[FFM] My first big breakup, my first threesome, my first woman, my first man over the age of 60, my first giant cock

Adam and I got together when I was 23, during our first time at Glastonbury Festival. We made out during Flaming Lips, and we kept making out, and kept seeing each other, until it became clear to us and everyone around us that we were indeed in a relationship. He was a couple of years younger than me. It was fun for several months. We’d talked about going back for our first anniversary, but by that time things had gotten pretty sour. We were arguing constantly; Adam’s drinking was taking a toll. I wasn’t enjoying drinking that much, and usually opted to retreat to the bedroom when he inevitably insisted on getting some cans in. It made him irritable and hostile, which (as well as finding empty Oranjeboom cans all over the house I shared with two friends who weren’t that keen on him) made me irritable and hostile. So we fought a lot. I told him that I wasn’t prepared to get drunk in a field for three days with things the way they are. He went by himself, and I spent our anniversary watching films.

He came straight to mine the day after he came back, still visibly hung over, and pitched the idea that he’d pay for a B&B stay as a belated anniversary present. I was at the point of splitting up with him, but this was a gesture and for whatever reason I said okay.

To his credit, he found us a good place. It was situated in what’s known as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty (if you’ve read my previous stories you’ll know how much that appeals to me). There was a large garden area with a beautiful manor house and a charming cottage adjacent for special guests. We had a room in the manor, pretty burgundy decor, big wooden bed. We arrived late, too late for dinner, but got up with the sun to have our coffee and breakfast at the table with the other guests.

There, we got chatting to Edward and Esme, who were staying in the cottage for the anniversary of their wedding. Edward was a Historian in his 60s, Esme was younger, I think early 50s – a painter, she said. They were both in pretty good shape for their age, physically fit. Edward had a little bald spot atop a head of nicely combed white hair, while Esme’s was tied in a tight bun. They were both full of life, and very charming. Adam was studying History, so he and Edward had a good natter. Esme took to calling me “Kitten” and was very touchy-feely, always a motherly hand on my wrist or shoulder. I thought she was beautiful, I hope I look as good at that age.

We agreed we might see them for dinner, but we ended up hiking most of that day. Adam’s stamina wasn’t too high, and he got tired and complainy before too long. We’d walked close enough to a local village that we stopped at a restaurant in the early evening and with dinner, he drank. With drink, we argued. And we called a taxi, and argued on our way back to the B&B. And argued in our room. And on and on. It was after 10 that I told him I was going to see if they had another room available.

Well, they didn’t. But Edward and Esme were downstairs in the parlour. Esme came out and asked why I needed a room. I straight up told her the truth, that we were fighting and our relationship was basically done for. “Oh, kitten” – that over-familiar stroke of the arm. “You don’t have to go back up straight away, come and sit with us for a little while.”

So I joined them. I took them up on a dram of single malt and sipped, while Esme told me about her art career and showed me her book of sketches from the day’s walk. It was so nice to just huddle up with her like that, it made me forget the tension and misery that was waiting for me upstairs. They conferred in whispers for a moment, and Edward asked if I’d prefer to sleep on the sofa in the cottage instead.

I protested a little, of course. I didn’t want to ruin their anniversary too. They swatted down my reluctance with cheerful smiles and pats on the shoulder. They were being so friendly, and I really didn’t want to go back up. So we made our way across the path together into the adorable little rustic dwelling nearby.

There was even a fire. Well, almost. There was a picturesque old fireplace with glowing faux coals. Good enough for me. Edward topped off my whisky and made his way back into the bedroom, leaving me and Esme together.

“How are you doing there, Kitten?” I told her I couldn’t get my mind off Adam. I’ll never forget, verbatim, what she said next.

“I know something that might help, if you’re willing to be a bit naughty. Edward is actually very good at cunnilingus.”

“Oh…” I laughed. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Is that right?”

“If you want, you could let him show you. He’s quite talented.” She was stroking my hair and smiling expectantly, straight into my face. I returned the smile with what I thought was polite mischief. Edward came back in with a jug of water and some glasses.

“I was just telling Cat about your talents, Edward” My polite smile was utterly frozen. I took a gulp from my glass. “Oh Esme, you didn’t. Sorry about her. She’s always trying it on.”

Esme’s voice peaked indignantly “I think she’d actually quite like to, actually. She’s had a rotten evening.”

Edward shook his head with laughter, sitting down and giving me the same expectant smile. “Is that true, you want to?”

Of course I did. Older people are my weakness, and there were two of them. And I was bored and fed up. And I was a slut. And I’d never had a threesome. Or been with another woman. And Adam hadn’t fucked me in two weeks. And

We chatted for another half an hour, exchanging sexual anecdotes. I learned a little bit about their history – obviously, they were seasoned swingers. I heard tell of a few parties and unlikely encounters. I told them about John, my previous mature conquest. I told them about Adam’s sexual tepidness, how his drinking had ruined our sex life. I reiterated that it was basically over. I’d formally dump him in the morning, but we both knew. It had been over for a while. You’ll notice I haven’t even gone to the trouble of describing him physically; this was not a breakup that would linger.

“Oh, why not” I said, meekly. “So… do I just…” I squirmed a little, shuffling in my seat, unsure of how they wanted me. Esme reached over and popped the button on my shorts, pulling them open. “Just slip these off, Kitten.” I glanced back and forth between them both with the same wide-eyed, nervous grin as I eased them, and my panties, down to the floor. I slid down a little and opened my legs. Edward was already positioning himself in front of me. Esme put an arm around me and stroked my hair and my shoulder as her husband began tenderly kissing my clit.

My intake of breath turned into faint giggling. I was still so nervous, if willing. Esme giggled with me and whispered to relax, caressing my arms and my hair and holding me. Each kiss he planted on my clit was gentle and considered, his fingers spreading me. He began licking at it, slow and wet, and drawing it into his mouth to suck a little. My giggling became soft moans. My back arching ever so slightly as pleasure took hold of me. Esme held my hand and kissed my cheek. I breathed “do you do this with every girl you meet?” Edward’s deep chuckling made my cunt tingle. “Only when we find one as pretty as you” – now, I love being told I’m pretty. Especially when I’m being sexual. Sex makes me feel pretty and being told I’m pretty while I’m having sex, that’s prettiness squared. So my arousal grew and I squealed happily into her shoulder, and began humping his mouth. He was so ready for this, and started to eat my cunt in earnest.

He was good, it was true. It wasn’t just the technique, but the enthusiasm. It could just tell he adored it. I was sweaty and musky from a day’s hiking and he drank it all in, his brow furrowing, eyes closed in intense concentration. Tonguefucking me, lapping at my clit and soaking my pussy in his spit. My whole torso was undulating in response to his relentless licking and sucking. Esme was eagerly helping the rest of my clothes off, feeling out my young curves with her weathered fingers. My brow was as knotted as Edward’s, my mouth fixed open in shock and confusion at how perfectly this stately old man was overwhelming my cunt. Esme clasped my hand tight and I clung on to her in response. I leant my head against hers and wailed with my whole chest, arching and spasming, Edward rearing up to admire the sight of me nuzzling into his wife while I came.

“Oh my god” I was panting, scrambling to get upright. “What the fuck did you just do to me?” I meant every word, and the sentence collapsed into laughter. Esme rested her forehead against mine and I instantly lurched into her to kiss her. We cradled each other’s faces and stared with full eye contact between kisses, wet and deep. I was still breathing so heavily but I fucking wanted her, while I was still glowing with that orgasm, I wanted her. I was aware I was ruining yet another sofa, my spit-soaked crotch sliding around as I squirmed. Edward placed himself on the other side of me and I reeled to kiss him as well, their aged musks and Esme’s perfume turning me on even more. I twisted back and forth to swap kisses with them both in turn, greedy. An arm around each, pulling them both against me.

We all lost our clothes on the way to the bed. They looked beautiful. They were truly in great shape, but the signs of age just work for me. Stretchmarks, mottled and patchy skin, wrinkles, things hanging a little more than they used, all of it – I love seeing a body that’s been lived in. These two had beautiful bodies. They had lived in them.

Esme lay back on the bed and spread for me, and for the first time in my life I touched another woman with my lips. I thought about Edward’s habits the entire time, trying loving kisses and sucking and licking between her labia. The taste of her drove me wild, and my eyes were locked on her face, grinning lovingly down at me, whispering that I was doing so well, that it felt so good. I was asking her for reassurance constantly – checking if I was doing it right, if she was going to cum. Edward had laid down next to her, stroking what I could now see was his very substantial cock very close to my head. My eyes fixated on that aged, plump, veiny shaft as I sucked his wife’s clit into my mouth and teased it with my tongue. I’d never had a cock like that inside me before. No wonder they were into swinging.

“I’m ready for you to fuck me, Edward” she moaned. I kneeled up and made way. Esme explained she could never seem to have an orgasm without Edward inside her. I leaned my head into her thigh and took in their smells once more and watched closely as the head of his cock pushed her open, and inch by inch, the thing disappeared inside her. She began moaning almost immediately, gripping the bedsheets with one hand and already furiously rubbing her clit with the other. She whispered his name over and over, and then mine, and his, her eyes screwed shut as she moaned our names to herself like a mantra. I stroked her torso, her breasts, her hair, her cheeks, locking eyes with her again as she built steadily to her climax. She was working her clit with such aggression while her husband’s massive cock shunted in and out of her. An urgent “yes-yes-yes” and she was moaning deeply and longingly, her left hand scrambling at my shoulder for touch. I clasped her hand in mine as she had when I came. Edward sank deep into her and rested while she quivered and whimpered.

He soon slid out, that enormous prick shimmering with her juices. Or maybe just my spit. I lurched forward and did what I’d been thinking about since the second he produced the thing – I wrapped my lips around it and began sucking hungrily. I could barely get half of him in my mouth (a slut though I am, I have never mastered the deepthroat) but I tried, slurping and sucking her taste off him, slathering my tongue up and down his shaft. I made out shamelessly with that colossal old man cock. Esme kneeled up next to him and I stared up at both of them while I sucked, drinking in their warm elder gazes of admiration.

Esme moved off to get a condom from their bedside drawer the second I said “I fucking want this inside me.” Every second I was not being fucked, I was pumping this big cock with both hands, glaring at him, half-crazed with horn. I took his sagging balls into my mouth while she rolled it onto him, sucking hard enough to make him wince and grimace – but apparently not to ask me to stop.

I wheeled around on all fours and presented my arse to him, my pert, round, pretty, young arse. I felt him resting on my pussy for a moment before Esme pulled me open and guided him in. I made a slightly stunned “oh” sound as my cunt strained to accommodate his girth, my hole hugging him tight, him pushing in deeper and deeper as my eyes widened and I heaved air into my lungs and let out a strangled wail of overwhelmed pleasure. My face and shoulders fell to the mattress and just as instinctively, I pushed back into him, drawing all of him inside me and wailing and wailing and… fuck… he felt bigger than he looked. It was too much, and I wanted all of it. I screwed my face up and made whatever sounds my mouth wanted to make while he filled me more and harder than I’d been filled in my life. His leathery hands gripped me around my waist and dragged me back onto his cock with every thrust. I couldn’t handle him and I wanted as much as he could give.

Esme rested her head next to mine and gave me the sweetest little kiss on the forehead. “Enjoying my husband’s cock, Kitten?” I had nothing but vowels in response. My fingers were already on my clit and rubbing, knowing that I was going to cum brutally hard with this thing stretching me out. I was starting to acclimatise, and with that, the fullness of pleasure was reaching me. I didn’t leave my clit alone for a moment. Esme’s hands were all over me. He was pounding me, I could feel droplets of his sweat landing on my back. My own sweat was soaking the sheets. He bottomed out in my cunt and pressed his body hard into me, and I felt him throb, painfully deep. The realisation hit me that I’d just let an old man cum inside me and with that, I clamped down, squirming and shuddering and squealing once more, feeding his orgasm into my own. I fell forward onto the bed, still writhing, and gulped air as best I could, hyperventilating, my cunt aching and sore and throbbing with what it had just been subjected to.

Esme and I cuddled up together and she held me while I breathed and waited for my heartrate to fall. By the time Edward was back in the room, we were kissing again, our naked bodies pressed together, staring at each other, smiling. I studied every wrinkle on her beautiful face. Edward cuddled up behind me and held us both. I think I said something like “alright then, fuck Adam” – or something equally corny. I was so fucking happy, and so exhausted.

You know how the rest of it goes, more or less. I crashed in their bed. I wanted to keep fucking the next morning, but Adam came looking for me and we said our goodbyes and he drove us back. We officially ended our relationship on the drive home, and I barely ever saw him again. And that, honestly, is all I have to tell of this tale.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/vs0f4q/ffm_my_first_big_breakup_my_first_threesome_my