I went with my boyfriend to a friend’s party, still not knowing everyone too well. Circle of Death led to me running around pants- and bra-less; a playful ass-slapping train, after which I heard the guy who slapped me remark to my boyfriend, “I FELT that ass!”; me getting high in the back bedroom and offering Ass Slapper a hit; going in there again later and smoking with him and his friend; the door was closed at some point, I’m not sure who closed it; them feeling me up and massaging my breasts, then laying me down onto my back on the bed; me in my underwear with my shirt hiked over my bare breasts, them with jeans on and no shirts; them grinding together against me, one against each of my thighs and rubbing against each other; the door opening, and another guy from the party motioning to us to ask if he could watch- I nodded my head as I moaned while the guys continued grabbing me all over.
I was high, horny, ecstatic for these two men hungry for me. I lived thoroughly in each moment, lost in the sensations of physical touch, enhanced by thc and unbridled sexiness.
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He’s a little over-the-top” sometimes, but it’s enjoyable. He is at the same time respectfully sweet, and erotically assertive. At a later party, he noticed I had a sore shoulder, and came up behind me to begin massaging it; then, after I melted into his touch, reconfirmed my acceptace of the intimate touch of his hands. I excpected to feel a clutching need in the way his fingers dug into my muscles, maybe I expected it because it seemed impossible for someone to have such an effect on me and not feel it themself.
Once touch was established, we bumped into each other a lot more during the second half of the party. He ended up near me toward the end of the party as everyone was recovering from their various states of undress, just as I had asked the host to demonstrate a rope tie on me. I had never experienced actual shibari rope tying before, and it’s something I’ve always been intensely curious about and eager to try.
Earlier in the party, the host and I had traded shirts during a drinking game, so I was clad in a pink bra and an open button-up shirt. He came closer and saw me put my wrists together for the host to begin fastening my arms together. It was simple wrist bondage, but the control the host had over me as he secured my hands, combined with the fact that I knew the other man had approached and was seeing me, breasts bulging between two arms stretched forward, my heart pumpimg, my breath deepening as I felt that need rise within me, the need for more.
I couldn’t look at anyone, it was the horniest I’d been in a while, all my fantasies beginning to come to pass. I stared at my bound wrists, my insides pulsing with lust, and he began to ask questions of the host, as he was learning some knots himself. The host got into teaching and asked nonchalantly if his friend could try the binding on me. I agreed and basked in the touch of his fingertips against my skin. I’m sure the smallest moan must have escaped me, there was no way I could contain myself under the gentle, soft dance he performed with the rope around my wrists and slipping through his fingers.
Later that week, we texted some, as we had exchanged phone numbers in the empty kitchen, teasingly close to each other in the low light and quiet air. The flirtation between us was natural, although I found some of his dramatic turns of phrase to be surprisingly endearing. We shared fantasies back and forth, him wating to tie me up, and me dying to be bound and fucked. I mentioned that I still think about that first party, the way the two of them looked grinding and pinning me down under their gyrating bodies and seeking hands and lips. He mentioned how much he enjoyed having me underneath him, pantsless and later stripped of my underwear. We teased about the next party, or the next time we neet up. There’s another party later this month.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/d1ndft/the_list_number_27a_prose_threesome_drug_use_true