Madame B - Seduction

As my climax subsided and my breathing and pulse rate returned to normal, I padded over to the window and forced it open, letting the warm zephyr blow my hair and bring me back to reality. I got back into bed, enjoying the salty tang of the sea air, and closed my eyes while Rick and Sam continued. As I drifted off to sleep, it occurred to me that perhaps I was meant to overhear them. Perhaps they-or at least one of them-wanted it that way.

I awoke at nine a.m. to the smell of frying bacon. I was touched; Rick remembered my absolute favorite weekend breakfast: a fried-egg-and-bacon sandwich on lightly toasted white bread. Without knocking he burst in with the sandwich and a glass of orange juice on a tray.

"Breakfast in bed for my lady," he said, placing the tray on my sheet with a flourish.

"Thanks, honey," I said, suddenly conscious of my lace nightie, in which my breasts and nipples were clearly visible and, at the sight of Rick in his crisp white trunks, were getting erect again. I tried not to look at his tight pecs, at the faintest trace of a love bite above his left nipple, at his strong, broad thighs or his bulging biceps, and I especially tried not to sneak a glance at his dick, although the outline of it was clearly visible. This was madness. Rick and I had seen each other in our underwear a million times, but now that I'd heard him fuck, now that I'd rubbed my clit until I came while thinking about him and Sam, I felt like I'd crossed an invisible line and that things would never be the same between us. I felt like we'd actually had sex. Most of all, I was convinced that Rick somehow knew all this, that he could read my mind.

But once I'd showered and we'd had a walk along the beach to blow away last night's cobwebs and hangovers, things were back to normal. It was a glorious, hot day, and the three of us laughed and joked together, free of the dark, sexual undercurrent of last night's conversation. By lunchtime, I'd pretty much forgotten about my masturbatory fantasy, although I was reminded again that afternoon.

I don't know whose idea it was to take a cooling dip-it might have been Sam's. The boys went in first, and seeing them waist-deep in the turquoise sea, briny water dripping down their defined torsos, I felt last night's desire return. I decided to join them, reasoning that the cold, refreshing water would calm me down and take the edge off this desire that was threatening to spill over into obsession.

The sea was indeed cold, but it didn't dampen my desire. The boys teased me mercilessly, picking me up and throwing me in the water. The more I squealed, the higher they threw me. They dunked me, picked me up, and swung me around. Laughing and breathless, I tried to escape, but I was no match for two such strong men. Sam crept up behind me and pinned my arms behind my back while Rick tickled me, making me writhe and splash as I giggled uncontrollably. Rick knew exactly where I was ticklish, knew that the slightest touch on my sides or my neck were absolute torture. So why was he paying such close attention to the underside of my breasts, my inner thighs, and the backs of my legs? He was caressing my hottest erogenous zones, the parts of my body that seemed to have a direct link to my pussy, making it throb and come alive.

As Rick's hands traveled quickly over my body and Sam's chest and cock pressed into my shoulders and the small of my back, the agony of being tickled was replaced by the hot, urgent tension of arousal that has no easy way of being gratified. I stopped laughing and broke away from the boys, striking out and swimming strong strokes to take me away from them. I tried to clear my head and work out how to decipher these mixed signals. They seemed pretty serious and I wondered if this was their roundabout way of moving this forward. But how? I was wildly attracted to both guys, but did they want a threesome? Just Sam? Just Rick?

But then it could be that all the flirting, teasing, and touching was completely innocent. And if I said something, if I showed I was taking it seriously, it would mean at best taking the wind out of everybody's sails for the rest of the weekend, and at worst running the risk of offending the guys and ruining the best friendship I'd ever had. My mind was no clearer as I turned to swim back to shore, and seeing Sam and Rick waist-deep in the water sharing a slow, lazy kiss didn't help. The sight of Sam's long, pink tongue idly exploring Rick's lips created a fresh wave of heat between my legs, and I couldn't help but wonder if their dicks were getting hard just below the waves.

Once on shore, I decided to play it safe. Yes, I was sexually frustrated, but the facts were this: I was a straight woman. These guys were gay. That meant they didn't "do" women. So I would keep my feelings to myself, enjoy the rest of the evening, and either take care of myself with my own right hand, or, hopefully, find a straight guy to fuck when we went out tonight.

That Saturday night Rick and Sam took me to a recently-opened club. It was under the old arches on the seafront, and one look around told me that my chances of pulling a hetero man were roughly nil. Inside, it was dark and cavernous with a vast dance floor and lots of little warrens and cubbyholes. Green and pink lasers bounced off silver disco balls, and high-energy dance music was playing at a volume that seemed almost to shake the room. The atmosphere was fun, unpretentious, and sexually exciting, even if I wasn't the right gender for these clubbers. We had a couple of drinks at the bar, and then the three of us made our way onto the dance floor. With one cheesy disco hit after another keeping us dancing, eventually we all grew hot, sweaty, and tired, three more sizzling bodies in a sea of beautiful people.

I raised my arms above my head as the opening bars of my favorite dance track, a sleazy, suggestive tune with a heavy beat and sexy lyrics, filled the club. I closed my eyes and let the music take me over, swaying my hips in time with the beat. I rolled back my head so that my long blond hair trailed over my shoulders. Before I knew it, Rick was dancing behind me, so close that I felt his belt buckle digging into my back. His arm wrapped itself around my waist, a familiar touch, electrifying now that it was suffused with sexual tension. In front of me, Sam moved closer, his eyes level with Rick's over the top of my head, his hands on my waist, his dick just above the waistband of my skirt. The three of us danced like that for the rest of the song, the guys moving in closer and closer so that by the end of the tune, my swollen, gyrating pussy was wedged in hard between their two thighs and cocks, compressed like a flower between the pages of a book. This had to be deliberate. And if it was teasing, it was cruel. Couldn't they see what they were doing to me? My pussy was on fire, every inch of my skin tingled, and frustration and desire must have been etched into my facial features. If this was a joke, it had gone too far.

But then a large, smooth hand on my breast and warm breath on my neck made me realize that it wasn't just a playful joke. Rick and I had always flirted but only in the way a gay man and his fag-hag can-totally harmlessly. This was making me wet-there was surely something real in it. Sam cupped my breast, bent his head to my ear and said, "You know, you're very beautiful. You're enough to turn two gay men straight. For the evening, anyway."

I didn't need to reply. My nipple hardening between his thumb and forefinger betrayed how thrilled I was. I blinked, speechless, wishing I could see Rick's face to read his expression. Instead, I felt his warm breath on my neck and his voice in my ear. "Come on, Kyra," he said. "You must know what you've been doing to us all weekend?" I whipped my body around 180 degrees to face Rick, unsure of what I would find. I saw him lean in to kiss me, and my mind began racing a mile a minute. Something was happening now. The most important friendship in my life was about to change forever, and I didn't know if I wanted it to. What if it was weird? What if it was awful? When he kissed me, deep yet tender, with the stubble on his jaw scraping sexily against my cheek, it felt only natural. I wanted more of it. While he kissed me, Sam's hands slid in between my body and Rick's, kneading my tits, finding my braless breasts under the flimsy stuff of my top, caressing them with an expert touch for someone allegedly a stranger to female flesh. As Rick's hard-on pressed into my stomach, I felt the stirring of Sam's cock in the small of my back: two big, hard cocks. The power and desire in me were so overwhelming that I'd have taken my clothes off and fucked the pair of them on that dance floor if they had asked me to.