside you and do it all again before breakfast."

"Oh, Jack. Let's make it happen!"

"When?"

"Soon, soon."

"What's going on?" That 'what's' came out at 'vatz'. Andrea was in the doorway smiling. She, or Brad, had removed her t-shirt. Her skin was pale. She had two tattoos: a line of script around her waist and a silhouette of two tango dancers below her right breast. Her stomach was flat as an Olympian hurdler's, the compartments of her abdominals visible. A silver stud glistened in her belly button. Her breasts were bigger than I'd realised. I think they must've seemed smaller because her nipples were so large. Her face was red and many strands of her hair had broken free of her band. She was brimming with sexual intent, and the for the first time since I'd met her, she started to arouse me. Something about her demeanour, her way of looking deeply into your eyes, promised a sexual being who would leave you with a few stories to tell...and maybe a scar to show.

She noticed me ogling her tits. She raised her hands to the objects of my attention, cupped them, raised them and squeezed, making sure those thimble-like nipples were exposed the gap between her thumb and forefinger. I swallowed. Like a basement furnace that needs to be fed to heat a building, my lust, nothing romantic as desire, but fiery, compulsive lust, was fed the sight of her striking body and a handful of Michelle's chunky ass. My internal fire was stoked. Any lingering thoughts about a presentation I had to give the following week, disappeared; as did my weekly football match; a coffee date with a girl I'd met on the train; friends, family, foes; a door was firmly shut on everything and wouldn't be opened until the dust had settled after the next session of sexual abandon: my first foursome, a mere three hours since the beginning of my first threesome.