I love fiction that focuses on fantasy-fulfilment: there’s a beauty in knowing that even fantasies we wouldn’t be able to live out in real life (or wouldn’t want to live out, in some cases) can still be enjoyed and revelled in as stories. Stories we tell ourselves to get hard or wet, and stories we share with others to give them that kick of lust too. This week’s guest blog is a fabulous piece of fiction by Gemini (whose work you can also find here on Literotica!), in which he indulges a long-standing curiosity. To put on a skirt, get playful, and seduce his best friend…
Donning a skirt to seduce my best friend
It was my wife’s idea, though I don’t think she realised. She suggested I have a boys’ night out with one of my best friends I’d not seen for over a year. He had previously told me in passing about his bisexual leaning but this was years ago and I’d had a burning unspoken curiosity ever since.
We owed each other a catch-up anyway, we spoke on the phone occasionally but we hadn’t actually been out for a long long time. We arranged a rental flat in a mutually convenient town, booked tickets to a comedy gig. I packed for the night away; easy enough, though feeling mischievous and inspired I took one of my wife’s skirts in my overnight bag.
We met early in the afternoon outside the apartment, dropped off our bags and headed into town. It was a fun afternoon, catching up over beers in a few bars, laughing, reminiscing, giggling like kids, though my choice of words was at times deliberately edgy, suggestive; references to tight squeezes and narrow passages. He seemed to reciprocate the semi-tease, never totally blatant, but with just enough of a knowing smile to keep me thinking he was playing along and encouraging in a mildly flirtatious way.
The comedy was great fun, but over too soon. We came back to the flat, stumbled a little through the door, bumping into each other a little, kicked off our shoes and put the TV on. I fetched a drink for us both and joined him on the sofa. There was some amusing late night talk show programme on which entertained us whilst chatting. I was still convinced that I read some undercurrent in his earlier responses; nothing overt, just enough to keep me wondering.
I was still curious. I poured another wine, drained it and poured another.
I’m not sure who was more surprised when I suggested, without looking directly at him: “can I suck your cock?”
“Hmm…”
He was taken slightly aback, though there was a definite hint of intrigue in his voice. Maybe I’d misread the previous situation. Maybe he was wondering if I was serious.
I laughed, slightly embarrassed, which broke the immediate tension. Then I suggested we watch something together on my phone and he grinned suggestively.
I took out my phone, found a porn site and handed him the device with a video playing. This seemed to reassure him, probably both of us. He began to relax as he watched the video. I leaned in to watch with him, still a little uncertain until he sat back, simultaneously getting more comfortable on the sofa and allowing me to see movement through his jeans.
I put my hand on his crotch, feeling his dick, squeezing slightly as it hardened beneath my touch. I found it unbearably exciting having someone else’s cock so close to my hand, forbidden almost, but now imminently attainable. My head was buzzing intensely, my pulse racing. Was I really going to do this? Was it the right thing to do? I took another mouthful of wine and tried, in vain, to control my desire.
Still holding my phone in one hand, he held my hand over his cock with his other and began slowly thrusting against me. I caught his occasional glances towards me but mainly he was focused on the screen, occasionally wetting his lips with his tongue. It was probably as unusual a scenario for him as it was for me. Still allowing him to push against me, I unpopped the buttons and opened his jeans enough to pull his hard cock out above his briefs (unexpected, I assumed everyone wore boxers); I wrapped my fingers lightly around it, exploring his shaft. I was fascinated, watching his thrusting movement through the slight fist I made, observing the head of his cock emerge then retreat into my hand. I squeezed again then released. He continued to thrust as I began rhythmically stroking his cock, his hand now resting on mine, his breathing deeper.
I leaned in closer to his cock and he strained, pushing his erection towards my mouth, now mere millimetres from my parting lips. I blew ever so gently on it, almost kissing it, wondering what my next move would be. My heart raced. I paused, hesitant. I swallowed nervously.
“Give me a minute,” I said. He looked a little disappointed that I’d stopped playing and made some comment about having to finish the job himself.
I stepped out of the room into the corridor, dropped my jeans and pulled on my wife’s skirt I’d brought with me, using it to get myself more into the role, and walked confidently back in to the room. He was still there on the sofa, phone in one hand and cock in the other.
He laughed a playful “oh, hello!” when he saw me approach. I laughed back, twirled, slapping my arse lightheartedly through the skirt as I did so, then took a cushion from the sofa and knelt on it on the floor in front of him, now watching him play with himself. I pulled at his jeans, took them down to his ankles then did the same with his briefs, fully freeing his cock and balls. Another gulp of wine. I took his cock in my hand again, stroking it, watching it, watching myself play with him.
Then I closed my eyes and moved forwards, opening my mouth to take it in, first the head between my lips as I wanked him off, then I slowly took more in my mouth, exploring it with my tongue, spilling saliva over his shaft and rubbing wetly with my hand. I bobbed my head up and down, guiding with my hand, feeling him pulse against my tongue, deeper and deeper; I gagged, coughed and pulled away, strings of saliva between my mouth and his cock. My friend asked – well, demanded – that I try again which was fine by me, I was quite enjoying the role. I played with his balls, sucked and licked his shaft, eyes closed tasting his sweat and the juice seeping from his cock. He was clearly enjoying the moment. Lightly holding my head, he tousled my hair, his breath quickened as he gasped out his verbal affirmations, “oh god, don’t stop, let me fuck your mouth.”
Still kneeling, I shifted my weight on my heels, parting my arse cheeks a little which made me feel extra slutty, my own cock now hardening fully under my skirt.
I looked up at my friend, spat once more into my hand and began rubbing his cock again, rubbing my saliva over the tip, down the length, all the while maintaining eye contact with him, emboldened.
“Do you want to tease my arsehole?” I suggested; I made a ring round the top of his dick with my fingers, squeezing, then slid tightly, slowly, wetly, down his shaft, watching for his response: there was no hesitation. My breathing hitched; this was it. I squeezed a very generous palmful of lube into my hand, applied it liberally to his shaft, squeezed the top of his cock one more time till it was positively glistening with my spit and the gel.
I turned round, laying my face sideways on the carpet, my submissive skirted arse presented aloft as a poorly wrapped gift. My friend lifted the skirt, pulled my boxers down – I lifted my legs briefly from the floor to help him get them off completely so I could spread my knees. I guessed my phone had been discarded on the sofa, I could still hear the porn playing but his hands were clearly now being used on me, one reached round to hold my straining cock, the other alternately pulling my left then right cheeks aside to expose my ring.
He let go of my cock, parting both my cheeks with his fingers and thumb of one hand whilst presumably using the other to guide his rock hard cock against my hole, gently pushing in, sliding with the lube, then releasing. I really enjoyed this sensation, the slight stretch then release; I was already hard but somehow this made me even harder.
I forced myself not to touch either cock, stretching my arms out on the floor before me, wanting just to be used now.
The contrast of my friend’s hands sensually stroking my arse and lower back whilst his cock crudely toyed my hole was utterly mesmerising . After another moment I couldn’t wait, I was so horny and just wanted him inside me.
I defied his tease and pushed back, almost a little too quickly as he was pushing towards me, my ring stretched painfully to allow him in but once inside the sensation was quite exquisite. We pushed and pulled against each other, he pulled out almost completely then thrust back in, again and again, harder and harder.
Soon he pushed me flat to the floor, my cock now against the cushion that I’d been kneeling on earlier.
I could hear him panting and moaning behind me, felt his hot breath on my neck and ear, each thrust of his cock in my arse causing my own to rub between my stomach and the cushion. I was almost overwhelmed with the double pleasure sensation.
He was close now, pushing deeper with each thrust, shoving the air out of my lungs against the floor. Despite my mental efforts I couldn’t stop myself climaxing from the combination of the pain and the rubbing: I came with a loud moan, fingers trying to grip the carpet while my friend continued thrusting. I felt my cum on my skin, the warm wetness as he pushed and pushed then, pulling my hips back towards his, he came too – deep and hard into me.