Blowing a guy with a friend. It’s polite to share. But I wanted to win. [FFM]

Let me preface this particular recollection by pointing out that I’m a competitive soul. Stupidly so. Driven to win at all costs, sometimes even to my own detriment. I’m entirely self aware of this – some may argue – crippling flaw, but self awareness does nothing to prevent my competitive urge striking. If there’s an opportunity to ‘win’ (and sometimes even when the very notion of winning is subjective at best) then I will do pretty much whatever it takes to achieve victory.

It’s one of the (many) reasons why I decided to give up ever accepting dares – for the good of my own sanity.

I also, for better or worse, have always seen sex as something of a competition. Which isn’t to say it’s a race, far from it. But it has an objective. The aim is to make the other person achieve orgasm. And if there’s an aim, there’s a victory. It’s a completion in every sense of the word.

Philosophy out of the way, let’s get stuck in.

It was the early days of university, and everyone was still very much making the most of the freedoms that life away from living with parents had granted. Which is to say, everyone was fucking everyone. Well, that’s not strictly true. But it certainly felt that way. Which is to say; *I* certainly felt that way. There was certainly a time when it was accurate to say that I was fucking anything that flashed me a smile. But that’s a different story.

The specifics of the where and the when are, for once, entirely unimportant. Not least because I really can’t remember. It was a house party. These were so commonplace that to try to differentiate between them is akin to trying to identify a specific sock after a big wash; you can identify colours and pattern, but it really is just a mass jumble, and, hell, they’re all going to get worn eventually. (Not unlike this utterly appalling metaphor.)

For anyone unaware, student house parties exist for largely one purpose; as an excuse for individuals to get as drunk as quickly as possible in order to hook up as quickly as possible. That’s it. They’re staged to be the literal shortest route from A to B (which in this case would be Alcohol to Banging). There’s a mass of cheap alcohol, everyone present is there for the same reason, and, for the height of maximum convenience, there’s even a hand bed or three a mere room or two away.

Tl;dr: Casual sex wasn’t hard to find.

All of which sets the scene for how I found myself sat on a sofa, all set to make a move – or, as I was hoping at the time, to have a move made on me – on the guy beside me.

I’m going to call him Tom but, in honesty, that might be the only part of this tale that’s fictitious as I can’t actually remember. I’m reasonably sure it was Tom, but I’m only settling on it with a healthy dollop of guesswork. He could just have easily been Anthony. But Tom is shorter, so I’m going with Tom.

We were both healthily inebriated and, I felt, pretty close to crossing the threshold when party politeness (and attendance) could be thrown out of the window, and we could disappear and have some fun. I’d put in some of the flirting legwork though, I must confess, was mostly relying on one of my HIAATAMT dresses to secure his interest. (Which, for the uninitiated is a ‘Hi, I’m Alice And These Are My Tits’ dress; i.e. one containing a more then generous proportion of cleavage)

Which was when Charlie arrived.

Charlie was a relatively new friend, but had quickly become a relatively close friend. Certainly close enough that I cannot for the life of me imagine that she couldn’t have understood my imminent intentions – though, to this day, she swears her interruption was not intentional. And, to this day, I still have my doubts.

It’s also worth me pointing out that Charlie was (and indeed, still is) what can only be described as ‘infuriatingly attractive.’ And here she was casually sitting down beside me distracting his attention in a cock blocking move so efficient it would have seemed choreographed.

She however had barely noticed Tom. She was several stages drunker than myself and instead had inexplicably chosen this moment to tell me the latest goings on in a small human drama that was developing between other friends – a tale so tedious to those out of the loop to act as pure penis repellant.

She was also entirely unable take the not-so-subtle hint I was willing her way to fuck off and let me enjoy the evening the with Tom.

To my surprise, Tom actually engaged in the conversation. Though I noted he was casting glances her way that, until mere minutes earlier, had been pointed more squarely in my direction.

The conversation itself was by and large a sexual sedative, until it took an unusual turn. Tom asked if Charlie and I were close. I had a horrible feeling I knew where this was going and he was about to ask my permission to get off with her, so I replied with a resigned ‘Yes’.

‘Like, really close?” he asked, with an eyebrow so arched and suggestive it’d nearly broken through his hairline.

‘Aha!’ screamed my inner monologue. ‘A chance to pull this disaster back from the brink!’ I put on my very coyest smile. ‘Very close.’ I say, aiming for sultry, but likely sounding like an idiot.

And, with that, despite not being entirely sure Charlie had cottoned on to what was happening, I leaned over and gave her a kiss.

Charlie and I had kissed before – twice at this stage – but only as a result of party games. But, even though she almost certainly hadn’t been aware what I was about to do, she kissed back enthusiastically.

As I turn back to him, he as a huge grin on his face. As now do I. Some quick thinking had avoided a last minute disaster. I made a mental note to thank Charlie in the morning.

I tell him maybe we should go somewhere and he agrees with enthusiasm. I get up and lead the way but finding the bedrooms already occupied, we find ourselves in one of the bathrooms. Mercifully, it’s still early enough in the night that it’s not a filth strewn mess yet.

Now, reader, you’re probably way ahead of me here. But please believe me when I now tell you that what happened next was a complete shock to me. I blame the alcohol.

I turn around to find that it’s not just myself and Tom in the bathroom. Charlie had followed too.

Internally I scream at her to fuck off. Can she not see how she’s about to cock block me again?

Meanwhile Tom proclaims this is his lucky night.

My inner monologue decreed the following:

‘Oh, that’s flattering.’

‘oh.’

‘OH!’

‘Well. Fuck it. We’re here now. When in Rome.’

‘But she’d better not getting more fucking attention than me!’

Tom kissed me first, his hands taking a firm squeeze of my chest in the process. Then he turns his attention to Charlie, reaching immediately for her arse. Having noticed where his differing interests seem to lie, I slide the dress off my shoulders and pull it down to expose my tits.

It has the desired effect. As soon as his attention is back on me, I kiss Charlie again. He takes another squeeze and encourages her to do the same. She’s felt me up before and for far less noble reasons, so I give some encouraging noises and return the favour.

Charlie then takes the initiative to take her top off too, but eager for her not to become the focus of attention I take the opportunity to unzip his jeans and get take his cock out. He is, if anything, slightly smaller than I was expecting, but I wasn’t perturbed. Size isn’t everything. It was also already wet with precum, which was understandable. He was having an exciting time.

I give him a few encouraging strokes and, spotting he was currently having a feel of the new tits on display, waste no time in getting it in my mouth. I soon feel it twitch with excitement and, despite him still looking at Charlie, I feel happy his attention is actually on me.

This continues for a few minutes as I give what can only be described as a ‘holding pattern’ blow job – I.e. Lots of lovely tongue action, but little in the way of mouth movement. After all, this is the warm up and I didn’t want him getting over excited too soon. As far as I could tell he spent the majority of this time playing with Charlie’s tits.

Soon, Charlie is understandably bored of just being squeezed and gets down on her knees beside me. A little reluctantly, I let the cock out of my mouth and pass it over to her. She begins licking the tip and I take a few moments to kiss along the shaft.

In porn it seems there’s a veritable smorgasbord of things to do when there’s two mouths dealing with one cock. However, in reality, trying to identify what those things are without having prearranged anything is near to impossible. Especially when the cock isn’t exactly porn star sized. We spend about a minute or so both trying to give it some attention, but after our heads bang together we decide this is perhaps something better done by taking turns. I leave Charlie to it, and stand back up to get some attention.

As expected, he goes straight for my tits. Except he almost immediately seems distracted. Charlie hasn’t taken the same holding pattern blowjob routine and, while not exactly going in for the kill, is clearly showing off some skills. And he’s very much appreciating it. Appreciation which, I felt, I was now not receiving.

Now I know Charlie very well. She isn’t a competitive person AT ALL. Which is fortunate really, being friends with me. I know fine well that she was simply having fun and, in all likelyhood, just doing what she would do if alone under the same circumstances.

But, in the moment, as far as I was concerned, she was trying to beat me. And I wasn’t having that.

I brushed off his groping and got back on my knees. Charlie, obligingly, shuffled over slightly. I put my lips around the side if his cock, and slid along it turning it into another kiss with Charlie. As he cock fell from our mouths, I grabbed it, not wanting her to get back to what she’d been doing. Instead I take it back in my mouth and, in doing so, nudge Charlie out of position. She takes this to mean it’s swapping time again, so stands back up and kisses him.

And I go to town.

If he thought Charlie had skills, then I did my damnedest to give him a real school. I went deep (well, as ‘deep’ as his size would allow) and hard, holding nothing back. I could hear his breath and panting sounds even through his kiss with Charlie.

All too soon he disengages from her and in a mix of ecstasy and near frustration declares he’s close to cumming.

I know now just as I knew then that what he meant by this was ‘Shit. I’m close to cumming and wasting this opportunity before we’ve even got past the blowjob stage. Please relent a little so we can continue…’

But I didn’t stop. I didn’t even pause for breath.

A few more head bobs was all it took to have him explode in my mouth. I kept my lips locked around him as his cock twitched and shot after shot filled my mouth with cum.

I don’t know if Charlie would have been in the mood to share. I didn’t give her the chance. I swallowed the whole thing. One big gulp.

I pulled my dress back on, and gave Charlie a quick kiss as she did the same.

I thanked Tom for a very enjoyable ten minutes and left the bathroom with the taste of victory still, very literally, in my mouth.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/jr4dr6/blowing_a_guy_with_a_friend_its_polite_to_share