The Three Amigos

"Fuck, that's hot, Catherine," Chris enthused.

My body agreed with Chris's sentiments. While telling the story, my nipples had puckered while my pussy churned and throbbed. It was about three o'clock; I'd already drunk several pina coladas and was feeling good. I turned onto my back, opened my thighs and, with both knees bent, let the sun pound on my distended vulva while I absorbed the sumptuous sensations.

Chris moaned, "Fuck, I like when you do that, Catherine."

"Do what, Chris?" I teased, knowing full well to what he was referring.

Chris moved his mouth next to my ear and whispered, "I like when you open your legs and flaunt your juicy cunt."

"I'm glad you like, because I like doing it," I murmured.

Three men were walking along the shore towards us, so I shut my thighs.

"Chicken!" dared Chris, "Come on, you know you want to."

He was right: I did want to. So I eased apart my knees, trying to make it look unintentional. Once my thighs were spread, I lay there presenting my pussy to the three men while Chris gave me a play-by-play, telling me that they were looking. My cunt boiled with arousal but, unlike the other day, I resisted touching myself. After a minute or so, I shut my thighs and rolled onto my side facing Chris. The men eventually walked on.

"Phew," I panted, "I think we should go back to our room, Chris." I was itching with lust.

My husband offered no argument, so we hurriedly collected our belongings to retreat to our sanctuary. I didn't even bother wearing my thong but simply slipped into my kimono, leaving it untied, and placed my feet into my cork wedge sandals. It was wickedly naughty traversing that way back to our room.

When we'd returned to our cabana, Chris attacked me, throwing me onto the bed. I giggled at first but soon my laughter turned to moans of delight when he vigorously began to lick me, priming my pussy. He sucked on my clit bringing me oh-so-close but cruelly backed off before I came, driving me wild. I was so distressed that it took me a second to realise that Chris had gone to his suitcase. He searched briefly then stood and approached me, holding one of my vibrators from home. I had no idea that he'd even packed the long, thick, cock-like toy.

"You packed 'Mr Big'?" I laughed with surprise. "You were brave, bringing that thing through customs."

He smiled but said nothing in response. Chris knelt next to me and turned it on. The buzzing, moaning tone of the vibrator filled the room with anticipation, and soon he positioned the toy against one of my aching nipples. Meanwhile, with his cock he painted his precum fluid around and around my other nipple. It was pure bliss.

Eventually, the synthetic cock and my husband's penis parted ways, with the vibrator inching towards my wetness and Chris's hardness towards my mouth. I lay in surrender and expectation, sensing the cool flutters of the toy across my abdomen and the heat and stiffness of my husband's flesh and blood against my neck.

Chris's cock reached its goal first, and I eagerly opened my mouth. He was warm, hard and delicious; I wasted no time in sucking it deeply.

The vibrator, however, dawdled on the outside of my pussy, tormenting me to wantonness. I longed for it to invade and stretch me. My legs rose off the bed, and, with my knees apart and to my chest, I offered my sopping pussy to 'Mr Big'. Chris placed the tip just inside me, and my hips rose to meet it. God, I was silently screaming for it to sink into me. Mercifully, Chris's teasing was short lived. He pushed it a little deeper, and I moaned in decadent pleasure, the thickness of the toy stretching and filling my burning cunt.

Oh God, it was fabulous, and it spurred me to draw on my husband's shaft with increased fervour. As I simultaneously sucked and fucked, my fingers tugged my nipples, giving me triple sensations. But Chris soon took my hand and guided it to the vibrator.

"I want to watch you fuck yourself while you suck me," he gasped.

I took control of it and immediately began spearing myself with short, quick thrusts, progressively burrowing the large plastic cock with each stab, all while Chris knelt over me and fed me his savoury erection.

I was in Heaven! The full length of the vibrator was now encased within me, filling my greedy cunt and gently tapping my cervix as I humped my hips.

Chris moaned and began his sweet, dirty talk.

"I love how you push the vibrator deep while you suck me. You like that, don't you, getting fucked and sucking cock at the same time?"

I removed him from my mouth, rubbed his erection over my face and purred, "Yes, I like it."

"What do you like, Catherine? Spell it out."

I knew Chris loved hearing me talk dirty, but I placed him back in my mouth and sucked furiously. As I suckled him, I started thrusting the toy with long, speedy strokes, angling it up, down, sideways, all in an attempt to soothe the blaze in my cunt.

Chris's moans were music to my ears, so I removed his cock and growled, "Yeah, I love sucking a hot cock while another one fucks my soaking pussy."

Then I quickly resumed mouthing him, his slick dick gliding between my lips while I manipulated the thick toy with one hand and rubbed my clit with my other. I knew I would cum soon, and I wanted to climax with Chris in my mouth, preferably with our orgasms coinciding.

"Have you ever done it for real?" Chris asked.

My orgasm exploded suddenly, without warning, radiating from both my clit and deep in my pussy, causing me to moan and spasm while my mouth remained locked on Chris's cock.

"Fuck, Catherine, you look so nasty and slutty, cumming like that. You have, haven't you?"

After I'd calmed, I licked the underside of his shaft and enjoyed the little tremors reverberating in my pussy. I hadn't planned on telling him this story. It was my dirty, little secret, so I again preoccupied my mouth with his cock.

"Have you, baby? Have you fucked more than one guy at a time?"

The blasts of my orgasm were subsiding, but I wanted more. The vibrator, still embedded deep in my cunt, was now motionless while it buzzed inside me; a torrent of my orgasmic secretions seeped out and down my bum, tickling my anus. And Chris's cock was so hard and edible. I tried to ignore his question and concentrated on the delights of my husband's cock, 'Mr. Big', and a potential successive orgasm.

But my husband continued his inquiry. I raised his balls up to my mouth and kissed each one for several seconds while his saliva-soaked shaft rested against my nose and forehead. Another orgasm was brewing as I debated whether to tell him about that episode in my life.

I went back to sucking him, relishing the sweet pre-cum that leaked from his penis. But Chris persisted.

"Tell me, Catherine. Fuck, I think you're so hot. Tell me if you've ever had two men at once. Have you? What did you mean yesterday when you said that some guys were scared of their own cum, never mind someone else's?"

"Shit!" I exclaimed to myself.

Chris had obviously picked up my blunder from the previous day's story telling. Yet, strangely, knowing that Chris had deciphered my slip-of-the-tongue had me surging towards another climax. Crazy, lascivious thoughts gyrated in my head as I absorbed the penetration of both the vibrator and Chris's rigid penis. The sensations overwhelmed me, so before I knew it, I confessed by nodding in assent to his persistent quizzing, all while my mouth remained clamped on his cock as tremor after tremor rose throughout my body.

As soon as I had acknowledged Chris's inquiries, my husband made some guttural sounds through clenched teeth, pulled out of my mouth and erupted, decorating my face, hair and breasts with his white, hot ejecta. I tried re-grasping his spurting cock with my mouth but only succeeded to get his dying pumps on my chin and lips.

His fire fountain of cum coupled with both my admission and my finger rapidly twirling over my clit with 'Mr Big' still stuffed inside my pussy caused me to detonate once more. I could only manage to tilt my head back and cry with incomprehensible ecstasy as the shock waves rebounded and refracted within my body.

"Fuck, that was good!" Chris finally exhaled, collapsing beside me. "Shit, Catherine, that makes me so hot! You have to tell me about it!"

I said nothing. I was still catching my breath from cumming so strongly, but I was in turmoil over my confession. This was the one story that I couldn't possibly tell Chris. Yet I knew that I now had no choice but to narrate it all.

Chris gave me a long, wet kiss, then got up and went to the dresser to retrieve a bottle of tequila and two shot glasses. He came back with them, sat on the bed next to me and smiled. His penis was still enlarged, with the foreskin fully pulled back showing the thick head in all its beauty, shimmering in the light from the sheen of my saliva. I watched his dick progressively deflate. God, he had such a yummy cock.

"I picked this up at the palapa bar," he informed me, holding the bottle. "So," he said while pouring the tequila, "I'm all ears."

I took his offered shot glass and poured it down my throat. The alcohol burned like a river of lava, running into my belly, fortifying me. Chris refilled my glass, and I again threw it back and found that my nerve intensified.

I looked at him.

"You really want to hear this? I'm not so sure this is a good idea, Chris."

"Oh baby, I need to hear it all—all the juicy details!"

"Oh, it got juicy all right," I murmured.

"Good!" exclaimed Chris, beaming from ear to ear. He was like an eight-year old kid about to watch three episodes of Spiderman.

"Want some popcorn?" I asked somewhat sarcastically as I held out my glass for a top up.

"Huh?" said Chris in obvious confusion.

"Never mind," I sighed, and downed my refilled glass.

The booze really did embolden me, so I decided to tell it all, damn the consequences. "Anyway, why should I feel any shame about it?" I reasoned with myself. "Chris bloody well coerced it out of me, so he'll bloody well have to deal with it. God, the tequila is making me feel good!"

"Well," I began, "I'd been in Sydney for about three years, doing my degree. I was burning out and needed a break, so I took a month off and came back for a visit. That also gave me chance to escape Australian winter. I'm sure I've told you about their lack of central heating. If it was five degrees outside, it was five degrees inside. Brutal.

"So I returned to Canada in summer, August, to visit family and friends and, mostly, to recharge my batteries before writing the bulk of my thesis. The whole Ph.D. thing had me stressed; I just wanted to get away from it for a while. Would you please pass me the box of tissue?"

Chris, momentarily caught off guard by my request, reached back to snag the box off the night table.

I thanked him and began wiping congealing sperm from my face and boobs. Fortunately, none had sprayed into my eyes.

"How old were you?" Chris asked while watching me.

"Twenty-five."

"Nice. A delicious twenty-five, I'm sure," he cooed.

"Thank you. Anyway," I continued while cleaning the disseminated cum, "John discovered that I was back in Canada, so he invited me up to his parents' cottage for a weekend. It was a charming place located on a small island in Georgian Bay. The boat ride was about thirty minutes to a rustic and very private cottage.

"John's folks were on holiday in Europe, so only John and I would be there. To be honest, I was hoping to play 'Desert Island' with him all weekend, even though we'd completely stopped seeing each other about a year before I went off to Aus. Sex with him had always been fun, and, frankly, I needed it. As I said the other day, when I told you about Doug, I worked hard in Australia and was vigilant about maintaining a professional demeanour. Sex was low on my list while I studied overseas, so I was looking forward to letting my hair down with John."

Chris smiled with equanimity as he poured another round of tequila.

"John and I drove up on Friday afternoon, grabbing a water taxi to complete the journey. A strange tension surfaced between us, but I wrote it off to sexual anticipation. We eventually unwound enough to make love, which was wonderful; John always knew which buttons to press. But the uncomfortable feeling never went away. We mentioned it once but, although it lingered, never brought it up again. In hindsight, perhaps the events of the next day were our way of severing our ties for good? God, I'm trying to rationalise what happened, but I don't think that's possible."

"Sweetheart," Chris encouraged, "you don't have to rationalise anything. I just love hearing about the things you did. I really do. I love who you are, and I love all the things you did to become who you are." He then leaned over to kiss me, and our lips lingered.

The tequila had made me light-headed, provoking my daring and confidence to grow. "So what if I had fucked more than one man at a time?" I reassured myself. "Chris dragged this out of me, so he can deal with it now. I'm going to tell him everything. In fine detail!"

Chris refilled my shot glass, and I pounded it back. Any misgivings I might have had about telling the story were now washed away by the tequila. I sat up on the bed, leaned my back against the headboard and placed my knees wide apart, giving Chris a lewd view of my pussy, which was tingling again. Just thinking about the events I was about to tell always aroused me.

My husband's eyes fastened onto my vulva, and I watched him nudge the vibrator along the bed until it settled against my bum. I was both tipsy and aroused, so I took the toy and placed the tip against my opening, wantonly parting my pussy lips.

"Well, the next day, in the late morning" I continued, "I was tanning in my bikini on the sundeck, lying on my front with my top undone. All of a sudden, I heard voices followed by footsteps on the deck stairs. I scrambled to cover myself and managed to screen my breasts with my undone bikini top just in time.

"It was Matt, who was a friend of John's, and another guy I'd never seen before, Brian. Matt, whose parents owned a cottage on a nearby island, had noticed activity at the cottage and dropped in to see if John had come up.

"They'd taken me by surprise, so I didn't have time to do myself up. I stood holding the bikini top against my breasts with one arm while giving Matt an awkward hug with the other. Then, in my half-dressed state, Matt introduced me to his friend—"

"Wait a minute," Chris interrupted, "John plus Matt plus Brian makes three. Three guys? Does this story involve all three guys?"

I looked at Chris and slowly nodded my head.

"Yes," I whispered.

"Holy Fuck!" Chris exclaimed. "Catherine, I thought you said 'no battalions'?"

I sighed and weakly shrugged my shoulders.

"I was a naughty girl that weekend, but I wouldn't call it a battalion."

"True; it was more along the lines of a raiding party," Chris said sarcastically.

At least my husband still had his sense of humour, so I cheekily added, "Yes, good analogy, seeing I was thoroughly plundered."

Chris stared at me for a moment before bursting with laughter. He kept laughing and laughing until tears formed in his eyes from laughing so hard. His infectious guffawing incited me to start laughing along with him. It grew wilder and wilder until Chris finally managed to crack, "A division of dicks!"

It was hilarious at the time. I laughed so hard that my stomach ached, but I succeeded to volley, "A column of cocks!"

Impossibly, the laughter grew even more uncontrolled. It just kept getting sillier and sillier as we continued howling and holding our bellies, with tears streaming down both our faces.

Chris, struggling with his convulsions, finally fired, "A phalanx of phalluses!"

That little bon mot elevated the laughing and shrieking to a fever pitch, and it remained at that level for the longest time. The two of us rolled back and forth on our backs, screeching like lunatics, and kicked our legs in wild, crazy mirth until we slowly settled down.

And then, just as suddenly, we became quiet, so very quiet.

Chris finally broke the silence.

"Catherine, is this true, or are you just playing games with my head?"

"Chris, I wasn't going to tell you this story, but now that it's out, I will. Yes, the story I'm telling you is true."

"And did I hear right: It lasted all weekend?" Chris questioned.

Good grief, when it came to sex, he didn't miss a thing!

"Yes, it lasted all weekend," I confessed.

"Oh my," Chris chuckled, "Curiouser and curiouser. OK, baby; continue: You were barely covering your tits in front of these two guys and..."

"Ah, yes," I resumed, "Matt kindly offered to do up my top. Just as he refastened my clasp, John came out with some cold beer and wine, did an exaggerated double take and joked, 'Hi Matt. That was fast; you're taking her top off already?'

"I chided John with a sarcastic, 'Ha, ha,' and an angry glare. But my rancour was short lived. It was too nice a day to get upset over a silly comment, so we all sat on the deck and enjoyed the brilliant day, chatting and catching up with each others lives.

"As we conversed, Brian started rolling a joint, and that coupled with the wine and beer made us pretty lubricated. They began peppering me with questions about Australia, eventually asking me if it were true that the beaches are topless. As soon as I said, 'Yes,' John wanted to know if I went topless on the beach. When I admitted that I had, he said, 'Well, don't let us stop you; pretend you're in Australia.'

"Something ticked me off about his attitude towards me, so I simply said, 'Fine,' undid my top and tossed it to the side."

"Wow! How did the guys react?" Chris asked.

"They were caught off guard. John finally recovered and said, 'Well, let's hear it for Australia.' Matt and Brian laughed and another joint was passed around."

"And you enjoyed having your tits on display for three guys, didn't you?" Chris questioned with a leer.

"Initially, I did it out of spite. But soon the pot mellowed me, and I enjoyed the freedom. And, yes, I was turned on by it, but I didn't think I'd be having sex with all three of them," I said, my voice trailing off.

"Honey, this is such a hot story. Don't stop. I think it's great, and I think you're wonderful!" my husband said as he kissed me.

Chris, I knew, was talking and thinking with his penis, not his brain, and I wondered how would he feel after the story, once he'd shot his load. Yet if I halted now, I'd be forever pestered. There was no stopping. I had to tell it all. And to be honest, I was getting increasingly horny recounting this very sordid event in my life.

"Anyway, we all had a good buzz going and chattered, laughed and what not. But at one lull in the conversation, John complained that it wasn't fair that I could go topless; the guys should be able to go nude. I replied that they wouldn't hear any complaints from me; indeed, I might join them.

"John yanked off his trunks. Matt looked at me questioningly, and I waved my hand with a nonchalant 'whatever'. Off came his shorts, as did Brian's."

Chris immediately wanted to know about cock sizes.

"Oh, I whipped out my laser-calibrated cock-measuring device—I never travel without it—and John was 6.354 inches, Matt was—"

"Ha, ha; very funny," Chris deadpanned. "Just a general idea, that's all, Catherine."

"Alright: Matt's cock was similar to John's but was cut. I would call them both average in terms of size—like you," I added a little mean-spiritedly. "However, Brian, I noticed, was very well hung."

Chris oozed with enthusiasm and prodded me for details. I picked up 'Mr Big' from between my legs, held him up and said, "Brian's was similar to this, only his had a delectable upward curve, although I didn't know that quite yet."