Opening Up our Relationship: our very first threesome

We’d checked in early and gone out for dinner. I was so anxious; I could hardly eat anything at all. We deliberately stayed out until half an hour before our appointment. I think if I’d have had to wait in the room all that time, I’d have gone stir-crazy. Our room was on the fifth floor of a relatively luxurious hotel, overlooking the harbour, in a city a good many kilometres from home.

Our Excitement Builds

As soon as we got in, we stripped off and showered together. We soaped each other gently, teasingly and you washed my hair. I was so full of nervousness, I could hardly relax and pushed your hands away after a short while.

I brushed my hair and my teeth and got myself comfortable in one of the hotel’s plush cotton bathrobes. Clad in a robe of your own, you poured me a glass of crisp, cold white wine and I sipped it, the alcohol taking the edge off my nerves. We had five minutes before he was due to turn up.

I moved to the window staring out at the harbour, the busy industriousness of it, watched a huge crane placing a container onto a ship. It was a late evening in Spring and the sun was on its way down, some golden quality in the light. You moved to stand behind me and I felt your hand on my shoulder.

“Are you still okay?” you said.

I took a deep breath, and let it out. Turned to look at you, did an emotional check and yes, I was okay. Nervous, and scared, very excited and completely committed.

“Yes, are you?”

Staring into my eyes, you nodded and grinned, your eyes glinting.  “Yep.”

Our Very First Third Person

We’d arranged to meet a guy we’d been messaging with on a dating app. It was our very first time trying out a threesome. He knew it was our first time, he had a lot of previous experience in this V-type set-up; two guys who won’t be interacting with each other, and me being the hinge.

He was a lot older than either of us, but it didn’t matter. There was a spark in the way we talked. His messages were always respectful, in no way demanding of us, he triggered no alarm bells at all, not even an echo of a bell. We’d agreed on limits before the meeting. Amongst them; no kissing, no bondage, no inflicting pain. Also no ass-fucking, it felt too new and personal to share that with someone else.

He said he didn’t need to see pictures of us, but we sent him one of each of us anyway. We’d seen his profile pictures, it felt right to let him see what he should expect, before we met. Interestingly, that he made no comment on the picture of me, other than mentioning the lighting being nice. He said you were cute, which tickled me no end.

He Arrives

My excitement was ratcheting up with each second that passed now, it didn’t feel like my heartbeat could go any harder, but when the knock at the door happened, it jumped into overdrive. I swallowed, fully flipped into fight-or-flight mode. Standing frozen in my bathrobe, the window to my back, I watched you cross the room to the door.

Obviously, with time, my memories of this night have blurred a little, but this memory is so vivid. The lights in the room were out, the picture window behind me, all the light being thrown in front of me. The feel of the robe against my bare skin, the squeaky-clean feel of the cotton and how it irritated my fingers and my nails, which clutched at the sides of the robe by my thighs.

The surrealness of the activity I’d just watched through the window, how bizarre it all felt to be in this luxurious setting, so far from home, from what I’m used to. Thoughts of what was to happen, a doubt in my mind, though I couldn’t name what it was, and there was no time to think.

You, moving as though in slow motion to answer the door, not looking back at me, though I so very much wished that you would. The building anxiety in those seconds.

You flipped a switch by the door, and the room flooded with light. Your hand on the doorknob, you turned to me and the look you gave me was just what I needed. It was a request for permission to continue, eyebrows raised.

And I realised with a rush of palpable relief that I was not alone, you were with me and that I was ready. I took a breath, letting go of my robe, and nodded at you.

He was just like his picture, a good 15 years older than me, hair undyed, slim and clean-shaven (yeah, I know, I’m normally so very definitely a beard-woman!). You shook hands and he took off his coat, hung it over a chair.

We talked a little to start, you poured him a whisky from the hotel mini-bar, and we finished our drinks together.

I can’t remember what we said now. I do remember him checking if he should ask for permission before doing anything new, or whether we’d prefer not to break the flow, and it would be up to me to announce if anything was too much. You left the decision to me, and I asked for the flow not to be broken. The limits were clear, and I felt confident about them being upheld.

We Get Naked

Like I say, my memories of this night are somewhat blurry now, so what I’m sharing may be a little rose-tinted at times, but I’ll keep it as honest as I can. My man and I spent a glorious half an hour the other day, reminiscing on this, purely in the interest of preparing this post, of course.

He surprised a smile out of me by asking my permission to strip off. I gave it and he did. He just stood up, and with me watching him and you watching me and glancing at him, he got naked. His dick was already semi-hard and with a jolt my body responded in a very positive and somewhat unexpected way.

I had expected I would need time to adjust to the situation, that I’d need some slow and gentle attention to let my body heat up, but it turned out my dick-obsession is not limited to your dick alone.

Somehow you knew, maybe I widened my eyes with my realisation, or some other minute body-language you picked up on, but you knew. What I didn’t know then, was that this made you have your own hardening reaction. Glancing at you, I caught the change in your eyes, the half-grin on your lips. I swallowed the sudden build of saliva in my mouth.

I stood up, hands on my belt. You stayed sitting, watching me, you later said you wanted to let me just be in the moment. Wanted to just watch our initial togetherness.

He approached me and stroked my wet hair back from my face, his hand resting on the side of my neck, and he actually hugged me to him. He whispered something in German into my ear and to this day, I have no idea what he said to me. Then he stepped back and I opened my belt. And with this feeling of no-return-fatalism, I let the robe slide off me.

Touching Another Man with You Watching

He took my hand and guided it to his chest. I let it run over his chest hair there. It was the first time I had touched another man in years. I peeked up at him and he smiled at me, I closed my eyes and just felt how different his body was to yours, his chest-hair a thick mat, his chest hard slopes beneath it. I let my other hand join in and felt up to his shoulders and then he turned his back to me, my hands gliding around, over his shoulders, the fingertips of one hand gliding over the back of his neck.

What he was doing here, I don’t know if it dawned on me right then. He was being kind, letting me explore him, letting me get comfortable in the moment. And it worked.

I spread my hands out again and felt his back with every part of my hands. Getting daring, I turned my hands over and let my nails glide down his body and over his ass, over the turn of it where it met his thighs and downwards. And then back up, fingertips gently exploring his hips, the crack of his ass, stroking lightly over the hair at the base of his back and up further.

I took a half-step closer to him and, this was timid, I pressed myself to his back, my tits pressing into him. I let my fingers find their way around to the front of him, and he very kindly lifted his arms. Feeling over his pecks, my fingers exploring his lush chest hair again. His hands closed over mine and pressed them to him, so I felt his heart beating.

Stepping back, I opened my eyes, and he turned to face me.

“Alles gut?” he asked.

And I grinned at him.

Finding Our Way

Parts of this experience are just blurred memories now. But there’s a crystal clear brightness to other parts. Him gently guiding you a couple of times, while he did things to me. Me on my knees, a cock in each hand, licking and sucking, one after the other. You both on your knees licking me in different places, while I stood still between you.

At one point you both were sucking my nipples, a breast each. Uhh and me looking down on two male heads suckling at me. My hands stroking over you both, your hair running through my fingers, feeling worshiped. Ooh, that was so powerfully, unimaginably hot.

By the time we got onto the bed, my cunt was thoroughly drenched, and your cocks were rock-solid. We had agreed on a spit-roast beforehand. He asked you if you’d prefer my mouth or my cunt, of course I knew what your answer would be.

It also meant he would be the one who would bring me to orgasm. I don’t orgasm without direct clit or nipple action. Uhh I was so very excited by the fact a guy we barely knew, would be touching me so intimately.

Our Very First Spit-roast!

And so we did it, there on that bed in the fifth floor of that hotel, with all the lights on, curtains wide open, and the sun had long set. I got onto all fours in the middle of the bed. You knelt in front of me and your dick standing ready and looking so very suckable. He positioned himself behind me, pushing my legs open with his, so his knees were between my shins, his condomed dick resting against my cunt. You held your dick out to me and I began to suck you off.

He waited a beat, and I thought of our first conversation, years before.

“All we need…”

And then, he entered me. It was so damned slow, and so delicious. I let you slide out of my mouth, and looked up at you, all wanton eyes. You stroked your dick against my cheek, gazing back at me, your lips parted. And I could hear your breath hitching, as mine was. Just before I gave my attention back to your cock, I watched your gaze turn to what he was doing to me. Feeling him moving, seeing you watching him and how your expression changed. Uhh.

Mmh. Then he began to stroke my clit. I was in seventh heaven, feeling so thoroughly alive and devoted to the pleasure of you both. Keeping my focus on your dick was getting difficult, my breath was hitching, and I was fighting not to come. But his fingers were relentless and when I tipped, he held still, just stroking my clit as I spasmed on his dick, breathing and moaning my release over your cock.

And I remember in my head, the words “my first threesome orgasm” circling, and how much harder I was coming because of it. And with it the realisation, that this was something I seriously wanted, would be ready to beg for actually, if you enjoyed it too.

It wasn’t long before I felt him reach his own climax inside me, his rhythm speeding up, his grunts, his pulsing cock. I was so glad I had come first, so glad that I was able to concentrate fully on this feeling. Another man coming undone inside me, with your dick in my mouth, your own breath short. If this was to be my only experience, I wanted to savour it, to remember it.

A glance at your eyes, I saw how close you were and a moment later, I was swallowing your jizz, spurting hard into the back of my throat, and I knew from the minutiae in how you came, that you had absolutely loved the experience.