Adventures with Holly, Part 2

This is the second of a series of erotic stories I am writing. Here's the link to the first. If you haven't read it already, then you should do so before getting into Part 2. I believe in freedom of creative expression, be it sexual or otherwise. Someone expressed their distaste for the subject matter of this writing, and that is okay with me. My stories are meant to be entertaining for those who enjoy this type of entertainment. 

I’ve heard it said that every woman needs an obsession — someone to crave. Holly was mine. After our first night together (I did not sleep over), I wasn’t sure how things would be between us. I wasn’t even sure what it all meant. All I knew was the sex we had together was unlike anything I had ever experienced. 

The next morning, I arrived as I usually did, five minutes late. Holly’s office was two doors down from mine and across the hall. I glanced in as I passed, but she was on the phone with her back to the door. Was she really on the phone or was she avoiding seeing me? I reminded myself not to torment myself with my insecurities and walked into my office with the intention to settle into the day ahead.

Intermittently, I wondered if Holly would poke her head into my office or if we’d be grabbing lunch together as usual. I reminded myself of all my personal rules.  Never fuck your co-workers! Don’t do anything you have to hide from people. Don’t get emotionally involved. And the unwritten rule I had never even considered — heterosexual relationships are your only option.

Lunch came and went without me seeing Holly. I was afraid to leave my office. 5:30 came and I decided I needed to get home. I wanted to see her and I wanted her to be in love with me, but at the same time, I didn’t. I wanted to save myself from heartbreak. I wanted to not want what she now had me constantly craving.

As I walked across the parking lot, I heard her voice call to me. “Hey! Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I said lamely.

She smiled her glorious smile, her lips softly stretched over her white, straight teeth. That smile always pulled me in. 

“Do you feel like grabbing dinner with me at Borneo’s?” Borneo was the name of a restaurant that served Indonesian food. She gave it a possessive as though it were a person’s name. My inner grammarian cringed, but not enough to dismiss her invitation. She was too gorgeous to assign faults to, as I would with any other lover.

We rode in separate cars this time. It left me feeling a little confused, but I played it cool, telling myself I shouldn’t be wanting her the way I did, and reviewing all my personal rules about relationships. 

Who was I kidding? I was out of my depth and sinking like a ship with a hole in the hull.

We arrived at the restaurant and were shown seats in front of a window that overlooked the sidewalk. Holly and I chatted as we always had about nearly everything. The only thing we didn’t talk about was what happened the night before. She was messing with my head but I wasn’t sure if it was intentional. 

After a while, we noticed a man standing on the sidewalk in front of the window. Holly recognized him and waved at him to join us. As he entered the restaurant and approached our table, I could see he was tall. His crotch met my eye. The fullness of it danced up and down as he put one leg in front of the other. My favourite dance. 

I looked up to greet him as Holly introduced us. His name was Steve. His eyes were large and dark, his smile broad and manly, if that’s a thing. Can a man smile like a man? Let’s just say he was virile — a sperm donor of the highest order with a pouch that drew in women like kittens to a bowl of cream. Suddenly, I was hungry for more than Satay and Holly.

Steve joined us for dinner and I learned that he was an engineer. He was chattier than any engineer I had ever met and quite engaging. The three of us spent time talking about local politics, work, travel and music. Steve told us he had an extensive vinyl collection and invited us to stop by his place to check it out. 

We all went to Steve’s in separate vehicles and as I drove alone, my mind began to wonder how things would unfold. Did he really just want to show us his records? If that were the case, I could have lived without seeing them, but I wanted to keep Holly for myself, so I opted to check it out with her. 

The thought of a threesome with Holly and Steve crossed my mind and was appealing. As long as I was exploring my sexual desires, I figured I may as well keep trying new things. Was that what was going to happen? 

I wondered if my experience with Holly perverted me in some way. I was beginning to not recognize myself. How did I become such a dirty girl? Do other women do this kind of thing and just not talk about it? I satisfied myself to think they do and refrained from passing judgement upon myself. I’m not hurting anybody and who I fuck is nobody’s business, anyway.

Unlike Holly and I, Steve owned a house in a very suburban neighbourhood. It was decorated sparsely in true guy-style. Nothing matched. Nothing was placed in a way that made sense to anyone but him. The TV was huge and his couch looked bare and bland against starkly painted walls. As handsome as he was, there was clearly no woman of significance in Steve’s life. 

Steve got us drinks in questionably clean glasses. I sipped my gin and tonic politely, reminding myself that alcohol pretty much kills everything. I like the taste of gin, so that helped.

Steve opened a large cabinet to reveal his collection of records. He had everything alphabetized as only an engineer would. I looked at the A’s. 

“No ABBA?” I asked.

“Not in my cabinet! I start with the Allman Brothers and end with Warren Zevon. You won’t see ABBA or The Bay City Rollers, but I’ve got Blue Oyster Cult and Chicago, before they got sappy.” 

I’d never heard of any of those bands, but didn’t let on. 

“How did you get such a huge record collection?”

“Most of them were my father’s. He died a few years ago and I wanted a keepsake. He taught me everything about these bands that were big when he was young. I started to appreciate the music more in my late teens and early 20’s. It’s how I stay connected with my father.”

I felt my maternal instincts kick in. Shit.

Steve pulled out the Tupelo Honey album by Van Morrison. 

“That’s one of my favourites. That, and the Moondance album,” I told him. I did recognize some of the artists in his collection.

He played the record, not knowing that Van Morrison’s music always makes me want to take my clothes off. That, and gin.

We continued to drink and talk about our favourite musicians for a bit. Then, Holly began to dance with me, pulling me close to her. Maybe it’s just alcohol that makes Holly horny. She kissed me right in front of Steve. At first it was just a flirtatious peck, but once Steve took notice, she began to kiss me more passionately. Her lips tasted slightly of cherry.

As I leaned into Holly, I felt her hands caress my body. Steve approvingly looked on. He watched us fondle each other for a bit, enjoying the show. I think for Holly it was a show. For me, it was just wanting to drink in as much of Holly as I could.

“I feel like having some cock tonight. Steve, come and join us.” Holly’s request was met with enthusiasm as Steve unzipped his pants and joined in. 

Oh, my God. It’s happening.

Steve took off his shirt and I helped him out of his pants, stopping to enjoy the bulge I admired earlier that evening. 

Steve’s body was fit but not gym fit. His muscles were less defined. He looked like he grew up doing hard work. His shoulders and chest were broad and firm. The curve of his pectoral muscles drew me in. I kissed his chest and looked upward to reach his mouth. There was that manly energy I was so familiar with. 

He pressed his lips firmly against mine. Our tongues met.

I felt Holly removing my panties from under my skirt. She reached into the gap between my legs with her face and tasted me while Steve kissed me and removed my blouse. 

I wore prettier underwear that day. I guess what your mother tells you about underwear is important even if you don’t have a car accident. You never know when you might have a threesome.

Feeling Holly do her magic underneath me while Steve worked my top half, made me want to be everywhere at once. Holly was a master of the art of cunnilingus. I say art, because it really is. I’ve been around enough to know that much.

I moved myself down so I could take Steve into my mouth. His cock was as perfect as the rest of him. He had the right girth and his erection bowed to create a natural G-spot finder. This was going to be amazing. 

My heart was pounding with excitement and my pussy was primed and making me feel weak in the knees. 

“Let Steve and I look after you for a while. Just relax.” Oh my God. Holly and Steve tag teaming like a couple of pros.

There wasn’t an inch of my body they didn’t do something wonderful to. I came hard with Holly’s face between my legs. Then Steve gently slid his cock inside me and thrusted while Holly hovered over my face. I tasted her deliciousness while she and Steve kissed and did, I don’t know what else together. It didn’t matter. 

I was caught in a swirl of legs and hair and moistness. Steve’s cock felt so good inside me and with Holly’s pussy against my face I felt overloaded with bliss. The evening continued with generous amounts of turn taking in one position or another.

I got to see Holly’s face as Steve brought her to orgasm. She glowed as she moaned and cried out. It was so hot to watch. The female orgasm is really a beautiful thing to witness. Eventually, we all clumped into tangle of arms, legs, lips and sweat.

What a night. Nobody knows my dirty secret.

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