Best Kind of Night [MFM]

Okay so I have to be honest, I kind of had a feeling about where this would go before we even sat down.

Marcus had been texting me for two weeks and we finally got our act together and did dinner at an Italian place downtown. He was 26, a couple years older than me, and he looked exactly like his pictures which you know isn’t always the case. Really tall, six two maybe, dark brown skin, close cut fade, just a genuinely good looking guy. His jawline was unfair. Navy blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He had this gentle laugh that really got me.

I wore the top on purpose. I should tell you now - I’m about five four, olive skin, mousey brown hair, big tits (34DD), the kind that sit high and spill out of whatever little top I squeeze into. I wouldn’t say I have a gym body, more naturally curvy. My ass is bigger than most, and perky. Like a bubble. Anyways, the top. I wore this flowy one that drapes low and leaves lots of cleavage. It’s a little looser than what I usually wear, and I loved how my tits fall out of it.

When Marcus asked if I wanted to come back to his place I was nodding before he even finished the sentence.

His apartment was nice, which I remember thinking was unusual. Most of the guys I went out with still had college apartments and beds on the floor. His was different. Nice couch, record player playing music before we got in, art on the walls. And then there was Jordan.

Already on the couch when we walked in, laptop open, leg thrown over the armrest like he owned the building. He was Marcus’ age, lean, kind of scruffy in a way that worked for him. His sandy brown hair was pushed back, with eyes whose color I couldn’t quite make out under the apartment’s low light. He seemed confident. I remember being surprised that he was as tall as Marcus. He looked up at me when we walked in and gave me this smile and I immediately knew he was going to be a problem.

He checked me out when Marcus stepped into the kitchen. Not exactly subtle.

“This is Jordan,” Marcus said. “He doesn’t bite.”

Jordan shut his laptop and smirked at me. “Usually.”

I sat down and made myself comfortable.

Two drinks in and the conversation got good. I was warm and loose and laughing at everything. At some point I looked down and realized my top had shifted significantly. One side pulled way over, my brown nipple pressing against the sheer fabric basically out in the open. I finished what I was saying, watched Jordan’s eyes drop down and snap back up, then reached down and fixed it casual as anything.

Marcus had noticed it too. He smirked and finished his drink.

Jordan leaned back and goes “you know what I think about sometimes? That thing Kayla said.”

Marcus groaned. “We’re not doing this.”

“Kayla?” I asked.

“Nobody,” said Marcus.

“She dated Marcus,” Jordan said. “And then like four months she somehow ended up sleeping with me, which was its own whole thing, and the first thing she said afterward was-”

“Jordan.”

“-she goes, and I’m quoting, ‘okay, you’re actually bigger.’” He and Marcus choked back their laughter. “Those were her exact words. Unprompted.”

“She said that to you directly,” I said to Jordan.

“To my face. I didn’t even ask.”

“Oh, please, you definitely asked.”

“She brought it up!”

“She was a weird girl, truly.”

“She was an honest girl.” Jordan picked up his drink. “I’m just saying it’s a documented data point. From a primary source.” He said it definitively, like he had just discovered gravity.

“One person.” Marcus said. 

The two of them were clearly enjoying themselves, and I wanted in on the fun.

“So what you’re saying,” I said, “is that it’s still an open debate.”

“I’m saying the data favors me,” Jordan said smugly.

“One data point,” Marcus said.

I set my glass down. “Well, I’m pretty good at research.”

They both looked at me.

“If someone wanted a second opinion,” I said, keeping my face totally straight.

Jordan shifted toward me first and I reached over and pressed my palm against the front of his sweatpants. It was immediately apparent he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I wrapped my fingers around him through the fabric and squeezed slowly, getting a real sense of things. I had a playfully inquisitive look on my face. It was long. Definitely long. And Jordan went completely quiet for probably the first time all night.

I turned to Marcus. He had that calm expression on but his eyes were low. He was more into this than he had let on. I smiled at him while I stroked his roommate.

I let go of Jordan and moved toward the other side of the couch, toward Marcus. I put my hand over his slacks. It was huge. Thicker than Jordan, and heavier. I could feel it swelling in my hand. I couldn’t get my fingers all the way around him. I liked touching Marcus. I started breathing heavier, and was biting my lip. Marcus noticed and a smile grew on his face.

Then I went back to Jordan just to compare properly. One then the other, back and forth, genuinely deliberating. Jordan made a low sound in his throat.

I sat back.

"Marcus," I said. "Honestly not that close."

Jordan opened his mouth.

"You're longer though," I said. "If that helps."

He actually thought about it. "It does a little, yeah."

Marcus laughed quiet and low and reached over and tucked my hair back off my face, which was somehow the most loaded thing either of them had done yet.

"So," he said.

"So," I said back.

Jordan moved first, obviously.

He turned toward me and ran his hand along my bare thigh, slow, fingers curling at my inner knee and drifting up. Not rushing anywhere. My mouth was open at this point.

His palm pressed flat against my inner thigh and I let my knees fall open a little without really deciding to. He watched my face the whole time, which was almost worse than the actual touching.

Marcus was on my other side, lips on my neck, hand sliding up under my top and pressing flat against my stomach. Just holding me there against the couch, feeling me breathe.

His hand reached further up my thigh and I let my knees fall all the way open and watched his face change. The thong was basically a suggestion, just this tiny strip of sheer fabric that was completely soaked through and plastered against me, every curve visible through it, clit visibly pushed against the wet material, nothing left to the imagination at all.

He stared for a full second.

"Jesus Christ," he said quietly.

Marcus had his mouth on my neck, lips and teeth dragging slowly against my skin, leaving it wet, tongue tracing up toward my jaw. His big hand was still flat on my stomach feeling me breathe faster.

Jordan pressed two fingers flat against the soaked fabric and just held them there, feeling the heat coming off me, feeling how drenched the material was. Then he started rubbing slow circles and the wet fabric dragged against my clit and I grabbed the couch cushion.

"You've been like this the whole time haven't you," he said, watching my face.

He pressed harder and rubbed slower and I could feel every ridge of his fingers through the thin soaked material right against my clit and my hips were moving on their own at that point, chasing his hand.

"Look at you," he said.

Marcus bit down on my neck, not hard but enough, and I felt it shoot straight down through my chest and stomach. His mouth was hot and wet against my skin, dragging down toward my collarbone, saliva cooling on my neck in the open air.

My top slipped all the way and Marcus didn't hesitate, pulled my nipple into his mouth and bit down gently and then not so gently and I made a sound I'd be embarrassed about if I had any remaining capacity for embarrassment. His mouth was hot and wet and he dragged his tongue slowly across before biting again and my back arched off the couch.

Jordan pulled the thong slowly to the side with one finger. The cold air in the apartment hit my clit and I actually shivered.

He ran one finger slowly through how wet I was and held it up and looked at it and then showed it to Marcus.

"She’s dripping," he said.

Then he pressed two fingers directly against my clit with nothing between us and I stopped being able to form thoughts entirely.

"Oh you're in so much trouble," he said.

Marcus reached the clasp of my bra and got it open in one motion and his mouth was back on my chest immediately, tongue and teeth, switching between both sides, saliva cooling on my skin in the air between his mouth moving from one to the other. I had one hand on the nape of his neck and one hand gripping Jordan's wrist, not stopping him, just holding on.

Jordan slid two fingers inside me and curled them and I threw my head back and moaned loudly.

"Bedroom," Marcus said against my chest.

We didn’t make it there right away.

I pushed Marcus back against the couch and swung my leg over him, facing him, normal cowgirl, wanting to actually look at him. This was still our date after all. Jordan took the hint and settled back into the armchair across the room, drink in hand, content to watch for now. 

I reached down and wrapped my hand around Marcus and just held him there for a second. Even after everything I'd already felt I wasn't fully prepared. Thick and heavy in my hand, genuinely intimidating up close. I raised up on my knees, lined him up, and started to sink down slowly.

"Oh my god," I breathed.

I had to stop twice on the way down just to breathe through it. Marcus had his hands on my waist, not pushing, just holding, jaw tight, letting me take my time. When I finally got all the way down I just sat there for a second with my forehead dropped against his.

"You okay," he said quietly.

"Very," I said.

He smiled and I kissed him, slow and deep, and started to move.

It started gentle, just rolling my hips, getting used to him, finding the angle. His hands slid from my waist up my back and he kissed me back in that unhurried way he had, like we weren't in the middle of anything, like we had all the time in the world. My full chest was pressed against him and he got a hand between us and cupped me, thumb dragging across my nipple, and I broke the kiss and just breathed against his mouth.

Then I started actually bouncing and his head went back.

I got a rhythm going, rising up and coming back down, feeling every inch of him every single time, thighs working, hands on his chest. He filled me up so completely that every stroke felt like the first one. My thighs were already shaking.

"Jesus," Jordan said from across the room.

Marcus grabbed my ass with both hands, squeezing hard, helping me move, and then brought one hand back and slapped it and the sound cracked through the room and I gasped and clenched around him and he groaned.

"Do that again," I said.

He did.

We kept going like that for a while, me bouncing, him meeting me, an occasional slap that made me clench every time, kissing in between, his mouth on my neck and chest. Jordan watched the whole thing with his drink resting on his knee and that quiet attentive expression like he was studying for an exam.

Eventually I slowed down and looked over at Jordan.

"Your turn," I said.

I swung around into reverse, facing out toward Jordan who was already standing up and walking over. From this angle Marcus felt completely different, somehow even deeper, and I had to grab the couch and just breathe for a second.

Marcus put both hands on my hips and started moving underneath me, slow rolls, and I started grinding back against him and Jordan stepped up in front of me and I didn't wait, just reached up and pulled him toward my mouth.

He was already hard and flushed and when I took him in I felt him hit the back of my throat almost immediately and my eyes watered. Jordan got his hand in my hair, not gentle exactly but not rough either, just holding, and I relaxed my throat and let him.

I choked a little the first time and pulled back, spit running down my chin, catching on my chest, and looked up at him with watering eyes and took him straight back in.

"God," he said, barely audible.

Marcus was rolling his hips underneath me and Jordan had my hair and between the two of them I was just completely held in place, not really in control of anything, which was exactly what I wanted. Marcus reached around and got both hands on my big tits, squeezing, and Jordan's grip tightened in my hair.

I came hard with Jordan halfway down my throat, clenching around Marcus so intensely that he groaned and grabbed my hips and held me down against him, and I moaned around Jordan which just made him thrust shallower and faster, hand tight in my hair, and my chin was completely wet with spit at this point, dripping onto my tits and thighs.

Marcus slapped my ass again while I was still clenching through it and I whimpered around Jordan.

Jordan came not long after, hand pulling my hair back so my throat opened up, and I felt it hit the back of my throat in waves and I swallowed as fast as I could but there was too much, it ran down the corners of my mouth and dripped off my chin and down onto my tits and stomach and he looked down at me after smiled.

I sat up off Marcus and sat back against the couch cushions, legs spread open and looked up at him. I slid two fingers inside myself and started fucking myself. I was stretched wide open from Marcus’ thick cock. I watched Marcus watch me. Jordan’s cum was still on my chin and chest, I was completely flushed and my hair was a mess. I couldn’t care less.

Marcus wrapped his hand around himself and started stroking, eyes moving all over me.

I added a third finger and dropped my head back against the cushion and worked my hand faster, hips rolling up to meet it, and I could hear how wet I was in the quiet room.

"Look at me," I said.

He did.

I pressed my thumb against my clit and kept fucking myself with my fingers and held eye contact with him and watched his face twist up.

He came hard and there was a lot of it, across my stomach and tits, hitting my collarbone, some catching my neck, overlapping with what Jordan had already left there. He kept stroking through all of it, mouth open, completely gone, until he was empty and shaking a little and had to put one hand on the back of the couch to steady himself.

I flopped back fully against the cushions, both layers of cum warm on my skin, and looked down at myself and then squeezed both hands around my tits and pushed them together and just started laughing.

"Okay," I said, looking up at the ceiling. "Someone needs to get me a towel right now."

We cleaned up and somehow ended up back in Jordan's room, which was bigger, with more drinks and the lamp on low. I was in the middle, Jordan on my left, Marcus on my right, wearing Jordan’s sweatpants and Marcus’ tee shirt.

We just talked for a while, just the three of us laying there exchanging sex stories and laughing in the dark.

At some point the talking slowed and then stopped. Jordan went first, drink set on the nightstand, out within minutes. Marcus not long after, warm and heavy on my right side.

I laid there a little longer looking up at the ceiling, still glowing, drink resting on my stomach, before drifting off to sleep.