I [30M] only been deepthroated by two women, my wife and a high school girl [18F]. Here is that tale (x-post r/truebigdickstories) [MF] [open marriage] [workplace] [volleyball]

*In a previous story, I let it slip that I’d been deep throated twice in my life – the first being my wife, and the second being a high school girl when I was in my 30s. A lot of people had asked about that story, so I’ll tell it here. I dramatized a bit, just to set a few scenes. Sorry if it’s not your style.*

*(How did it get to that point? Check out how my wife and I started an open marriage: https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/57ww00/how_a_milf_at_a_softball_game_wanting_cock_saved/. Also, as I’ve put in previous posts, I’m 47, fighting cancer, am a widower and am recalling my former life’s exploits before things turned to shit. Thanks for humoring me).*

So, after my wife Lara and I were married for about six years, we began an open marriage. We mostly began with swinging and threesomes (with both women and men), but we let each other mess around as long as we told the other one our stories, mostly reenacting those moments with each other. Since my first extramarital affair was with a mother of one of the girls from a local softball team I covered (I’m a high school sports reporter), that was my most convenient pool to pick from.

During this time, I changed jobs. I took a job as a high school sports reporter for a small town newspaper where I only had to cover one school’s sports. Because of that, I was able to get very close with that community, the kids and the parents. It was like I worked at the high school, kind of like a teacher, since I was so involved in pretty much everything. I covered speech and debate tournaments and homecoming bonfires, for chrissakes. Anyway, for a few years, I’d mess around with some of the single moms, a few of them even being a third for Lara and I. (It should be noted, that like 90% of the time, Lara and I left town to find hookups). It went like that for a couple years, but two things changed:

First, I’d hooked up with one of the moms. Her daughter, one of the girls from the volleyball team, busted me trying to sneak out of her house afterward.

Second, my wife and I liked to meet interested couples and people for threesomes by opening up an account on Yahoo! Personals (This was around 2000). We focused on people from an hour or two drive from us, and it was pretty easy to find (Yahoo and MSN were focused on locality). Anyway, it was the beginning of the internet in those days, and we just didn’t think about keeping ourselves all that private. Well, one of the kids at the school found my/our profile.

Those two things together started the rumor mill at the high school. Some of the girls on the teams would flirt with me more openly (daddy issues are a real thing, people), and I struck friendships with a lot of them. It hadn’t yet advanced beyond anything more than innocent until the end of that school year (a few months after the rumor mill began).

Because I was able to get close to the kids throughout the year, I was even invited to some graduation parties. That year, I had been invited to five (both boys and girls). So I came, gave them a few gifts, met grandparents, etc. and got on my way. One of the girls that invited me, let’s call her Polly Pettigrew, was a girl on the track team. She was going to go off to run middle distance at a small state school the next state over, and was working as a waitress at a Chinese restaurant that I frequented before she left for school in August.

I’d hit that place for lunch a few times a week that summer, chatting with Polly, and soon I found myself scheduling it so I’d only eat there when she was working. Sometimes, she’d take her lunch break while I was there and sit with me. It was kind of cute, actually. It was like actual courtship. Anyway, she confessed a crush on me, one thing led to another and we ended up fucking a few times before she departed for college.

It was then that I discovered that Lara had a lot of fun acting out the schoolgirl fetish. She pretended to be Polly and we got more than enough mileage out of it. When we did a role-play where she pretended her tits grew like five sizes since she’d seen me (she knew how much I fetishized by wife’s H cup boobs), that started a few hours of marathon fuck sessions.

Anyway, Polly, it turns out, had a big mouth, so the fact that I fucked her made its way around school to her incoming senior class friends that coming fall.

Let’s transition to that fall, a month or so after Polly and I hooked up. The fall sports season was approaching and that meant volleyball. There was a girl on the team named Heather. She was a senior libero, on the short side at just 5-foot-2, with a head of long lustrous blonde hair, big dick-sucking lips and a pair of big blue eyes. She was a fucking stunner. She caught my eye when she was a junior because of her ridiculous body. As you may or may not know, the typical body type for volleyball players is tall, athletic and lithe. Busty usually isn’t a normal body type.

But dear baby Jesus, Heather was fucking stacked. With my breast obsession, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.

A weird thing happens when I eyeball one of the girls from the teams. I don’t mean to, maybe I’m just more friendly than normal with them, but I ended up sometimes getting extracurricular friendships (usually innocent, don’t get any ideas) with the girls I’m attracted to, almost by accident. Heather was one of those girls. She was pretty outgoing too. She liked to start shit, as she had a very sarcastic personality.

It began during my preseason article, when I’d interview kids before the season started. There was an all-state outside hitter on the team, and I wanted to talk to her for my article. But Heather kind of inserted herself in, saying “I’m a senior too. Why don’t you interview me?” She had a friend that was also a senior, but who barely played (her name was Allison). Allison wanted an interview too. So I indulged them, never intending to use their quotes for a story. Just to fuck with them, I’d ask them non-volleyball questions. Stuff along the lines of “If you could run a girl from [rival school] down with a car, which car would you pick?” It was all stuff to make them laugh basically, and don’t worry, none of it was sexually inappropriate. Just goofy stuff. I have a very goofy sense of humor and that helps with my rapport with teenage kids. But making Heather laugh produced a pleasant jiggle, so that was additional motivation.

As I was finishing up that day, Heather said loudly as I left “We’re headed to Burger King after practice. You know, in case you want to meet up with us.” This isn’t that kind of story, where I suavely say “Sure, babe. I’ll be there” and ravage them both at the same time. Heather had a tone that was kind of disingenuous, like she was fucking with me. So, as awkward as a 14-year-old, I think my response was something along the lines of “Um, uh, no thanks, I’m busy” and I ran off.

Another time, I showed up to practice and was small talking with she and Allison between drills (They kind of attached themselves to me whenever I showed up). Heather mentioned how she was on the homecoming court (she would be voted homecoming queen, actually), and said she needed a date. I told her she was the type of girl that was so pretty she probably intimidated all the boys, so she might end up going stag. She said “Why don’t you just go with me?” I know I blushed, but I talked about a thing called “laws.” I also told her I’d never gone to a homecoming dance anyway (which is true, I hated that shit back in high school, being a little deviant metal head). She said out of nowhere, very suggestively, “You lie. I thought you went with Polly Pettigrew to homecoming last year.” I knew exactly what she was alluding to. She knew about Polly and I. The rumor mill had found its way to Heather. It killed my nerve that I had had talking to her, then I got my interview with the volleyball coach and got the hell out of there.

In all my years on the job, hooking up with women and even schtooping some 18-year-old-ish high school girls, there was something about Heather that I still remember. She had this weird daring confidence that was hot, but scared the ever living shit out of me. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it was her freakish body, this habit she had of making unflinching eye contact. She also flirted in a very daring way that wasn’t normal for a high school girl. t don’t know. But she scared me.

Allison seemed to have more of a girlish crush on me. She was the type that laughed like an idiot any time she talked to me. I interviewed her once and she barely answered a question. She would just giggle. It was cute, but annoying since I was trying to get quotes out of her. Looks were deceiving though (read on, loyal reader!)

That whole season, though, I stared holes through Heather. She rocked that tight volleyball uniform, with her slim waist and gigantic boobs, which I’d later find out were 34DDDs if you can believe that, restrained by what she described as an “industrial strength sports bra.” She played back row, and her tits just dwarfed her little body, jiggling whenever she went up for an attack or dove for a dig.

Throughout the volleyball season, there was a group of moms that I hung out with on road trips, two of which were divorced (and far more flirtatious than the others). One of those moms was Heather’s mom, Janice. Janice looked nothing like Heather – she was a bit taller (like 5’6”), more pasty (Heather had more of an olive complexion while Janice was straight up ginger), and she didn’t have much in the boob department. The only real thing Janice had in common with Heather was her eyes, big and blue. But like her daughter, she was a flirtatious smartass. Once, at a postseason volleyball tournament, she gave me a hug to thank me for all the coverage throughout the season, and did that whole feeling my muscles “do you work out?” thing.Then she answered herself: “Probably not” with a wink. But we had a good rapport and I kept at Janice during the basketball season, as her freshman son was on that team as well. After running into her in a donut shop of all places one Sunday morning, still flirting as always, I made the strategic decision of telling her of my wife and I’s arrangement, because our interaction had reached a breaking point. I started with an “If I wasn’t married, I’d…” comment, which made her silly little head light up. She said something along the lines of “you don’t have to do anything, but you can tell me.” My strategy worked, so I told her the situation, and she was all over it. I ended up getting blown that afternoon by Janice in my car. Something about gingers I’ve noticed too – they like it rougher than the rest of the girls. It’s the damnedest thing. She was happy as hell with me holding a handful of her hair and guiding her. But she wasn’t even close to sliding over the thickest part of my cock about halfway down. A lot of gagging, which was awesome, but no matter how many times it happened, I always hoped that THIS would be one to take all of it. But, to no avail. She still gave pretty decent head.

Janice and I hooked up from time to time after that. But I’m not going to lie… I pretended I was fucking Heather more than once, since that girl was just pure fucking sex. Janice was attractive, but nothing like Heather.

That spring, Allison decided to play girls tennis. So when I covered that, I’d often see Heather cheering her best friend on. She sat with me and talked while watching matches (tennis matches are stupid long, so you’re pretty much chatting with people the whole time while you try to follow the match). She let me see more of the girl inside, not just her smartass one-liners. We built a friendly rapport, but it never got inappropriate until one day…

She was talking about something about her mom, and I said something about her mom like “she’s a beautiful lady” or some such. She paused, building up the nerve, and said “Can I ask you something?” “Sure,” I responded, not even sensing the bombshell that was coming.

“Are you banging my mom?” Heather asked. I got nervous and my lack of response was evidence enough. “I fucking knew it,” she said, and her use of the F-word threw me aback as much as the topic of our conversation. “Heather, I don’t think this is an appropriate topic.” I didn’t deny it. I just tried to change the subject.

“Get over it, I’m 18 now. I’m a big girl,” she responded, which was the first time I found out she was 18. “My mom was dumb enough to mention you by name, so I already knew.” I just told her I was sorry, and she pressed on.

“Aren’t you married?” Heather asked accusingly. I sheepishly nodded. “But she knows. If that matters,” I told her.

“Your wife knows?” she said surprised, raising her voice a bit. “Your wife knows you’re fucking my mom?” I tried to get her to keep her voice down and I nodded again. I expected judgmental nonsense, which was common when people found out about our setup.

She didn’t do that though. Out of nowhere, she said “And you fucked Polly too?” My eyes got huge. I’d never had somebody straight up mention Polly. I nodded. “And Jennifer?” I didn’t really mention this, but the first high school girl, like currently going to high school girl, that I fucked was a hispanic girl named Jennifer that was on the cross country team. She had flirted with me for two years already, I reciprocated a bit, and that was enough to get the wheels turning on this way of life. Anyway…

“Heather, please, I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. She sighed exasperated and seemed upset. I walked off to watch another match.

Later on, as the match ended, Heather found me again and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t want to talk to her. But she came to apologize. She said that she actually found it hot that I was with her mom. Her grin when she said that sent chills up my spine. She was legitimately turned on.

Whenever I saw Heather at a tennis match, we talked about sexual-related stuff when adults were out of earshot. She asked about my situation with my wife, and I finally broke down and told her. She asked how many women I’d been with, and I told her. She even asked how me and her mom got together. And I told her.

The conversations turned me the fuck on like no other. I was tenting more than a few times sitting on the bleachers at the tennis courts talking to her. I had to watch when I got up to make sure I didn’t show more than once. At one point, I asked her to walk across the complex away from me. I begged her – an important match was concluding and I needed to get up. She asked me why, and I figured fuck it – I pointed to my bulge. Her eyes didn’t get big or anything. She just smiled. “Makes sense,” she said. “See ya later” as she took off.

By the end of the season, pretense was gone. No topic was off limits with us (well, at least her to me. I rationalized that if I asked her a question, I’d be crossing some sort of line. If she volunteered information herself, that it was somehow OK.) All I knew at that point was that she wasn’t a virgin and hadn’t been since she was 16. She explained that she was with her friend’s older brother, and he had a big mouth about it, so she’d been asked to give head by way too many boys at school.

But every time I spoke with her, I swear I felt this constant release of adrenaline. Like I had constant chills, but in a good way. I hadn’t really felt anything like that before – all just from conversation.

Once the state tournament for tennis was finishing up, meaning I might not see Heather again, she handed me a invitation. It was for her upcoming graduation party. I was going to Allison’s party too, as well as several others, so this was one of many I’d be going to that day. But, in her typical smart ass, give me the chills way, she said “Now this is an invitation to MY party. MINE. This isn’t an invitation for my mother to suck your dick. This is about ME.” She gave me a little smile and bounced away toward Allison.

Those words were enough, though, to get trapped in my head. I swore I heard innuendo in her smartass response. I WANTED it to be innuendo. I wondered when I’d find out.

When the day of the party came, I was working so I had to go over late. It was about 8 p.m. or so when I showed up, so the grandparents and stuff were gone, just Heather and a few of her friends left. But I promised I would go so I did. When I got there, I saw Janice and gave her a peck hello on the cheek, which Heather saw from the other room. I saw the look on her face and felt compelled to fix it I guess. I went to say hi to Heather, and awkwardly, gave her a peck hello to hide any weirdness people may have noticed when I kissed Janice. It made no sense but I did it anyway.

When I leaned in to kiss Heather, she whispered back to me “Fuck, you smell good.” That comment, under her breath, combined with her outfit (black tank top covered by a long-sleeved pink cardigan, buttoned up as high as she could before the size of her breasts made it impossible to button), made my dick hop.

Heather went back to her friends, and I stayed mostly with Janice, and she let me drink a few beers. Earlier, I dropped off my present to Heather (it was a framed copy of the paper where I wrote an article about the team, featuring a big picture of her). Out of nowhere, while talking to Janice, Heather flies in to give me a huge hug. Being 5’2”, she practically flew through the air and wrapped her body around mine. And I can’t lie, she smelled fucking good too and I loved the feeling of her tits pressing into my chest.

“THANK YOU!” she squealed. “I love it!” Standing behind her was Allison, holding her framed newspaper. “I’m going to hang it up right now!” I smiled and began to pay attention to Janice again before I felt Heather grab my hand. “Come with me! I’m going to show you where I’m going to hang it!” I shrugged and went up the stairs with her to her room, flanked by Allison, as Janice laughed.

The poor woman had no idea.

The three of us walk in, and all bubbly, Heather takes down a fricking Britney Spears poster (which on its own almost made me lose interest in her). She begins to hang the framed paper, but has nothing to hang it on, and then looks at Allison and says “Can you ask my mom for some nails or photo hangers or something?” Oddly, though, Allison closed the door behind her.

So I’m standing there, in a high school girl’s bedroom, her graduation party going on downstairs. I looked at Heather, and I drank in her outfit and her ridiculous fucking body. She was looking at me expectantly. Trying to be the good guy here, I asked Heather “Looks like a cool place to hang it. Well, maybe I should get back.” “NO!” she nearly yelled. “She’ll be back soon. Just, I don’t know, hang out and wait.” She sounded very nervous, I remember thinking, but I was slow on the uptake here.

There were no chairs in the room aside from a beanbag in front of a little TV, and they were covered with clothes and books. So I sat down on her bed. Her room was kind of dirty, but I remember seeing a blue bra laying on the floor in the corner, and fuck, that thing looked huge. While I stared off in the distance, she sat next to me, quite nervously.

Now, she didn’t just start blowing me right away. This was, as it would turn out, a plan. Allison totally wing manned her. The goal was to get me up in her room. It was evident that Heather had no other play whatsoever. She started small talking me, asking me about my job, what sport I like covering best (Volleyball, duh!), she honestly even brought up the weather at one point. I was really nervous too – I could feel the tension. I asked again where Allison was, and Heather just lost it.

“FINE!” she kind of yelled. Then she started stammering. “I mean, she’s, well, FUCK!” She was exasperated, and she ran her fingers through her blonde hair, wiping it away from her face as she turned her body toward mine, casually putting her hands on my lower legs, which were curled up under me. “Okay,” she explained, her voice kind of cracking. “Allison isn’t getting anything. She, well,” and she was almost in tears. “I’m not a slut, I swear!” That statement shocked me but she looked up into my eyes at that moment, letting me see her big gorgeous blue eyes, and I just melted. I had kind of been in this situation before. I could feel it. But never as an adult. This was a high school/college thing…

“…But I really really like you, okay?” she said, lowering her eye contact from me. “I don’t know. You’re an older man and married and maybe I have daddy issues or whatever. But like it kind of gets me hot to know that you’re fucking my mom and she blows you and whatever, and that your wife gets off on it and, I don’t know. I feel fucking stupid.”

The best thing you can do in this situation is comfort the girl who is baring her soul. So I grabbed her hand, squeezed it and looked into her eyes with a big smile. She was almost crying still, but hadn’t fallen over that edge.

“Hey, it’s okay,” I told her soothingly. “I get it,” I lied. “I know you have a crush and, to be honest, I think I have a crush on you too.” And I did. I felt like a stupid high school kid around her. Maybe it was the setting we often found ourselves, inside a high school, and it just took me back to those times. But unlike her, I was a confident adult, so, to make her feel better, I slowly kissed her, very softly in an almost chaste movie way on her lips, and I felt her tense up. I stopped kissing her, and smiled at her, like that was somehow enough to end this situation. “That will be something to remember your crush, okay?” I tried to be all regal and all that, to break the situation and move on. I had a crush on her too, a little cute crush, but it would have been wrong to do anything more. So I began to get up, and as she was still holding onto my hand, she pulled me back.

“What do you mean you have a crush on me?” she asked, challenging me while she had a huge smile on her face. Then it was my turn to stammer. I didn’t realize I guess that I told her that. It was more being truthful to make her feel better. It just opened up a can of worms.

“I, um,” I stammered, and her power over me returned. “You’re just very pretty and…”

“Do you want to fuck me?” she suddenly said, very exposed emotionally, and I fucking froze. “Holy shit Heather,” I whisper-yelled at her, my face probably white. She smiled wide. “So you do?”

“I never said that!” I said, shocked. “I know you do! Oh my god!” she said with her intoxicating smile getting even bigger. I denied, she countered, and it went back and forth for what felt like 5 minutes. Then she upped the ante.

“What if I told you that I can suck you off better than my mom?” she said, looking so stupidly sexy. Those words were enough to finally get my cock hard and my heart was beating out of my chest. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.

I just lost at this point. In a rarity, a woman – no, a fucking girl – was in complete control of me. It was scary as fuck, and I just let it happen. We kissed heavily, drooling all over each other, and she immediately began moaning. Like a prepubescent kid getting his first taste, I pawed her tits and squeezed. It was fucking heavenly. We kept necking like teenagers (well, she actually was), and once she started rubbing my cock, it was all over. She kissed down my chest and stomach, and unzipped me and pulled my pants down, my cock waving in her face. The first thing she said, though, wasn’t “nice” or “it’s so big” or any of that normal shit. She said:

“So this is the dick that’s been in my mother, huh?” My eyes got huge, and like it was nothing, she slid her lips over my cock head, and then she raised her big blue eyes to me. She grinned around my dick, my cock head in her mouth. Then, focusing her gaze back down, she started going lower. And lower, then looking back up at me like she was doing a magic trick. I felt that feeling that I only felt with my wife, that rush of warmth when my cock entered a throat – and it kept getting warmer. I groaned and threw my head back before forcing myself to keep watching. When I looked back down, her eyes were looking straight back at mine. Spittle was escaping from her stretched lips. I felt that chill of shock go down my spine, as I occurred to me – I’m getting fucking deep throated. FOR REAL!

She began to gag, a little bit of snot blowing out of her nose and spit out of her mouth as she struggled a bit, but she contained herself and pushed herself down to the root. I was in the midst of one big giant moan that wouldn’t stop, almost like a never-ending shy giggle, feeling a huge shocked smile on my face. I just looked at her and she kept her gaze on me. With her face and eyes red from the exertion, tears escaping, she smiled around my cock again, wrapped around the root, her lips touching my pubic hair. The look in her eyes at that moment is burned into my soul. I never really saw it before or since. She had a look that challenged me, as if saying “Yeah, I fucking did it! I know you like it and I know you’re shocked. Stay shocked, motherfucker!”

She went up and down that thing like three or four times, tears flowing from the exertion, before pulling all the way off of it and smiling a spitty, sweaty grin. “So am I to guess that my mom has never done that?”

I shook my head “no” like an idiot. “Holy fuck, nobody’s been able to do that!”

Then she got a shy look on her face. “Nobody?” “Well,” I responded, “my wife but that’s it.” She knew I’d slept with a lot of women. She knew that it wasn’t any small feat. “Never?” she asked incredulously, smiling to herself.

I needed her back on my cock, so I just grumbled “more” and pushed her head back onto it. It was the best, as I call it, free-range (non-wife) throatfucking I’d ever gotten. She went to the root almost every time. She began to gag violently, and she was a fucking trooper and kept going every time. Her throat bulged and she didn’t care. It’s why it took me maybe three minutes to blow my load down her throat, which is amazing, because I rarely cum front a blow job. As a result, I kind of lost my mind. I figured I was being loud when I came down her throat, but I didn’t fucking care!

After I finished, she straightened herself out, wiping the tears from her face. When she saw her mascara was running, she wiped it and began to apply some more. I was still dumbstruck. “Next time you come to fuck my mom,” she said all nonchalant, “Just remember that, K?” Now THAT was an invitation, one I would take advantage of several times before she herself left for college.

She began to walk away like she was going to return to the party, and acting like a horny 16-year-old, with my softening dick still hanging out of my pants, leaking cum onto my pants, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back toward me. I began pawing at her top. “I’ve waited two fucking year to see these!” I said and lifted her top. She just giggled, and god damn. Really big pinkish-brown areola, which I love, and cute little nipples. I had to suckle them, because they made me lose my fucking mind. The guy I tried to be all the time, that performing sex artist guy, was gone. I was lost in Heather. At one point, she said “I usually get annoyed when guys at school are obsessed with my tits. But it’s kind of cute to see you be obsessed.”

There’s still a mystery about that moment – I asked her where she learned to do that, to take all of a cock like mine. She said she’d never been with a guy as long as me, but she did sleep with a guy thicker, like coke-can thick. “And,” she said, “Allison helped teach me a lot, too.” She just winked and never explained it.

I’m still dumbfounded about the role Allison played.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/59fl67/i_30m_only_been_deepthroated_by_two_women_my_wife