Tall, model thin, thick eyeliner and cherry red hair, Keesha definitely had her demons. She liked rock concerts and whiskey and spoke with a Texas twang that was sweeter than expected. She preferred fishnets, American Spirits cigarettes and stiletto fake nails. Her eyes were piercingly beautiful green. Photographers always solicited her image and she definitely was the muse of many fashion photo shoots.
People were drawn to her. She came with an entourage that partied hard early in the morning. Noon was too early for morning coffee. She traveled all over for work and was proud to post myriad selfies with rockstars in Vegas.
It’s a false stereotype that all models are superficial. It’s a true stereotype that models don’t eat. She devoured Jung, Plath and drank Rumi and Gibran. From these authors she crafted poetry of her own philosophy.
I had known my partner and Keesha were friends for many years. I suspected at one point they had romantic encounters. He told me she was coming over for dinner one evening and he would like to make dinner for us.
My Love made roasted red pepper soup and grilled chicken. As she and I got to know each other, a nice double Rye Whiskey was served over ice. We sipped and discussed literature and philosophies of religion and social constructs. We drank more and we talked. I ate a delicious dinner and she picked at hers like a timid bird. She told unbelievable stories about celebrity parties in Vegas, rockstars and socialites. We drank a lot more.
I was distracted by her skintight black dress and soft supple breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra and I was curious to know what her nipples tasted like. She was definitely gorgeous but I didn’t know if she was into both men and women.
At one point I got up to refill ice in our drinks and I touched her shoulders and grazed my hand across her neck and back. She leaned into me and moaned just a little bit. I felt sparks. That was the first thought that perhaps a crush was developing. I hadn’t known if she was even into women until that moment.
As she enjoyed a cigarette, the conversation turned more inquisitive. “Have you ever been in love with a woman?” My partner asked her.
“Oh! I LOVE women!” She gushed.
“But no, I haven’t ever had a girlfriend.” She winked
“But I do love women” she reiterated.
And she gave me this look that confirmed what connection I had felt for her.
She finished her cigarette and excused herself to the bathroom.
I asked my partner if he had told her about my bisexuality or if she had any expectations for tonight?
“No, she doesn’t know anything! But I do know she has a bit of a wild streak.” He says.
With that sentence I feel like my insides are on fire with desire. It had been almost a year since I had an encounter with a woman and I was craving femininity.
I got excited and started to fantasize about her body entwined in mine. We moved to our living room where I told Keesha vaguely I had some great experiences with women and with couples.
I don’t remember how we started touching but once her hands were on me, I wanted to take her completely and consume all of her. I was ravenous. I felt like a different person. I grabbed her, threw her on the sofa and climbed on top of her. I took off my shirt and I kissed her passionately- sucking on her soft lips and even giving a playful bite. I rose up and had her take my nipples into her own mouth. I don’t usually like things rough but that night I begged her to suck on my nipples until they stung.
I move to her beautiful breasts and my man starts kissing her. I slip her dress over her head and she only had on a tiny g string and fishnets.
Oh glorious soft, natural, perfect voluminous breasts. “Your boobs are amazing” I swoon and I take more kisses of her soft skin. Her breasts spilled over her tight tummy as I took each of her nipples into my mouth. I sucked hard until she shivered with goosebumps.
My man starts making out with her as I grab her thighs, remove her stockings and pepper her soft skin with kisses- and playful bites.
I get up for a pause as my man navigates between her thighs. I hear her moans of pleasure as I’m in the kitchen. I walk in and I’m so turned on. I’m a bit of a voyeur too. I like watching these moments of connection. I watch for a bit as her svelte body writhes with pleasure. “More. More. More” she moans over and over as my man devours her pussy.
I kiss her and playfully pull her hair as my partner is sucking on her clit quickly gaining momentum. She screams “don’t stop” and her muscles visually tense as she arches her back, holds for 3 seconds and then releases.
“Did you just cum?” He asks her.
She nods. “I need a drink” she says!
We all drink some more. We drank a lot. We drank too much because I don’t remember the rest of details. I usually like being totally present and aware but this night I just lost myself to the alcohol. I remember I felt such unrestrained rapture I just wanted to completely ravish her. I do remember cumming hard and loud and fast with Keesha licking my clit and my man pounding my pussy hard. It was pure fucking.
She smoked another cigarette, we chatted more and then we moved to our bed. This was fucking. Passion, physicality, raw, aggressive. Fucking. We fucked for hours.
After our pause I knew it was my partner’s time to cum, and he wanted Keesha bent over grabbing her hips with her massive breasts bouncing over me. It was our first threesome together with my man and I was drunk with excitement and floating on cloud nine. I was completely selfish in my lust.
At the exhaustive end of the night, I passed out in bed while our guest slept between us in our king bed. It was a different feeling to roll over in my sleepiness and touch a woman’s soft skin on my naked body.
My alarm went off so I could go to work. It was definitely not enough sleep- especially since we all had multiple orgasms until early in the morning. Instead my man and I snuck into our guest room and we got to talk it out: “did you have fun last night?” “What was your favorite part?” As we recounted the events, I got wet again. We made love in our guest room and I came again that morning. That was one orgasm I remember because it was a lot more special and more intimate.
I was hung over the rest of the day. Keesha woke up with bruises all over her arms and legs, hickies on her neck and breasts. My partner told me I was a little too rough on her. I thought she must be a little anemic- no one bruises that easily! In hindsight I was too drunk and was definitely too rough.
In the years since this first incident I’ve learned that pure fucking is not the goal of my fantasies. In later encounters I like to take the time to talk to partners about their likes and their boundaries, even take my women on dates and woo them a little more.
I did develop a friendship with Keesha and I wanted so desperately to be that one stable friend in her life, to show her what stability and routine can bring. We were never physical again because I didn’t want to play with her emotions like other men had used her because of her beauty.
True story by Jade Monroe copyright Berlin Rouge Media 2019.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/csbd95/the_only_time_i_liked_it_rough_ffm_threesome