Swapping Fuckbuddies [FM]

Amy is my best friend, and has been since we met my freshman year of college. Starting sophomore year, we roomed together, and we were usually connected at the hip. There wasn’t a hardship we didn’t share, a joy we didn’t celebrate together, or a guy we didn’t tell each other about in total, juicy detail. By junior year, we had gotten a bit of a reputation on campus, and by senior year, we were officially the girls your parents warned you about. We heard rumors about girls specifically requesting on their housing forms to not be roomed next to us, but we never figured out if that was true, or just ego stroking. Regardless, our senior year, we found ourselves in a huge basement room for three people, but our third roommate, a sweet girl named Karen, spent most of her time at her boyfriend’s, so Amy and I had pretty free run of the room. We’d set it up, with a little bit of help from some duly compensated frat boys, with makeshift curtains (sheets) that allowed a measure of privacy while changing and, more importantly, while fucking. The room was split into quarters, a common area, my bed, Amy’s bed, and Karen’s bed, which we sometimes used, with her permission (I think), as a bit of a catchall. It mainly became used as a coat room, very handy when patience is not in the cards.

On a quiet Thursday evening, Amy and I found ourselves, as we had so often before, sitting in our “common room”, on some second hand beanbag chairs, discussing the weekend’s plans. It was looking like something of a bust. There were no parties going on, and, in fact, was going to be a three day weekend, which meant that a lot of people who lived within driving distance would be visiting home to gladhand with their parents and get some laundry done. Us being in the midwest, and us hailing from Maine (me) and Florida (Amy), we would be stuck on a dead-ish campus for the duration. So, barring any fertile hunting grounds, we decided instead to look into some of our old reliables. I swung out with Larry, Pete, and Mark, she swung out with maybe double that (surely the use our parents had had in mind when getting us our super sweet flip phones). Finally, I nailed down a quiet, confident guy I hadn’t used in a while named Kyle (whose skills can be attested to [here](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/ay1kta/an_unplanned_threesome_fmm/)), and Amy managed to get a firm yes from Evan, a football player who had plans to go home for the weekend, but was easily talked into pushing his departure back to Saturday. Content that, at the very least, our Friday would not be wasted, we were able to relax a bit and discuss this, that, and, eventually, the OTHER thing. We, of course, knew all about the greatest hits of Kyle and Evan, but after a close call with (gasp) no sexual prospects for a free weekend, we began to reminisce about the finer points of our men of choice. Kyle was, to put it lightly, casual. He was steady. He was down for whatever, and he was down for it as long as you wanted him to be. The boy had stamina. Meanwhile, Amy had tales of Evan, with a chest like it was carved from granite (not exactly my type, but I can appreciate a beautiful body), who had an insatiable appetite for eating pussy. Of all the guys Amy had had (and she’d had plenty, I love the girl, but she was a fucking WHORE in college, and that’s coming from a girl who knew how to get around), Evan was an artist with is tongue, and he truly loved his art. I told her that it had been a long (long, long, LONG) damn time since I’d been with a guy willing to take his time down there, and Amy, casually as anything, waved her hand in the air and told me to take Evan for a spin.

It took me a minute to figure out how to react. We were besties, lifelong, we shared everything, but the number of guys we’d both fucked wasn’t super large, and the we always steered clear of each other’s established fuckbuddies, lest we accidentally steal some prime dick away from the other. I asked if she was sure, and Amy shot me a look and gestured over her petite frame, with her impressively tight stomach, her surprisingly large breasts(natural. Yes, I’m sure. No, it’s not an interesting story), striking her sexiest pose, as if to say “What, you think he’d leave all this?” So I agreed, and told her that, while I was giving the pussy eating wonder a whirl, she could have Kyle for a bit of fun. On hindsight, we were being a bit cocky, just assuming that these boys would be willing to go through the ol’ switcheroo, but we were entitled. We were hot, we were notorious, we were the girls Iven Hall basement. We didn’t get turned down.

Friday night came around, and we dressed the part in a way that left zero doubt as to what the evening held, and zero doubt as to how much effort it was going to take. I had my deep auburn hair in a simple ponytail, not super sexy, but practical for the evening’s festivities. I wore a simple nightgown that I rarely used, black against my pale skin and barely long enough to count as semi-decent, supporting pushing my D-cup breasts together, creating quite the view in the plunging neckline with absolutely nothing underneath. My makeup was done just so, ruby red lips, perfect cat eyes, I looked like lust made flesh. Amy went a more simple route, red boyshorts and an old, threadbare tanktop that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Shortly before the agreed time, there was a knock at the door. I answered, knowing full well that it was Evan. Kyle never got anywhere on time. It was part of his charm. Sure enough, there was Evan, dressed to impress in light khakis and a burgundy button down shirt that more than verified Amy’s description of the stone chest underneath, though I was clearly not what he was expecting when he opened the door. His eyes yoyoed over me, drinking it all in, all the while trying to stammer out something about Amy. I just smiled, doing my best to play coy and grabbed his impressively large, strong hand and dragged him inside, closing the door behind him. He may have believed he was there for Amy, but he was not one to turn down a pretty girl.

Amy had made herself scarce, taking shelter in her area to allow Evan and I a measure of privacy to get started. It didn’t take us long. I showed him to one of the old, beatup beanbag chairs, which he made himself comfortable in, and I made myself comfortable next to him, snuggling up next to him like a second skin. He warmed to the idea quickly, and we engaged in some lightly flirtatious, but ultimately casual conversation with his impressive arm around me, running his fingers over my back. I ended up shimmying up, allowing his hand to reach my ass, which he enjoyed almost as much as the secondary effect of putting my tits right in his face. I giggled and waved them in his face, eliminating all doubt as to what the night held in store with him. We were in that exact position when there was a knock on the door. Only five minutes late, positively early for Kyle. I had almost resigned myself to having to peel myself off of Evan when Amy emerged from her area, flashing a wink at either me or Evan, and crossing to the door, simply opening it and pulling Kyle inside without a word. I wondered what might have happened if it had been anyone other than Kyle out there, but my attention turned back to Evan, who seemed unfazed by the introduction of another guy who, judging by their social circles, may have never said two words to each other before. Kyle, for his part, seemed to be going with the flow, as usual. I took Evan’s head and buried it between my tits, sending the initial sparks of pleasure fluttering to my brain as Evan did his best, nibbling and licking at what titflesh he could get to. Over my shoulder, I could hear Amy and Kyle, who, as far as I was aware, hadn’t said anything to each other, making out loudly. Amy always did work fast.

Evan freed one of my tits from the skimpy nightgown and properly got to work, nibbling on my sensative nipple and getting a louder reaction out of me than I had anticipated. Amy giggled and I looked back at her. Kyle was busy nibbling on her neck. She was watching me and cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask how things were going on my end. I just stuck my tongue out at her and returned my attention to the matter at hand, placing a hand on the back of his head and pulling him closer. He was showing great promise with his tongue, living up to Amy’s promises. With a giggle, Amy walked past, leading Kyle with one hand on his familiar, exposed, already rock hard cock. They disappeared behind the sheet that hid her bed from the rest of the room. A fresh peal of giggles came with the creaking of bedsprings as the two settled in. Not one to be outdone, I patted Evan on the back of the head and nodded towards my bed. He grinned, and stood up, lifting my light frame from the beanbag chair like I was nothing and throwing me over his shoulder, causing me to let out an involuntary squeal. He carried me through the sheet to my little sanctuary, hurling me onto the bed. I’m not one for muscle men, but I was fully primed. I’d never been handled that way, and it had me completely forgetting about Evan’s oral reputation. I was ready for him to skip all pretenses and fuck me. Evan, however, was the very vision of patience. His eyes were locked between my legs, where my nightgown had ridden up, revealing my shaven pussy. He grabbed me by the ankles and dragged me to the edge of the bed, with my ass hanging off, then kneeled on the floor.

I had assumed, given Amy’s big talk, that I was about to be washed away on a wave of pleasure, but Evan was slow, methodical, exploring with both his tongue and fingers. There were fireworks of pleasure here and there as he hit the right spot, causing gasps and squeals that mixed in with the sounds of Kyle and Amy just feet away. A finger would hit a spot for a second, then leave, followed by his tongue flicking my clit, then moving on, giving me little bursts of pleasure before dying down. Then I realized, he was an artist. He was surveying his canvas, learning what exactly he was working with. Across the room came a loud, bellowing curse that was the telltale sign of Amy getting initially dicked, followed by her usual throaty squeaks. I was going to roll my eyes, maybe try to make eye contact with Evan. But then Evan made his move, having tested the waters long enough. In a calculated, precise, unfathomably quick series of movements, between his tongue, lips, and fingers, he lashed out and hit several perfect spots, causing me to jolt on the bed and let out a sound I didn’t know I could make, and I’m not sure I could replicate it now if you paid me. Before I could get my bearings, he hit a completely different set of spots, causing me to convulse so hard that my new lover had to hold me tight to keep me from running away from him, slipping his fingers out of my wet pussy to grab me with both arms. I don’t remember exactly what I said to him at that moment, as I was swimming in pleasure, but I remember I told him to put his fingers back in such a manner that I had to apologize to him later. When my convulsions died down, he did as I asked, and began a relentless stream of precision button presses that had me howling loud enough to alert everyone on campus as to exactly what I was doing. This boy was a savant, he took to my pussy like it was second nature, not just hitting me with the most exquisite waves of pleasure, but timing each wave to pick up just as the last one was tapering off, keeping me riding on an ever changing landscape of ecstasy. If I’d been able to find the words, I wouldn’t have been able to coach him to a better performance. Every time I thought I knew what to expect, he’d hit me with a new combination, a new angle, a new way to play me like an instrument. My throat was raw from sounds I didn’t realize I was making. I felt a hand roughly grabbing one of my tits, tweaking my nipple, for an embarassingly long time before I realized it was my own hand. Evan was so expertly playing me that I didn’t realize that I was helping him.

With a particularly intense maneuver, Evan sent me rocketing back from him, slipping from his grasp and sitting myself up against the cinderblock wall that felt divine, wonderfully cool and soothing against my skin, flush and radiating with heat after the merciless oral treatment I had just received. I looked at Evan, whose face was soaked with sweat mingled with my juices. I was suddenly very aware of Amy being very vocal with her approval of Kyle, just as I knew she would be. If ever a woman was made who could outland Kyle, it was Amy. I took a moment, breathing heavily, marveling at the state of my formerly neatly made bed, to gather myself. When I had myself mostly composed, Evan grabbed my ankle and gently pulled me towards him, ready for another round, but I had other plans. Using my leg for leverage, I pulled back, bringing him on the bed with me. I could already see his cock pressing against his khakis as I laid him down flat on the bed, undoing the buttons on his shirt to reveal the promised sculpted chest. It was incredible, and I laid a string of kisses, leaving red lipmarks down it until I got to his belt, which I undid, followed by the button and fly. He lifted his hips as I grabbed his pants and boxers and, in one go, slipped them down and dropped them by my bed. His cock, less impressive than the rest of his frame, but nothing terribly disappointing, wavered in the air. Maybe slightly below average length, it had a decent girth. Not spectacular, but I could work with it. He made a sound, almost an objection, but I ignored it. He’d treated me right, I was going to show him how good I could be. Licking his shaft from base to tip strangled any objections he had. I pursed my lips and pressed them against his tip, allowing him to part my lips, sucking my cheeks in to provide as much surface contact as possible. He groaned and dropped his head to the bed, running his hands through his hair as I pulled back slowly, then pushed down just as slowly, humming slightly to send vibrations through his organ. He took in a hissing breath, barely audible over the moans and slapping sound from Amy and Kyle. I maintained eye contact with Evan (as often as he’d let me) as I took his entire length in my mouth again and again, slowly, steadily, causing this musclebound jock to shake like a leaf at my mercy. A low, gutteral moan as Kyle hit a sweet spot on Amy struck a chord with me though, and I decided I had waited long enough. I finally pulled off the nightgown, leaving myself naked in front of Evan for the first time. Still in a post-blowjob haze, I don’t know how well he processed what was about to happen.

Climbing up Evan’s impressive frame, I took great pleasure in running my hands over his chiseled chest, taking in every ripple in every muscle. I finally settled a hands on his rock hard abs, lining him up with the other hand. With him notched in place, I put my other hand on his abs, squeezing my tits together between my forearms for added effect, and I sank down. I was a bit louder than the dick merited, but I wasn’t about to let Amy think she was having all the fun. It didn’t take long to take him entirely, and I sat for a moment, letting him take in the sight. When I finally moved, it was to rotate my hips, letting him hit all my spots. I made a little extra show of how good it felt, stroking the football player’s ego a bit. I had only a moment’s hint, a slight clenching of his jaw, a little extra determination in his eyes, before he grabbed me by the hips and rolled me over, causing my back to hit the college-issued mattress hard enough to rock the bed. In the motion, his cock slipped out of me, but before I knew what was happening, he was on top of me, caked in sweat that caused his muscles to shimmer in the dim light that was shining through the sheet that was the only thing keeping us hidden, and he rammed home hard, burying himself in me. What followed, despite his slight endowment, was an impressive feat. What he lacked in length, he made up for in enthusiasm. The best way I can describe it is that he seemed to be trying to fuck me through the bed. I wrapped my arms around his neck for some stability and let what was happening happen. I didn’t try to fuck him back, I didn’t try to grip, or bounce in rhythm, or do anything but hold on and let him fuck me. I watched him carefully, close enough to his face to feel his hot, ragged breath on my skin, maintaining eye contact. I could see his orgasm before I could feel it, a slight strain in his eyes that trailed behind his slowing thrusts. He tried to pull out, but I wrapped my legs behind him, holding the hulking man inside me, nodding my confirmation that it was alright. I expected him to roar out, playing the alpha male as he let loose, but a wave of sensitivity washed over his face as he let go was entirely unexpected. He came with a sigh, filling me with warmth as he shrank inside me, falling free and rolling over, flopping on the mattress beside me, breathing heavily. I stayed next to him for a bit, relishing the post-fucking calm, punctuated by Kyle and Amy’s rhythmic slapping sounds. After a few minutes of listening to them, I stood and put on my nightgown, leaving the room and walking down the hall to the communal bathroom, always a dignified ending to a sexual encounter.

When I returned, Kyle and Amy were still at it, and Evan was up, getting dressed. I asked him where he lived, and whether there was a place for me to crash for the night there, as there was no telling, between the boundless stamina of Kyle and the boundless sexual hunger of Amy, how long they would be at it. He told me he had a futon I could sleep on, as long as I wasn’t expecting anything else that night. I assured him I wasn’t, and I quickly got dressed and followed him back to his dorm, where I caught as decent a night’s rest as can be expected on a futon. The next morning, after giving Kyle plenty of time to clear out, I headed back, somewhere around noon, where Amy was awake, looking very tired, but very well fucked, and we compared notes.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/b32owy/swapping_fuckbuddies_fm

6 comments

  1. No, she’s not much of a writer. I’m glad you enjoyed the story!

  2. > On hindsight, we were being a bit cocky, just assuming that these boys would be willing to go through the ol’ switcheroo

    As a dude, nah, as long as sex is on the table, pretty safe bet still

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