[MF][MF] When two FWBs visit you on the same night

Dear gentlemen, or as today’s custom suggests I refer to you, dear fellow penised humans. I’m going to tell you the one key trick to turning a good date into (hopefully) good sex. You’ve no doubt heard the same claim before. It’s not having “big dick energy,” or being able to do magic tricks to seal the deal, or flashing cash, or, Azathoth forbid, negging. There’s no magic code or ritual involved, but you will have to put in some effort into this one critical thing and maintain it. Are you ready to know what it is? Having a clean home.

No, seriously, that’s it. You will not believe the smile on your partner’s face when you bring them into a tidy, organized, well-maintained apartment or house, especially if it’s spur of the moment, and they realize that yes, it really is always like this. In fact, once upon a time, a woman who didn’t want a date to end followed me home (by my consent, I did not try to lose her by driving randomly through roundabouts to lose her, don’t worry), she almost immediately remarked how nice and clean it was, pushed me down on my couch, threw off her shirt and bra, and proceeded to pull down my pants to orally pleasure me for an hour.

Of course, these indulgences came at the price of having one day a week where no matter how I felt about it, unless I was physically ill, incapacited, or out of town, I dusted, scrubbed, tidied, and vacuumed. In a pretty standard 750 square foot apartment — or a very nice 69 square meters for those not versed in ‘Murican Freedom Units — this took approximately 45 minutes at most. And this discipline applied especially when I knew there would be visitors.

On one particular cleaning day, I had been running late, busy with a web design that just didn’t want to come together because this was before Bootstrap but at the dawn of widespread mobile screens, and CSS for it was primitive and involved a great deal of math, and… Look, if I had to suffer doing it, you’ll have to suffer hearing about it before we get to the good stuff. So, running late but knowing that my FWB “Amy” was coming over, I tried to scrub as quickly as possible.

Time was on my side when I finished vacuuming the living room, or so I thought as the doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole to see Amy in a bright orange and yellow sundress, holding a large package with takeout, an overnight bag hanging from her shoulder, 20 minutes early. A quick glance down at myself did not reveal a presentable picture. My only attire at the moment were my loose shorts. That was it. Sheepishly, I opened the door.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” she said. “I know I’m early but they were ready early so…”

“That’s okay,” I replied. “Let me put away the cleaning supplies and get dressed.”

She looked me up and down.

“I’ve seen you in less,” she chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. Oh, I got us a special little dessert. Mind if I put it in the fridge?”

“Go for it. I’ll get the plates in just a second.”

With the supplies and sweets in their proper places, we started eating in the living room I had just cleaned, sitting adjacent to each other on my huge, obscenely comfortable and deep L-shaped couch on which I’ve probably had more sex than on my bed. (My deepest apologies to all my platonic friends who sat, and even slept, on what was effectively the Cum Couch.) As we ate, we were discussing something which prompted me to say “I don’t know, that’s like having sex with your clothes on. Like, how would that work?”

But as I moved on and took another bite, Amy seemed to have been giving this offhand remark a lot more thought. Her fingers played with the fringe of her sundress as she suddenly got really quiet.

“You know,” she finally said, “if you’re wearing a sundress, you can just hike it up like this…”

“I see,” I furrowed my brows while putting down my plate.

My knees were now up against the couch, my face between Amy’s spread legs as her fingers played with her tiny black panties.

“And you just move them to the side…” she exhaled.

“Don’t. Move,” I commanded.

She obediently froze. My fingertips ran down from her knees to her inner thighs and back again, slowly, waiting for that first shiver. As soon as I felt it, I kissed down her thighs, avoiding getting too close to her mound until her breathing started to falter. It was time to do as Futurama’s Elzar would recommend, and knock it up another notch.

I gently moved her underwear aside and slowly, deeply kissed her mound. Again. And one more time, letting my tongue just graze the clitoral hood. As she gasped, my tongue spread open her pussy lips and my middle finger easily slid inside her. Adding my ring finger as well, I gave her clit a light peck, then straightened out so my lips met hers. Amy could only tolerate the lightest pressure on her clit and liked being fingered much more, so as the tips of our tongues teased each other while we kissed, I made sure to keep a steady rhythm with my fingers.

With a stifled moan and an almost pained look on her face, she disengaged and grabbed on to the waistband of my shorts, trying to pull them down at an angle working against her. I stood up, ripped them off, kicked them away, then placed my knees on the couch, spreading her legs with my thighs, pinning her to the back cushions. I kissed her deeply as her hands roamed my naked body, my left index finger now holding her panties out of my way. She had yet to remove anything but her sandals.

My throbbing tip teased her clit and just barely tried to enter her. Her hands tried reaching for my cock, trying to pull me inside, but I refused to move forward as she kissed me and moaned pleadingly. Deciding it was enough, I easily slid inside her with one thrust. Her silky, drenched pussy pulsed around me as she started to move her legs to pull me in all the way to the hilt. Finally, to her relief, my hips started moving.

“Wasn’t planning on that!” she got out.

“Should I stop?” I smirked.

“Absolutely not! Please keep fucking me.”

I picked up the pace. My naked flesh rubbing against her sundress was a very, very different sensation than I was used to. That electric stimulation between the bare skin of two people was missing, but her pussy still felt very much the same, and her hands roaming my body, along with her breathing, helped me measure the rhythm.

“I… I… I want to…” she moaned in my ear, “feel you explode in my pussy.”

“Oh yeah?” I confirmed.

“Yeah, I… I need you to fill this pussy with your cum. Keep fucking it just like that…”

As she kept begging, I felt myself pass the point of no return. Pinning Amy down even more and plunging inside her as far as our anatomies allowed, I saw everything flash white for a moment as I did exactly what she asked, pumping her full of my cum for what felt like minutes as she squealed in delight. We collapsed breathless, me still inside her.

“Well that was something,” she finally laughed.

“Yeah, never done that before,” I nodded. “Now, if you excuse me…”

“Oh, you don’t want to cuddle a little?”

“I do, it’s just that your panties are cutting into my balls now.”

She gasped with concern and immediately helped free me before a professional intervention would’ve been necessary, saving both the testicle and the panties. As we cleaned up and I did the dishes, she laid back to catch her breath and smile.

“Say, would you grab that dessert I put in the fridge?” she asked, winking. “Although we kinda already skipped to the dessert.”

“On it,” I said as her phone suddenly buzzed.

She moved to silence it, but after noticing who was calling, she ran into my bedroom and shut the door, mumbling apologies. I could hear her asking things like “is he stable now?” and “well, when will the doctor see him?” along with “how long have you been waiting?” and “did they do a CT yet?” Emerging from the room she shook her head with disappointment and worry.

“I’m really sorry,” she said. “[Her relative] is in the ER. I’m going to need to go to the hospital tonight. Can we reschedule the sleepover to early next week?”

“Yeah, of course,” I nodded. “Go, go. Let me know if everything is ok.”

With that, she grabbed her overnight bag and ran out, leaving me with leftovers, dessert, and, let’s be totally honest now, pleasantly lighter in the midsection. Left to my own devices, I put on more clothing, grabbed my computer, and decided to do something very exciting. That’s right. Filling out client timesheets with the TV in the background. Oh, the nonstop party that was the life of a young professional, how it… ugh, forget it.

But not even an hour after Amy left, with my timesheets halfway done, an IM notification popped up on my screen from a very familiar user.

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?” it read.

“Believe it or not, all my plans for tonight fell through just a little while ago,” I replied.

“So, you’re just home alone?”

“Yeah. See you in 30?”

“Yup.”

True to her word, “Ellie” pulled into the parking spot right under my window in less than half an hour. I let her in, fixed her a drink, and we did the obligatory 15 to 20 minute chat which allowed us to pretend she didn’t just do a dick walk-in instead of booking an appointment, as per usual, two or three times a week. Another two to three days belonged to Amy. The rest of the days? Well, whatever happened then, happened. We were all adults and free to do as we wished.

Ellie was a bit of a mystery to me though. She was a curvy nurse with a mane of curly red hair who I met a few times through the local swinger group where she orbited from time to time. At first, she didn’t seem that interested in me, which was fine. Yes, she teased me, but it felt a lot more like drive-by ribbing than flirting, so I kept my distance. But we did chat from time to time, mostly to talk about scheduled group events, and one night, she sent me what quickly became a familiar message…

“Hey, what are you up to tonight?”

“Nothing,” I truthfully told her. “You?”

“I was out at [a thing we typically did in a group], but didn’t want to stay. Can you text me your address?”

I hesitated for a moment. Really? That’s how she was going to do this? I sent it, and within that trusty half an hour, she’d pulled up to my apartment for a quick chat and to borrow some salt for her barbecue rub. By which I mean she gave me the thumbs up on the cleanliness of my bachelor pad, got me to play-wrestle with her after enough playful teasing, and very quickly turned the play fighting into sex.

Within a few weeks, it became a ritual. When we were bored or needed to release some stress, we pinged each other with a quick one liner, and just like a pizza, she arrived at my place in 30 minutes or less to get a reliable sexual experience after a pleasant chat to settle down and give us both the illusion there was something more to our interactions than being just each other’s Old Reliable, which worked perfectly for where I was in life at the time.

Although… To be fair to Ellie, in the afterglow, or between rounds, she did actually share some real personal stories and feelings, things that were in fact meaningful and kept me focused on making sure she had a good time. Well, on top of my not exactly professionalism, but you know what I mean, so let’s just push past that.

One incident that particularly stood out for me was a time when pounding her doggy style, I got into a little too good of a rhythm and came before she did. Okay, it happens. Asking her not to move, I ran to quickly clean up and put on a fresh condom. In less than two minutes, I was once again behind her, teasing her still wet pussy with my tip as she stretched. With minimal effort, I slid right back inside her and quickly resumed my previous pace.

“Whoa, wait, I get to keep going?” she said, and not sarcastically, but genuinely shocked.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, “I’m sure you probably didn’t cum yet, so we should continue.”

“Oh wow!” she gasped in appreciation as I did indeed, keep going.

From that point on, I made sure that every time she visited, she got exactly what she wanted. We worked out a certain ritual to hit all her favorites, and I spent a lot of time kissing, caressing, and making sure everything flowed without being rushed. And she reciprocated in kind.

“So, have you done any new music stuff?” she asked to begin said ritual.

“I did a few things, yeah,” I nodded, my brain realizing that not even two hours after Amy left, I was about to have sex with another woman and deciding to tackle the moral implications later.

“Wanna put those things on?” asked Ellie.

“After you,” I said, pointing to the bedroom.

As usual, she stripped down to her bra and panties while I loaded the current experimental mix on my computer. As I discarded everything but my boxer briefs, the sound of mellow-ish EDM filled the room. (Yes, I know, like the classic Eastern Eurotrash I am.)

“I’m telling you, you should do more DJ stuff,” she sighed, stretching on her stomach as I gently straddled her and started a massage.

After a good five or six minutes to help her relax, I stood up and took off my underwear while she also got fully nude, flipped on her back, and made her way to the edge of the bed. Her head hung off to take me into her mouth as I fondled her G cups and kissed down her body until my mouth was firmly over her mound.

My tongue quickly went to work as hers worked my tip before I felt her mouth bop up and down on my cock, the swirling tip of her tongue trying to stimulate every part of it just as my mouth closed over her clit to apply some gentle suction. Her enthusiasm on the other end told me that I was hitting the right spots.

Finally, her hand pushed me out of her mouth. She licked and kissed my tip, then started stroking the shaft. Message received. I disengaged, got my shields up (translation: put on a condom), and as she got comfortable, started to tease her with my tip as she writhed impatiently under me.

“Oh my God,” she growled. “Can you stop playing around and just fuck me?”

Giving her a sly smirk, I slid into her. Ellie issued a satisfied grunt in response. My hips began to move to her rhythm, something established after about a month of frequent sessions during which I would just straight up ask what felt good and what didn’t, and she guided me until I hit a spot or a pace that made her gasp or sigh just right.

She was never very vocal. If we ever made a video — which, to be fair, [didn’t particularly work out well for me](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vffjgf/mf_how_i_accidentally_became_an_amateur_porn_star/) last time I tried — then the end result would feature off key piano music in the background, be in black and white, and sounds would be written on dialogue cards. But knowing her well enough, I could tell by the way she moved that she was enjoying herself, pressing her breasts into my chest, kissing me, grabbing on to my sides and hips.

With a simple brush of my hand on the underside of her thigh, I had her flip over on all fours and entered her from behind, quickly restoring my momentum and settling into a deep, hard, steady rhythm to which she gripped the blankets and softly gasped. Eventually, she slid onto her face, stretching out her arms and arching her back, tapping out for just a moment as I fell onto the bed on my back. Not a single word was exchanged. We just understood each other that well.

You really couldn’t do things like that with one nighters, but with FWBs, you could get the first few awkward times out of the way and figure out how to send their eyes rolling so hard into the back of their heads, you’ll swear you pulled the lever of a slot machine in Vegas and were waiting to see if you hit the jackpot. (I know, I know, they just have buttons now, poetic license.)

With a sigh, Ellie straddled me, grabbed ahold of my still throbbing cock and worked me inside, which took a fair bit of effort as she seemingly involuntarily clamped shut around me. That finally got a moan out of me as the resistance finally melted and I could feel her pulsating warmth.

“Wow, you are so tight right now,” I exhaled.

“Happens after I cum a few times,” she winked at me.

“For fuck’s sake,” I growled. “You’re like a goddamn orgasm ninja. That’s the one thing I can never really tell with you.”

Ellie just shrugged and started to ride me, finding a good pace and leaning forward so I could lick and suck on her nipples while my hands controlled her speed by gripping her ass, like the thrust levers of an airplane. She kept going, switching to grinding into me as her legs grew tired.

“No, I don’t think this is happening,” I sighed.

She dismounted me as I took off the condom. Aligning herself between my legs, she gently stroked me, gaining a little speed and firmness as she checked in with my reactions.

“Tell me what you need to cum,” she said, using her tongue to play with the underside of my tip.

“Just keep going like that,” I encouraged her, trying to relax and pay attention to the sensations.

Reaching over her hand, I took over her speed and rhythm. She took it as a sign to take my tip in her mouth and add suction to her tongue’s intense focus on what she knew was the perfect spot to stimulate.

“Yeah, just tell me what you need,” she momentarily pulled away and told me in a soft, breathy, gasping voice before quickly returning to what she was doing.

“I’m going to cum,” I warned as I felt all my muscles tense up.

She triumphantly pumped my cock as blasts of cum covered her tongue and cheeks, easing up as I calmed down, watching the thick ropes drip down to her breasts as she sat up with a very self-satisfied smile. “Pfft, I knew I could get you to erupt like Mt. Cumsuvius,” her eyes seemed to chuckle.

We cleaned off and collapsed next to each other for a little while. We didn’t cuddle. We just sort of lay next to each other, touching briefly once in a while, talking, laughing, and thinking out loud. As the clock moved well past midnight, she headed home, leaving me by myself for the night. With my nightcap in hand, I momentarily thought if I should try for a hat trick but realizing just how totally drained I was, I finished my drink, crawled into bed, and fell asleep the instant my head hit the pillow.

At this point, if you read my previous stories and are also math-minded, you’re probably thinking “wait, I know this, there’s a 66.66…% chance this ends with a twist!” And dear reader, you can now raise this to 75% because it absolutely does.

Roughly two months after these events, Ellie suddenly started canceling her dick appointments. Which was totally fine at first, but after the third time she canceled on me at the very last minute, I started wondering if something was going on. After enough prodding, she confided that she met someone and thought it could lead to something more serious.

“You like this guy a lot?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think I do,” she confirmed.

“Well, I wish you luck,” I replied. “I mean it. Take good care of yourself, okay?”

Freeze frame. Chyron: Ellie went on to marry the guy she met and adopt some very cute pugs. She and the narrator quickly lost touch due to the events that soon followed.

A few weeks after Ellie’s reveal, Amy — whose relative was fine by the way, I’m sure you were worried this whole time and skipped ahead to make sure it was just a scare — was visiting me, and as we got ready for an evening out, asked me to confirm some details on Facebook. You know, back before it became a cesspool of scams, wannabe terrorists, and fake new designed to get Boomer blood to boil, and still had its use as a mass communication platform.

As I opened the page, a message indicator popped up from someone I did not know. She was a curvy girl with a mop of curly red hair whose message said that she’d seen me around quite a bit, wanted to introduce herself, and was hoping we could catch up at the coffee shop where we spent a fair bit of time working on our laptops. (Astute readers may notice the narrator’s distinct type preferences here.)

“Ooh, flirting with other girls?” Amy teased, peering over my shoulder. “She’s cute.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “I keep seeing her quite a bit lately. It’s almost kind of weird how often. Think I should talk to her?”

“I say go for it,” said Amy after a moment’s notice.

Several days later, she walked into the shop as I was getting coffee, and I did indeed go for it. A week after that first chat, she woke up in my bed naked and blushing, while I texted Amy that I took her advice, and now we needed to have a chat.

Freeze frame. Chyron: Amy was not happy to be hoisted by her own petard. She remained married (Nested plot twist! Booyah!) but her husband got a promotion, improved his work-life balance, and the even happier couple returned to monogamy.

So you see, everybody was happy in the end. Just not with each other.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/viq1d6/mfmf_when_two_fwbs_visit_you_on_the_same_night