Four Friends Ch. 03 – Sunday with Katie by oldbutnottooold

Four Friends Ch. 03 – Sunday with Katie by oldbutnottooold

Discover the steamy escapades of four friends in "Four Friends Ch. 03 - Sunday with Katie." Dive into this adult sex story filled with passion, excitement, and unexpected twists. Read now for a thrilling Sunday with Katie.<br/>
Later that night, just before I went to bed, I got a text from Chloe.

Oh my god, what did you do to her? She’s crazed like I’ve never seen before. Not in a bad way – actually it’s a lot of fun – but you’ve got to tell me how you did that

10 minutes later, before I responded I’m jealous you’ve never left me like that. Gotta talk about that, I mean, you just met her.

Needless to say, for the first time in years, I didn’t need porn before I went to sleep.

On Sunday, I got up late, had breakfast, cleaned the house. Maybe I was being overly hopeful, but a good house cleaning never goes to waste. I showered, trimmed my nails, and did some other manscaping, remaining hopeful but not overly confident. I had just sat down to some mid-afternoon reading when there was a knock on the door. I nearly jumped out of my skin. I calmed myself, opened the door.

Katie barged right past me. “What the hell was that last night! You nearly killed me – I couldn’t think, I couldn’t relax. I had to jerk off at least 3 times before I got to sleep. I could hate you.”

“Good afternoon to you as well. Did you have fun with the girls last night?”

She punched me in the chest. “Fun? I was incoherent and nearly killed at least two boys at the club when they got too close. And don’t get me started on the look Jack gave me after you left. I looked like a hot mess. You fucking bastard.”

“You’re welcome. I thought you looked ravishing, as you do now.”

She plopped on the couch and glared at me. “Don’t make fun of me – I just threw something on and came over.”

“I am not making fun of you, never will. I think you are ravishing – you don’t need makeup or fancy hair or any of that stuff. You’re beautiful – especially, it seems, when worked up.”

“I’m not ‘worked up’, just frustrated as hell. I’ve been a pent-up piece of stress for weeks, between school, teaching and that asshole boyfriend and when I finally start feeling something – something real – you cut me off.”

“I told you that denial is my preferred form of torture. You were warned.”

“But I didn’t believe you.” She leaned back. “I’ve never known a man who would put off their own, let alone my, satisfaction. What the hell are you?”

“Not a boy. Not really an adult, but definitely not a boy. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Oh no, you’re not going to fool me again. No alcohol for this girl.”

“Water then? I’m going to have some iced tea -I’ll bring you one.”

Calmer and quieter, “That’d be great”.

“Come on – I’ll show you the house.”

I live in a 1920’s cottage- small, 5 rooms with high ceilings and good light. Not too much space, but fine for one person. A bunch of art, lots of books, comfy seating, a kitchen I’m proud of.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I went to guys place that was clean. Adult. You even have a nice kitchen – do you cook?”

“One of my pleasures, though I’m better at dessert than I am with anything other than grilling. Do you like to cook?”

“Yes, but….hold on, your trying to distract me again, aren’t you?” I just smiled and handed her the iced tea.

“I’ve asked you before, but this time I haven’t had a drink – what’s next? I can’t stand it – talk to me.”

“Let’s go back to the living room.” I went to the couch, and she sat facing me, cross-legged, on the floor.

“Tell me, as clearly as you can, what you want. What you liked, your limits, especially anything you don’t want.”

She stared at me. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have to be here, would I?” For the first time, I believed her pout.

“I’m sorry. I enjoy frustrating you, but not like this. Seriously, this time, we need to be sure I understand you – there are just too many ways this could go wrong. For both of us.”

“Agreed.”

“I promise we’ll figure this out together. I’ll ask direct questions and answer as best as you can.”

She seemed to relax a bit, grabbed my knee and squeezed. “It’s just I’m closer to something I’ve wanted for so long….” She looked directly into my eyes, almost pleading. Even as a creepy old guy I was touched, and more than a bit turned on.

“These questions are not meant to frustrate. If you can, answer simply. If you can’t, try stream of consciousness; I promise I won’t judge. Everything you say stays between us and we can stop anytime you want. Ok?”

She leaned her back against the couch, took a drink of tea. “Ok, ask away.”

“Which felt better – being restrained and left alone, or being touched last night?”

“No warmup questions? Something easier to answer?”

“Nope – this is the only way I know, unless you wanna stop.”

“No, no, no. No more stopping.” She paused, looked out the window. “Obviously, I really liked both and the first led to the second. I could have stayed like that Friday night for a long time. Lost but safe, feeling my skin pressed against itself. Leaning on you. Especially when you added the belt around my legs, wow….”

Another sip. “But yesterday, oh my god. I was not prepared for how it felt to have your hand in my hair and my arms pulled over my head. And when you – I don’t know what to call it – cupped me? No one’s ever done that to me before. It was exhilarating. I thought I was going to cum right there.” She stared into the distance for a minute, closed her eyes. I waited.

“I guess both, really, one leading to the other. But If I had to choose…” she looked at me and I nodded “then the way you gently controlled me yesterday. That was new, unexpected, and so unlike porn. Does that make sense?”

“Perfectly.” I took a sip of tea, shifting in my seat. “Did being in public add or detract? Did you remember you were in a bar’s bathroom yesterday – or was that not important?”

“I don’t know, hadn’t thought about it. I guess I did enjoy the risk of discovery Friday night, and liked knowing my girlfriends were there. They’ll never admit it, but I suspect they were a little jealous it was me and not them. But I could have been anywhere yesterday. I totally forgot we were in the bar. Now that you ask, I have no idea what I’d have done if someone walked in on us.” She looked at me again, surprise and discomfort on her face.

“Was the pace right?”

“Slow and steady? Yes. Why do people rush so much?”

“Because they’re idiots but were not talking about them here. On topic, please.”

“Sorry.”

“If we had more time yesterday, how would you have wanted things to end? Did you like being cut short? Did you want to keep going?”

“First of all, fuck you” smiling at me “you are a real son-of-a-bitch. I loved being left wanting more – but damn you. Yes, I wanted you to keep touching me. I wanted to be bend me over the sink and fuck me. I wanted you to order me to do something to you.” She leaned in. “I wanted a lot more.”

“So, to be crass, you wanted to be fingered?” She nodded. “Fucked?” Nodded again. “What else?”

She reached out with both hands, digging short nails into my thigh. “What else? Everything else. I’m not sure there is anything you could have done to me I would have objected to.”

“Things you’ve never done before but fantasized about?”

“You mean like anal? Yes! It’s never even occurred to me that I might want to try that, but yes, in that state I would have.” She leaned back, looked at me. “Have you always had this effect on women?”

“Definitely not. And anyway, I’m just trying to read your thoughts. Ok, which was more important – the pleasure or the discomfort?”

“I enjoyed being stretched, forced to hold a position, if that is what you mean.”

“Did you want that to go further? Harder?”

“Again, I don’t know.” She sat back. “I wasn’t thinking anything specific, and I don’t know how I’d react. Maybe – but maybe not. Does that make sense?”

“Of course it does. We’re all wired a little differently, and while some people know what they like, most of us don’t without trying. Can I ask some specific questions and give me a gut reaction. Don’t think, just answer. Chocking?”

“Yes” her hands came up to her face “Oh my god, I can’t believe I just said that.”

“Harder hair pulling?” “No”

“Spanking?” “Yes, but as part of something else – not on its own”.

“Good; very specific. Do you want to be called good girl?”

“Ew, no. Who’d want that?”

“You’d be surprised, and good cause I find that weird as well. Being overpowered?” She looked questioningly at me, so I added “physically being moved around without asking?”

“Oh, that sounds fun.”

“Positions?”

“Whatever comes at the time. I like them all”.

“How do you cum best? Oral? Fingering? On top? From behind?”

“Oral and fingering work really well me. The girls think I’m strange because I prefer being on the bottom rather than on top.”

“Trust me, nothing and everything about sex is strange. How oral are you?”

“I think I’m pretty good at it, but its not my favorite. But I like to have something in my mouth when I’m having sex – I sometimes bite my own hair.” She looked at me again, quizzically “I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that.”

“Like I said, no judgement. Last question – fast or drawn out?”

“Oooohh, it depends? Both? Depends on the mood and how long since it’s been. Right now, with the way you’ve left me, fast would be fantastic.” She drew her knees up, looking squarely at me. “Ok, I’m even more worked up than before. When the hell do we do something?”

“Hold your horses, just a little more. Do you have any questions for me? Anything else I should know?”

“I’ve never been the kind of girl who likes dad bods and I’ve certainly never slept with anyone your age. Sorry, but that’s true.”

“Seems perfectly normal.”

“I’m on birth control but still want to use condoms.” She stopped and considered. “If it’s not too personal, other than the chance to sleep with a girl, why are you doing this? It’s not like I’m anyone special.”

“First of all, after the questions I just asked, nothing is too personal. Second, you are incredibly special. I’ve been around awhile, and you are extraordinary. Your whole little circle of friends is remarkable. You’re beautiful and interesting and smart and curious. Who could ask for any more than that?”

“And why am I interested? I know I shouldn’t be, but curiosity gets the better of my limited judgement. Luckily, you don’t seem repulsed, and our proclivities seem compatible. But let’s be clear – you can end this anytime and I’ll understand. I’ll never tell a soul and swear in court nothing happened. You may want to give up control in certain ways, but you’re in charge of when and how this moves forward. Ok?”