It was my birthday during my first year of grad school, and I hadn’t made many friends in my new town yet. I couldn’t afford to live in the city my university was located in, which was where most students and people my age lived. Instead, I lived in a quiet small town a couple dozen miles away, where most residents were at least twice my age.
I’d met some people in class and during university events, but nobody I’d feel comfortable celebrating my birthday with. So, instead, I ventured out to a nearby bar alone. The bars here were completely different than the ones near the university. These ones were somber and often lifeless, devoid of college-aged partiers. Most people there were middle-aged men who’d come alone, and being a woman in her twenties I always felt their eyes on me when I walked in.
Today, though, the first thing I saw was a woman sitting at the bar. She was still far outside my age range, probably at least in her forties, but it was at least a change of pace. She was gorgeous, too, with wavy, dark blonde hair that went just past her chin, and a ruffly top with the neck cut low enough to leave little to the imagination. Her makeup was elegant and understated, the kind that confident people wear every day to the office.
I realized then that she was better-prepared for my birthday than I was, and she didn’t even know it. I looked mousy in comparison, with my black-dyed hair done up in a messy tangle, my only makeup being my typical winged eyeliner, and my outfit being a too-worn sweater over jeans. In my defense, I’d expected to waltz in here, down a drink with a high ABV, and call that a successful birthday. But when I went up to the bar, this woman was already on me.
“I like your nails,” she commented, a glass of wine in hand. Her own nails had clearly been professionally manicured, having been shaped into sharp points in perfect symmetry, and covered in a shiny, even coat of red nail polish.
I looked down at my nails. “Thanks,” I said. I’d done them myself, and the paint was already chipping away. I’d used drug store polish to paint them natural tones of orange, brown, and red for autumn.
“Let me get your drink,” she said. She waved the bartender over and ordered some kind of fruity canned seltzer, which I felt a bit offended by. Who did she think I was? So much for getting wasted, this wouldn’t even be enough to get tipsy unless I chugged it, which wasn’t easy with all the carbonation. But I decided I would accept her gesture for now. Couldn’t hurt.
“Thanks,” I said again. I watched as the bartender poured the drink from a can into a pint glass. Very classy. Not that class was my strong suit, anyway.
“My pleasure,” she said. “I’m just killing time, waiting for my husband. It’s his birthday today, and he’s late. Go figure.”
“Oh,” I said, sipping my drink, “it’s my birthday, too.”
“And you’re here all alone? Someone your age shouldn’t be spending her birthday here of all places. How old are you?”
“Twenty-four,” I responded.
“You barely look twenty,” she said. She took a sip of wine and thought for a moment. She leaned in close. “Look,” she said. “My husband has this… fantasy. He doesn’t talk about it much, probably because he thinks I’d be offended. But he’s let it slip before, and I’ve seen some of his porn searches. And you… Well, you look like you’d be the perfect person to fulfill that fantasy for him. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I think so,” I said, my heart rate rising. Something about it excited me: was I going to agree to do things with a man I haven’t even seen yet? I took a long sip of my drink, which was far too sweet. I doubted I would even finish it.
“And do you think you’d be up for, well, whatever my husband wants to do with you? I mean, I’ll be there, too, so it won’t be just him. And you can say no to anything at any time.”
I just nodded.
“Okay, then you shouldn’t get another drink. I’m going to give you my address, and I want you to go there and wait for us. When my husband gets back from work, I’ll take him there. It shouldn’t be long.”
“Do I need to do anything first?” I wanted to ask if I should already be naked, or if I should be in some sexy position when he arrives, though I didn’t know what exactly that would be.
“No,” she said. “It’s best you just be there when we arrive. I’ll handle the rest. You should go as soon as you finish your drink. I’m Ruthie, by the way.” She held out her hand.
“Nora,” I said, and we shook hands. It was decided.
Their house was half of an old duplex in the rich part of town, and it was appropriately nice inside, though there clearly hadn’t been any recent renovations. She hadn’t really told me where exactly to wait. The front door opened into the kitchen, which didn’t seem like the most suitable place, and beyond that was the living room, which held a large, white L-shaped sofa. There was another door in the kitchen that I presumed led to the bedroom, and a set of stairs from the living room to the attic, but I didn’t dare explore any further.
I sat on the couch and tried to act natural, but all I could do was sit upright and hold my hands in my lap. My sweater was starting to feel hot around my collar. I lifted it away from my chest and peered downward to check to see what bra I was wearing. It was a bland grey bralette, but I was relieved that it wasn’t one that was actively falling apart. I held onto bras far past their expiration date.
After an agonizing wait that may have just been a few minutes, the door opened. Ruthie was the first to appear, followed closely by her husband.
“Surprise!” Ruthie said to her husband. “Andrew, this is Nora. Nora, Andrew.” She leaned over to Andrew and lowered her voice. “It’s her birthday, too, so we’ll have to make it a good one for her.”
Andrew nodded, but his eyes were only on me. He wasn’t unattractive, though he was ordinary-looking, with a bit of stubble, a hairline that had slightly receded and already showed some silver, and a body suitable for an office worker, as he wasn’t overweight but clearly didn’t work out much. He was wearing a buttoned shirt, having come straight from work.
“Are you just going to stare?” Ruthie asked. “In that case, Nora, take off your sweater. Let’s give him more to look at.”
I peeled up my sweater, revealing my pale, flat stomach, followed by my unimpressive breasts. They weren’t tiny, but they sure felt like it compared to Ruthie, whose cleavage seemed to be staring me in the eye. I lifted the garment over my head and placed it gently down beside me. I could feel a cool draft on my bare skin.
Andrew approached me and, to my surprise, kissed me deeply, his rough hands pawing at the smooth, cold skin of my back. He was a very active kisser, first finding the inside of my mouth with his tongue, and then moving to pull on my bottom lip with his teeth. His hands moved down my body, then around to my front. He slipped a hand down my jeans, forcing the front button to pop open.
“You’re soaking, Nora,” he said. “Are you getting impatient?”
Somehow, I hadn’t noticed Ruthie move behind the sofa until she’d begun shimmying my bralette off. I lifted my arms to help it along, and suddenly my tits were exposed. I could feel my nipples hardening, both because I was aroused and because of how cold the room was.
Andrew placed a hand on my left tit, cradling it from below. He rubbed a finger coarsely across my nipple, causing my breath to halt. My nipples had always been especially sensitive, and it was enough to make my mind and body desperate for pleasure. My knees went inward. I squirmed in place.
He leaned forward and placed his mouth on my breast. Ruthie’s hands came from behind and rested on my stomach, holding my in place. I could feel Andrew’s tongue exploring my nipple, flicking it back and forth. Then, he released and stepped back. Ruthie’s hands retreated, but then she pushed gently on my shoulder.
“Lie down,” she commanded. I obliged, positioning myself on my back across the sofa, my knees bent at an acute angle. My legs instinctively spread themselves outwards.
Ruthie moved back to the front of the couch, and ran a hand across my body. She reached my pelvis, then hooked her fingers around my jeans and pulled them down, revealing my plain white underwear. “Look at your pretty little panties,” she said. “Aren’t they precious, Andrew?”
“Her skin is so soft and smooth,” he said. I could very clearly see the outline of his rock-hard penis through his slacks.
But I couldn’t pay much attention to that, as Ruthie soon had my panties down and, before I knew it, her mouth was on my pussy, and waves of pleasure came over me. I involuntarily lifted my butt from the couch and pressed my crotch harder into her mouth. Andrew ran his hand under my thigh and cupped my ass, then he undid his belt and slid his trousers down just enough to free his cock, which bounced out with a healthy string of precum attached to the tip. He grabbed my thin wrist and pulled my hand toward him, and I wrapped my fingers around his shaft and began working it back and forth.
Meanwhile, Ruthie’s tongue was unrelenting, dipping in and out of my slit before trailing up to my pulsing clit. She swirled her tongue around my most sensitive part, and all the while sucked gently, activating me in a way I’d never experienced before.
Andrew didn’t last long. He thrusted his hips furiously back and forth, in and out of my hand, and then he moved my hand away and began jerking himself off, leaning over my body, his hand against the back of the couch to brace himself. His movements grew more stuttery, and then cum spewed in thick ropes all over my stomach and breasts, with some droplets even hitting my face. Ruthie reacted quickly, moving her mouth up my body and away from my pussy. She ran her tongue up my stomach, reaching inside my shallow belly button to lap up her husband’s semen.
“You oughta help with the clean-up,” Andrew said. He placed his cum-covered cock in front of my mouth, and I began licking it clean. He pushed it between my lips, and then down my throat, making me gag.
“She hasn’t even orgasmed,” Ruthie said. “And it’s her birthday.”
“Oh, we’re not done,” Andrew said, pulling his cock from my throat.
Ruthie smiled. She held a hand out to me. “Come here,” she said. I took her hand, and she pulled me up to a standing position. I was completely nude, my panties, bra, jeans, and sweater spread across the couch, which made me feel vulnerable, especially considering Ruthie and Andrew were fully clothed, save for Andrew’s exposed cock. I felt small standing between this older couple. Ruthie placed a guiding hand on my bare back and led me away from the couch. “Let’s take this to the bedroom,” she said. Her hand slid down to my small ass.
In the bedroom, she instructed me to lie down on the bed. She leaned over and extracted a small wooden box from under the bedside table, from which she pulled a condom, which she handed to Andrew, and a blindfold, which she held out to me. “Can we blindfold you?” she asked. Andrew slid the condom onto his cock.
“Yes, please,” I said. “You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Good girl,” she said. She slipped the blindfold over my eyes. She then grabbed my arms and pinned them above my head. I heard some rustling, and then felt something clasp around my wrists, locking them in place.
I felt the tip of Andrew’s rubber-wrapped cock against my entrance, teasing me. He rubbed it back and forth, up and down my slit. I thrust my hips upward, grinding my pussy against the head of his cock. He must have taken this as an invitation, as I then felt him push into me, separating the lips of my pussy and entering my vagina.
Soft, gentle hands, unmistakably Ruthie’s found my clit, and she rubbed me slowly in circles, in rhythm with her husband’s thrusting. It was too slow, I needed more. My pelvis trembled; I squirmed under her touch and the stimulation of Andrew’s cock. Her hands left me, and I felt teased. Andrew continued to thrust in and out of me, pressing me hard against the bed.
I heard a click, and then a buzzing noise, and then I felt the pressure of a vibrator against my clit. That was more like it. Waves of electricity shot through my bottom half, and I could feel the rising wave of pleasure. A mouth found one of my nipples. I could tell if it was Ruthie’s or Andrew’s, but then my other tit was also enveloped by a mouth, and this was was surrounded by stubble that pressed into my soft skin. With both of my nipples being poked at, licked, played with, and my clit facing the endless stimulation of the vibrator, and my pussy being destroyed by Andrew’s cock, my body began thrashing with pleasure, and I was flooded with warmth beneath my skin. A moan, almost a scream, erupted from my mouth, and I came hard.
Andrew and Ruthie kept going, continuing to taunt my body in the shuddering aftermath of my orgasm. But then Andrew was close, and he pulled out of me, peeled off his condom, and stuck his cock in my mouth, where he emptied a load even bigger than the last one. I swallowed in between my overstimulated panting.
Someone pulled my blindfold off, and I could see my nude body sprawled across the bed. Ruthie and Andrew stood in front of me.
“Happy birthday, Nora,” Ruthie said sweetly, before leaning forward to free my arms from their locked position.
submitted by /u/WritingHazel
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