“Fuck you guys. Two cocks and I have to finish myself off…” [MFM]

It started how it always started. It was late. I was stoned. You get the picture. I remember it was a Thursday night. Why I remember that I don’t recall. The doorbell rang. I likely did a little jig as I buzzed her in. I ran to the bathroom, perfumed my various damp bits, chugged some mouthwash – I was high enough that it felt like the fucking Olympics. I’m pretty sure there was a dramatic soundtrack in my mind. More likely it was the TV. Whatever.

So I opened the door and there she was. With some random fucking guy. “What the fuck?” is what I wanted to say but instead I invited them in. His name was Tom or Jerry or something. He was in one if her classes and they d been drinking with friends. “Is it cool if he hangs around while he waits for his ride?” Grace asked. His ride. Not theirs. She was staying, so my rage faded to mild annoyance.

Beer, weed and pointless chitchat ensued. Tom or Jerry was sitting next to her on the couch, close enough that it bothered me. We exchanged knowing glances. I knew what he wanted and he knew what I wanted. It’s safe to assume she knew what we knew. The minutes ticked by. I’m pretty sure I was visibly impatient. Every second he was here was a second wasted. Fuck Tom or Jerry. Fuck him and his mildly superhero jock aesthetic.

I focused on Grace. Pretty Grace with her tight blouse and her surprisingly modest knee length skirt. I checked my watch repeatedly. I got more beer. Fuck Tom or Jerry for drinking my beer and smoking my weed and blocking my cock.
His hand was resting on her thighs and she seemed unperturbed. I was getting jealous in that stabby way, so I rolled another preventative joint. To make matters worse that modest skirt of hers had bunched up a bit and I had bit of a glimpse of upper thigh so I was getting hardish. That’s the technical term. Awkward hard. I had to excuse myself, because being erect in the presence if another dude seemed like a situation I’d rather avoid.

To the bathroom, where I took a piss and waited to deflate and prayed that Tom or Jerry would fuck off so I could do the things I was doing in my head. I also helped myself to a cheeky line, because like fuck was I going to share my coke with that Tom or Jerry cunt.

So I was flaccid and talking myself into being calm as I made my way back to the living room.

“What the fuck?” I walked in on them making out like teenagers, Grace in his lap, grinding as they sucked faces. I took a deep breath, resisted the urge to throw Tom or Jerry off the balcony and grabbed another beer. What the fuck?

So I sat there distracting myself by rolling another joint, but my eyes kept wandering. His hands were up her skirt, doing what I couldn’t tell. Just as I was about to look away we made eye contact. Fuck my life. It was weird in a stomach churning way. And then, clearly for my benefit or disdain, he lifted up Grace’s skirt.

“What the fuck?!” I actually said it this time. They weren’t just making out. They were fucking. He was inside her. I hadn’t noticed the panties and the condom wrapper because they were under the table. They were fucking. On my couch. In front of me. Fuck Tom or Jerry and fuck Grace and fuck my life for sitting there and putting up with it.

I couldn’t not look. I’d never watched other people fuck in real life. I hated myself because what I was looking at was another dudes cock buried inside her. His hands on her ass as she started riding him. Fuck Tom or Jerry and his creamy ribbed condom and his noticeable girth. Fuck the way he made her moan. Fuck my confused rage erection. Fuck my life.

Her top came off. He slipped into the couch and suddenly she was facing me, looking at me, watching me watch as the fucker pulled her bra down, releasing her breasts, squeezing her nipples. I shifted awkwardly, attempting to conceal my obvious bulge. I hated that her skirt covered the fucking. I hated that I hated that.

“Fuck this” I said or thought or both. Standing up took more confidence than I knew I had. I moved toward them, my eyes firmly fixed on Grace. I slowly, nervously unbuckled and unzipped. As I reached into my shorts I could feel his eyes. I couldn’t blame him, but I fucking hated him. Deep breath. My cock came out and Grace immediately wrapped her lips around it. Getting sucked by someone getting fucked was new, and entirely unexpected. The muffled moans reverberating through me. The way her head moved as she rode him. The way her teeth dug into my shaft as he thrust. The sloppy drool oozing as her head bobbed. I hated how much I enjoyed it. I had to pry her off me before things reached a salty, gooey conclusion.

“Put it in my ass”.

Fuck. She fell forward, onto Tom or Jerry , her head thankfully blocking his face. I was terrified. I moved behind her and pulled her skirt up. I froze. The proximity to another dudes erection was about as disturbing as how fucking hard I was. In porn it looks easy. Cock goes in hole. Depravity ensues. In real life there are practical considerations.

I needed to get in position so I hoisted a foot up into the couch and tried not to care that it was touching his thigh. I had my cock in my hand, sliding my tip down her crack, attempting to maintain as much of an angle as I could because that angle was the only thing separating my knuckles from his cock. The mere thought of contact was fucking terrifying. Everything stopped. I pressed.

The angle was a terrible idea. My tip slipped. Contact was made. I recoiled like I’d been shot and almost fell off the couch. I didn’t die. It wasn’t fatal. I wasn’t magically gay. I was still hard. I got back in position. As I was deliberating my trajectory Grace grabbed my cock. Problem solved. Crisis averted. I spread her cheeks and stared as she guided me, as my tip slowly stretched her puckered ring, as it crept into what was easily, unquestionably the tightest place it had ever been.

She made this insanely hot noise, a pained, throaty squeal. Lots of “okay okay okay” and “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck”. I was in. I tried not to focus on the fact that the bulge I could feel was another cock, but it was unavoidable. She let go.

“Slowly” she whimpered, granting permission to proceed. I wasn’t prepared for how complicated it would be. We both thrust at the same time, like it was a race. Grace yelped. I retreated and very nearly popped out. He kept thrusting. Without lube all I could manage was an occasional stab. My primary objective was to stay in. I hated the fact that it was him doing all the work. I wanted to shout “slowly” but to do so would be acknowledgement that it was another dudes cock getting me closer. I bit my lip and did my best to get a bit deeper, to justify my existence, to be more than just a makeshift buttplug.

Grace didn’t shut up. All “fuck fuck fuck” and “oh shit oh shit”, not quite pleasure, not quite pain. It was decidedly unerotic. Functional. It felt like a chore, something to be ticked off a list. Nothing at all like the lies that are porn.

No rhythm. No coordination, because that would require communication. Just haphazard thrusting and jabbing. And then Tom or Jerry said “Grace”. I knew that tone. I invented that tone.

“Don’t cum” she begged.
“Grace” he grunted again.
“No… not yet…”
“Grace”
“Please… don’t cum… please…”
“GRACE”

Endgame.

She hoisted herself off him. Wrapped or not, she didn’t want him finishing inside her. With all the confidence of a pornstar Tom or Jerry scrambled off the couch, tore off the rubber, grabbed her hair and shoved his cock in her mouth. I grabbed her hips and thrust, a bit too enthusiastically, burying myself in her ass. She shrieked a muffled shriek and I came in her ass as he came in her mouth. She didn’t cum at all. It was an undignified end to a train wreck, her coughing cum up all over my couch as I shriveled up in her ass.

“Fuck you guys. Two cocks and I have to finish myself off…” she sounded genuinely frustrated, almost angry. I slipped out and she climbed off the couch, punched Tom or Jerry in the shoulder and hobbled away.

Literally, at that very moment, his phone rang. He was gone in seconds. I stood there, spent, angry, trying to figure out what to do about another dudes cum on my couch. I thought about burning it.

I didn’t. I rolled another joint and reflected. Yes, it was awkward. Yes, it was messy. Yes, it was confusing. Infuriating. Amateur. But it was also a threesome. Not at all what I’d imagined. Nothing I’d queue up for. But it was done. Did it matter that she didn’t finish? Perhaps. I honestly didn’t care. I smoked my joint and pictured Grace masturbating and wondered how she’d react if I asked her to clean up the mess. After all, it was her fault.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8pxccb/fuck_you_guys_two_cocks_and_i_have_to_finish