Literotic asexstories – Our Little Secret by Midfielder86,Midfielder86
It was a nice night. Relatively warm, mid-70s, the sun had just begun to set on another early summer evening. I considered lighting up a smoke as I surveyed the lot yet again. The dinner rush had ended; only a few straggler patrons left — and me, of course, as I sat in my car waiting.
A car turned into the lot — was it her? No, they’re heading for the drive-thru. Damn.
7:59 PM. Had it really only been 1 minute? It felt like an eternity. A second car pulled into the lot and parked off to the other side, perhaps 10 spaces away. This has to be her.
* buzz buzz * My phone began to vibrate. I answered nervously, trying to sound suave. As I answered, I looked across the lot to see the woman in the other car looking at me. I nodded briefly and hung up the phone, taking a deep breath and opening my car door to finally greet her.
She stepped out of her car and opened her driver’s side rear door. I steeled myself and stood firm as she grabbed a small duffel bag and headed towards me. I could tell she was a bit nervous as well as our eyes met, a sight which strangely calmed me down.
Much to my surprise, she looked — thankfully — average. Of course we’d shared pictures online, but I suppose you never know until you actually meet someone.
“Maria?” I asked, already knowing the answer as she walked toward me.
“Ryan?” She gave a half-smile. She had dressed modestly for the occasion. She was roughly the size she had described herself, a mere 5’4″, 135 pounds. Not petite, but not overweight — in any event, she had a completely different body-type from my usual girl. I tried to put that out of my mind as we made eye contact once again. Her skin was as caramel-colored as I’d imagined, and she wore her blonde-brown hair in a ponytail tucked inside of a Detroit Tigers cap. It was almost as if she didn’t want to be recognized. Her jeans were seemingly skin-tight, the kind of jeans that looked like they take forever to get on. Combined with her t-shirt, her seemingly innocuous look helped to show off her curves without being too overt about it.
She approached, and we hugged awkwardly. “I remember the rules, no kissing,” she smirked as we embraced. I blushed — I can’t believe she remembered such an old rule of mine, but she was right — I had vowed not to kiss another woman as long as I was dating my girlfriend.
We made small talk before finally heading out, and as I began to drive, the reality finally set in. Literally a year after our chance encounter online, and after developing a strong, albeit very sexual, online friendship, I had finally met Maria. She guided me through the winding suburban highways and streets as we chatted, the kind of awkward chat that old friends who hadn’t seen each other in years would have. Ignoring the obvious sexual elephant in the room, I asked about her kids, who the babysitter was, and so on. Up close, she certainly showed her age; the lines in her face telling the tale of the divorced single mother. She was 39, a mother of two and 12 years my senior, but neither of us seemed to mind as we chatted excitedly.
Not 25 minutes later, I pulled down a nice middle-class cul-de-sac on her direction. She scanned the mailboxes in-between peeks at her phone, finally stopping me at 117 Pine Woods Drive. I turned the car off and we sat in the dark in the street in front of the house. There were a few cars in the driveway, but most of the interior lights were off. Was this it?
She smiled nervously and nodded. I looked at her, finally serious for the first time since we met, and asked if she was sure she was ready. She nodded again, eagerly. I resisted the urge to kiss her and began to dial the number in my phone that Mike had given to me.
“Hello?” A man answered.
“Is this Mike?” I questioned.
“Is this Ryan?” He shot back immediately.
“I believe we’re here,” I replied. That cut the tension.
“Awesome! Come to the front door and ring the bell, Tara will let you in.”
Maria could hear the conversation from the loud speaker on the phone. I could tell she was excited but nervous. “What if the guys are weird?” she asked, suddenly cautious.
“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” I replied, reaching into the backseat to grab her duffel bag. “If you’re uncomfortable, we’ll leave immediately. These guys have a good reputation.”
It was true, they did have a good reputation. Within a month of meeting Maria online, we had both gotten to discussing our mutual group sex fantasy. Her ex had no interest, and of course, I have a girlfriend, so neither of us ever imagined it happening. But here we were, having found an online group willing to indulge her multiple-man fantasy. And they did come highly recommended — though they were a private club meeting only monthly, their “testimonials” were impressive. Per the reports, the men were friendly, clean, and fun. And I didn’t drive an hour to meet Maria for nothing.
I pressed my hand against the small of her back as we walked up the front steps. Never in a million years would I have guessed what debauchery goes on in this house, in this neighborhood. I had expected a frat house, not a cookie-cutter suburb. I rang the bell, Maria by my side, and within seconds a woman answered. She looked to be in her early 40s, maybe 5’9″ (taller than me), brunette, fit. Not too bad looking, actually. She scanned me up and down — “you must be Ryan and Maria?” Maria nodded, and the woman broke into a big smile. “Nice to meet you, I’m Tara. Come on in,” she gave Maria a hug and helped her inside.
I followed the women inside cautiously. We had talked with Tara before; she was Mike’s wife and the facilitator, of sorts. Before I could even get my shoes off, Tara had whisked Maria away and a man was asking what I wanted to drink.
I kindly asked for a beer, and he introduced himself as David, a member of their group. He looked to be in his early 30s, about my height 5’7″, but a bit stockier and without glasses. We shook hands and he grabbed me a beer out of the fridge and led me to the living room in the back of the house where 2 other men were sitting and watching the hockey playoffs. I introduced myself to the men, shaking their hands before sitting down. Mike was there — we had spoken previously, he was the homeowner and pseudo-leader of the group. He looked to be in his mid-40s, tall, salt-and-pepper hair, thin. Paul was the other man, he couldn’t have been much older than me, perhaps 6’0″, average build. Within minutes we were fast friends, shooting the shit about the NHL and drinking beers like old friends.
Evan was the next to arrive. He couldn’t have been much older than 21, and he sat down on the couch on the opposite end from me. The beer continued to flow, and seemingly 20 minutes had passed until Tara and Maria entered the living room, giggling and carrying mixed drinks. Tara sat down on the floor next to Mike and gave Maria a look as she immediately came to sit right next to me on the couch. We snuggled briefly, not really acknowledging each other too much as we chatted with the others.
Maria seemed to be getting along with the men. They took turns asking her questions about her background — 39, Puerto Rican-American, divorced, kids aged 8 and 11 — her relationship status — single — her hobbies — sadly, mostly just taking care of the kids and working, and so on. Of course, I’d heard all of this before, but was happy to have her on my arm as she answered, her body warm against mine. As much as I’d promised myself that I had no feelings for her other than pure sexual lust, I began to doubt myself.
Kyle and James were the last two to arrive. They claimed to be brothers, though I have no idea. Both were older, perhaps Mike’s age though they looked a little older. The small talk continued and the drinks kept coming as the night went on, Maria inching closer to me with every passing minute. The longer we went, the more I noticed the men hanging on Maria’s words, eyeing her, checking her out — and that snapped me back to reality, once again realizing why we were here.
The hockey game ended, and the clock inched towards 10 PM. I could tell Maria was definitely loosening up; the alcohol had gotten to her and she had started to giggle a lot more, seemingly laughing at every joke one of the men told.
Tara and Maria made eye contact, and Tara seemed to egg Maria on with only her eyes. Tara moved to Mike’s lap, and Mike’s roaming hands were painfully obvious to all of us. I still wasn’t quite sure Tara’s status in this whole arrangement. Clearly she was okay with Mike being involved, and she almost seemed like the instigator of it all. Was she fair game? Off limits? As I took a swig of my beer, I felt Maria finally make her move to my lap. Despite the past two hours of friendly illicit behavior, something finally felt wrong about this, and I nearly jumped out of my seat.
But the alcohol had kicked in, and I sat back and relaxed as she climbed onto my lap, continuing her conversations as normal, totally ignoring the fact that she was now slowly gyrating her hips onto mine. The other four men happily watched the two girls on our laps as the conversation continued normally until Mike finally broke the deadlock.
“So, Maria. What are the limits tonight?” He asked, teasing her. Tara giggled on his lap. I could sense Maria tensing a bit; I put my hands on her hips to steady her.
“I don’t know, what do you mean?” She asked shyly.
“You know what I mean. What are our limits? Anal? Where can we finish? How rough can we be? You’ll need a safeword too, sweetie,” he commented casually.
I was eager to see Maria’s response, and she took it in stride. “No anal,” she replied shaking her head. “You can finish wherever you want,” she smiled, “and I like rough sex. Safe word….” She trailed off, pausing for a second. “Kansas. Kansas is my safeword.”
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