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Writer's pictureDee Dickens

The Aftermath

Ah, our threesome for my birthday is the gift that just keeps giving.


And while I am talking about threesomes, if it is the right thing to do with your partner, it isn't like the movies afterwards, all awkward silences and recriminations. The movies have made extra curricular activities seem like a bad thing, practiced by people who don't really love each other, deviants who are led by their genitals.


In my experience, nothing could be further from the truth.


I have made no secret of the fact that I have fibromyalgia and need to rest ahead of activities and recovery time afterwards. And I had been good. I had paced myself for a week ahead of A's visit, and planned a few days off to recover after. However, things kind of got, out of hand.


Rather than cold shouldered silences, we had longing looks, dirty glances and whispers of "remember when I had your cock in my mouth while A slammed my cunt from behind?" and off we would go again. We have had so much sex that I have tipped over from 'feeling a bit sore' to fully fledged fucking fibro flare.


Maybe it wouldn't have happened if we hadn't discussed the possibility of A coming back round and SH directing me about what I should do to him and when. Like, "Suck his cock, all the way in." Then I wouldn't have had to suck his cock, slowly, deeply, feeling every delicious ache in my jaw from the night before. That wouldn't have got me so worked up and turned on that I had to slide myself down onto his cock and rock, gently, feeling the ache in my hips.


It was all so opposite of the night before, while also being resonant. And every time we looked at each other, we went off again, getting my tits covered in cum, having my clit licked to within the inch of its life (SH and A have such different technique that I am now a little obsessed with the idea of them doing it together). SH sliding his thick, hard cock in while I was still cumming and getting wave after wave after wave of orgasms. And this has been every day since.


But not today. Now I am exhausted and will need to actually rest. And I will do exactly that.


If only I can stop thinking about how it felt to stroke a cock while being fingered by someone else. If only I can stop saying to SH "I fucking loved rimming you both so much that my tongue feels redundant." If only I can stop my hands from stroking my own tits and squeezing my own nipples thinking about A's mouth on them, licking and sucking.


When it is right, the movies are wrong. No cold shoulders here. Just red hot rememberance and spicy, wet reenactment.








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