What am I doing here?
I was nervous, extremely so, not to mention genuinely confused at my own actions. I looked around the bar, anxiously scanning the room to see if I could spot them. Nothing yet, which made me secretly relieved. Maybe they wouldn’t show at all. Maybe they were just as nervous and skeptical as I was and decided against the idea entirely. I wasn’t a particularly superstitious woman, but hey, a sign is a sign. From beginning to end, this whole “adventure” of mine was extremely out of character for me.
I had arrived early at the bar to grab a drink on my own and calm myself down before my dates arrived. I’m not sure how well the drink was working though. My body still felt like it was vibrating.
No, seriously… what am I doing here? I took another sip of white wine, hoping it would bring some semblance of peace. It didn’t. I tapped my phone screen, 7:53 pm, just another few minutes until 8 pm, the designated time. Opening my camera, I checked my face. I mean, I looked good, so there was that. My mid-back auburn blonde braids were pulled in a high ponytail, providing me with easy sophistication. My deep brown eyes sparkled with my trademark copper eyeshadow. They were framed by lashes that looked natural but were glamorous enough to give me that extra oomph I loved for a first date. My brown skin was flawless and rich, my cheeks warm with blush, and my lips full and desirable with the faintest hint of red. I flashed a smile to check my teeth, and as always, was pleased with the result. I loved my smile. It wasn’t perfect, my teeth didn’t quite meet as I refused to wear my retainer, but it was one of my best features. Men and women alike would comment on my smile, that it was “captivating”.
At twenty-six, I truly looked the best I ever had. I could claim to be attractive and above average with no facetiousness. I had grown into my looks and learned how to highlight my natural beauty with fashion and the occasional makeup. The same curves I possessed, my small waist and round ass, that had been ridiculed growing up were now seen as the gold standard for women. I was technically overweight, but I got away with it given how my weight was distributed. My stomach was flat and the rest of me was curvy. I knew my ass looked good in the leather pants I wore, it clung to it like a second skin. My breasts were the perfect handful, a 32D. I was wearing a deep v-neck halter top. I never wore a bra with it, but nobody would guess, seeing as how my breasts sat upright with not a trace of sag. The tops of my breasts were a shade lighter than my cocoa skin. I really needed to go to a nude beach and even it out. Maybe one day, given this new adventurous streak coursing through me.
Oh my God is that them?? My heart started beating like a steel drum in my chest, Jesus Christ, get it together Sab. A couple walked through the door of the bar and made their way toward my booth in the back. The woman and I made eye contact, and she gave a tentative wave and smile. I instinctively smiled back and saw hers widen.
I began sweating profusely.
Oh my Goooodddd, is this a good idea?? What if someone sees us and realizes? But how would they know? I don’t know, we don’t look right, we don’t make sense. Sab, just relax, it’s one drink!
By the time I was done arguing with myself, they had reached my table.
“Hi! Sarabi?”, the woman asked enthusiastically. I stood up and reached across to shake her hand. “Yes! But everyone calls me Sab. And you’re Amy, right?”
“Yes, hi, and this is my husband, Tyler”. I looked towards Tyler and took him in for the first time, “Hi, Sarabi,” I said, flashing him another award-winning smile.
“Tyler,” his voice a rich baritone, “you look fantastic,” he said, gripping my hand and letting it linger a touch longer than necessary. I pulled my hand back and instantly flushed, grateful it would be indiscriminate with my skin tone, “oh, um thank you, you both look nice too!”
“I agree. You’re so beautiful, even better than your pictures somehow,” Amy added. I actually got that a lot and it was a compliment I always appreciated.
“Thank you,” I replied, “you both look great in person as well.”
I wasn’t lying. They looked nice. Amy was a touch taller than me, maybe 5’3 to my 5’2, so still petite. She had fair skin and dirty blonde hair that layered over her shoulders to the nape of her neck. Her face was sprinkled with light brown freckles that lent to her already friendly disposition. Her eyes were dark blue, and her nose pointed. It was a little too large for her face, but it suited her. It gave her character. She wasn’t classically pretty, but I found her to be quite cute. Her lips were pink and full, a faint trace of gloss making them look even plumper. Her body was accentuated by a floor-length floral maxi dress. The dress made it evident that what she lacked behind, she made up for in front. Her breasts curved in the dress, her cleavage deep and inviting. Despite her shy demeanor, Amy had no issue having her assets on display.
Tyler had a head full of brown curls, brown eyes, and a strong jaw. His skin was olive and tan, and I could see the subtle ripple of his muscles beneath his shirt as he took off his jacket to put on the back of his chair, clearly hot from the perpetual summer humidity outside.
Ugh, I love curls, I said to myself. Already I could feel myself yielding to these two individuals.
As we all took our seats, I noticed Tyler eyeing me up and down, taking me in. As he made his way down and came back up, our eyes met. His were full of desire.
Fuck. I’m in trouble.
I knew what he was seeing. I would look in the mirror and turn myself on.
“What are you drinking?” He asked.
I gave him my order, and he flagged down the server to get us a round of drinks. I appreciated his steady sureness amid Amy and I’s nervous energy.
“Well, firstly, we’re so glad you matched with us!” Amy quipped, her voice high and eager. “It hasn’t been as easy as we thought it would be. Not that we thought it would be easy or that you’re easy or that we hope you’re easy…” I laughed as she trailed off. She was cute.
“Of course not. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you and getting to know you is all,” added Tyler. I took stock of how he supported his wife by affirming her, it told me something important about their relationship. “So, tell us a little about yourself,” Tyler continued, “we loved your profile.”
So, I told them a little about me: about what I liked to do on the weekends, what I did for a living, my music tastes, etc., etc. By the time we were on our second round of drinks they had done the same, and it was starting to feel increasingly comfortable. I was genuinely enjoying their company. The two of them were well-rounded and great conversationalists. It was beginning to feel like meeting friends out on the town before it took a turn.
“So Sab…”, Amy began a little self-consciously, “what made you interested in meeting a couple?”
I inwardly flinched and inconspicuously looked around to see if anyone had heard. Nothing. As usual, people were more focused on their own lives than my own. I just hadn’t expected the question.
“Uh, I’m not sure, really,” I said, blushing again, “I suppose it’s always been a fantasy of mine… group… activities, you know?”
Fantasy was probably an understatement. From the time I began masturbating, I had always gravitated towards threesomes and group sex, women especially. The older I got, the more I indulged these fantasies through erotic fiction versus visual pornography. There’s really something to be said about reading the details on how multiple people take pleasure in each other’s bodies at the same time… being able to have more than one body part stimulated, kissing a man while being penetrated, and there still being a woman suckling on your breast…
I was getting hot just thinking about it.
However, I had never had the courage to act upon the fantasy. If I’m being completely honest, even though I loved watching and reading about women having sex, I had never even kissed a girl. Neither opportunity had ever presented itself, and I didn’t go seeking. I considered myself bisexual but had only ever been with men. I suspect my religious upbringing had something to do with that. Watching and reading about lesbians and orgies was one thing but participating myself felt taboo.
Until now.
A few unsuccessful stints of dating and a general desire to inject some excitement and leave this life with no regrets brought me to this moment with Amy and Tyler.
“It’s been one of ours as well,” Amy replied, her voice not completely free from nerves, but more level and even after a few hours together. We were in a connected booth, and she was now sitting closer to me than Tyler. She moved a little closer, and as she did her leg brushed against mine.
I was taken aback by the jolt of electricity that coursed through me. She looked at me and bit the corner of her lip, a little buzzed and carefree, her cleavage rising and falling. Her breasts looked so full in just the dress alone, I could only imagine with they looked like when they were free. I imagined taking one of her breasts out and massaging it, getting the feel of the softness of another breast besides my own… gently gripping her nipples between my fingers while I prepared to take one into my mouth…
Holy shit. I want her, badly. In a way that I had never wanted a woman before, not in real life anyway.
“We really have been searching for a while for someone we would be compatible with. We’re looking for a woman who is open-minded, experimental, genuine, and caring… and of course one we’re both attracted to,” she paused slightly before lightly running her fingers over the back of my hand. Her blue eyes met with mine, and she intentionally looked toward my own plunging neckline. Her desire to nestle in my chest was palpable.
I shivered.
“We want to enhance our sexual life, and we’d love to have another woman be included, long-term,” she added.
Tyler, who had been content taking somewhat of a backseat, was intensely watching the two of us draw closer and closer with an enigmatic look. His brown eyes slightly hooded and the top two buttons on his shirt undone.
He leaned forward now, ensuring that the two of us were making direct eye contact. I resisted the urge to look away, suddenly shy in his gaze.
“We’re not looking to use and abuse anyone,” he chimed in, “we want to bring someone into the fold and treat them well while doing so. Not in a way that feels like prostitution, but for the sake of pleasure. We love indulging each other’s fantasies and would love to indulge yours. We want to take care of you however we can, carnally especially.” He paused, looking towards Amy who enthusiastically nodded and smiled at him.
“How would you like that, Sarabi?”
