The Mammoth Book of Threesomes and Moresomes

More Than a Mouthful

Rachel Kramer Bussel

Sometimes all I want is a good fuck — or a good suck, I’m not picky. I know that as a modern woman, I’m supposed to ask for the whole package — a kind, sensitive, man who does his share of the housework and is gentle and patient, who also knows what to do with his dick — but there are moments when his package alone will do, and the bigger, the better. I just want it somewhere inside me, anywhere to quench that seemingly insatiable, overwhelming urge, the kind that can only be satisfied by a dick that’s aching just as powerfully for me. Yes, there are times when I want to make love, to luxuriate in the sensation of skin on skin, of hard and soft, of his hands and lips grabbing me, taking me. Other times I just want it down and dirty, I want to be a whore of the highest order. Usually I get exactly what I want, but sometimes things don’t go quite according to plan. What happened last week was an example of the latter.

I had just tried to wake long-term boyfriend, Hunter, up with a blow job. That’s one of my favourite times to suck his cock, when he’s sleeping like a baby, blissfully unaware of my intentions, and I get to take him from resting to aroused. I never feel more powerful, more full of womanly wiles, than I do when he hardens between my lips. Sometimes I just stare at him sleeping, his big body scrambling for air, loud snores wracking his frame, like he’s afraid to settle into the true peace sleep can offer. I can stroke his shoulder or even plant a soft kiss on his back without him noticing. His dick and I do our own private dance as he stays in dream world until eventually the excitement awakens him. But sometimes, my oral approaches are less than welcome.

“That feels great, baby, but it’s OK,” he mumbled, pushing me off and turning over, the quilt clutched more tightly around him, shielding him from me. “I’ve got to get to work.” He rolled away from me, shuddering as if something utterly distasteful had just occurred, or at least, that’s how it felt to me. He rose and, without looking at me, pulled on boxers and a T-shirt and made his way across the room.

He didn’t seem to notice the clear disappointment on my face, the way I stared up at him, not pouting, just hurt, rejected. And I didn’t say a word. I just stumbled into the bathroom, sat on the toilet, and let silent tears crawl down my face while I listened to him boot up his computer.

I vowed that that would be the last time I’d try to wake him in such a way. If he wanted his cock sucked, he knew where to find me; by then I wasn’t even sure his was the cock I wanted to fill me up. I stormed out of the house filled with pent-up sexual frustration and anger that I had let myself fall for someone so uninterested in sex he could reject me like that. I was better than that, deserved more from the person I’d pledged my heart and body to, damn it. My anger was all well and good, but it didn’t lessen my desire to have my mouth stuffed, filled, used. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that not getting to be the good little cocksucker I can be was a deal-breaker, and if I couldn’t get it from him, I was going to find someone to give me what I craved. I’ve always required some kind of oral stimulation, always found it exciting beyond belief to let a man trace his fingers over my tongue, to lick my way along a salty forearm, to tease an inner thigh with my teeth, to suck a finger (or two) when I’m getting fucked.

After that first morning of stomping down the street in my tallest heels with a pout on my face, slamming things around at my office — I run my own time-management consulting firm — I didn’t stress about it any more. I felt a sense of calm wash over me. It wasn’t an obsession so much as something I knew would happen when the time was right. After all, women like me who live for going down don’t often go neglected for long.

Plus, the more I was made to wait, the more I’d appreciate it when I finally got that fat, juicy cock in my mouth — and, boy, was I right. My chance didn’t come until four months later, an agonizing time during which I did my best to keep things cordial but never over-the-top with Hunter. We fucked, but in an understated way; we didn’t paw and claw each other when we walked in the door. We were content to wait, where we hadn’t been before. If he missed our more passionate days or thought I was in any way aloof, he didn’t say anything, which only solidified my intention to sate my hunger elsewhere.

And elsewhere turned out to be a Caribbean cruise — a work thing, as it turned out. I was asked to speak to a group of business executives about time management. The pay wasn’t great, but since it included a free trip, and I was overdue for a vacation, albeit a working one, I figured I couldn’t say no. I did ask if Hunter could get comped along with me, but his boss said no, and part of me was relieved. I needed some time apart from him, to see who I could be without him clinging to me, a sensation that had been plaguing me since before the blow-job incident. I certainly wasn’t about to pay for him myself, and he seemed more than happy to let me go by myself — much happier than I’d have been about unleashing him on a group of strangers for a week, all trapped on a confined vehicle, save for the times we’d be frolicking on sunny beaches in skimpy outfits (even work-related cruises have their downtime).

The week before the cruise flew by, and I gave Hunter only a kiss on the cheek as he slept through my early-morning departure. I kept largely to myself for the first two days, not wanting to get too chummy with anyone and then be caught off guard if I spied them in the audience, preparing my speech and wondering just how many hook-ups were happening onboard at that very moment. The crowd was mixed and while wedding rings abounded, I knew as well as anyone that didn’t necessarily mean anything. I hoped someone was getting some, anyway; all I had was my hand and the little clit-stimulation vibrator I’d brought with me, one I’d found worked much better with penetration than without.

I also worked out in the gym on-board, sweating away the stress and the sexual tension, pumping iron and jogging until I returned to my room spent. When it came time to give my speech, I was mellow, focused, fully prepared and, to be immodest for a moment, I can safely say that I nailed it. I wowed them, making them laugh at all the right moments, seeing nods of recognition, smiles of excitement as I promised them that they too could have everything they ever wanted, fulfil every wish, if they only took a stronger command of their schedules. Yo u can learn to be punctual, organized and on top of things, but some of us need more training than others. I shared my own journey, and finished to a rousing round of applause, followed by a line twenty-people deep waiting to talk to me.

After about an hour, only two people were left — two very hot guys, both tall, muscular, exuding testosterone, who seemed to know each other well. One was a redhead, his shock of bright locks glowing from the light while the other had a round, bald black head. Together they looked almost comical, but they were friends from Seattle, both in charge of their own successful start-ups, but concerned that they spent all their time on work, with little left for play. And it seemed that both of them were more than happy to ignore my wedding ring as they chatted me up. The cruise director came over and thanked me, and I figured, while I wrapped up my business with him, my new friends, Sean and Rick, would take off, but they were waiting for me when I finished things up.

“Want to get a drink?” Rick asked, touching my arm and sending heat running along my skin. Then Sean touched my other arm and the twin forces seemed to race to meet in my centre.

I looked from one to the other, then smiled a tiny smile, realizing that far from home, way out at sea, I was very likely about to get my chance to avenge the misbegotten blow job, to redeem my cock-sucking skills in a way I had never imagined.

We went through the usual social niceties, save for the alcohol on my part, which surely would have helped get this particular party started. Without it, I was reminded yet again that one of us would have to make the first move, and while they were sitting on either side of me, their barstools as close as could be, neither had mentioned anything about going back to my room, or one of theirs. So finally, as I saw the last customers other than us leave the bar in favour of bingo and dancing, I turned to Rick and began stroking his sexy, bald head. “I’ve never been with a. . bald man before,” I said, because it was true. Then I leaned forwards and kissed him, our lips meeting briefly as equals before his swallowed mine. I hoped Sean would get my silent message that kissing Rick was in no way meant to exclude him. Already, I knew I’d found the men who’d provide me with much more than the mouthful of cock I’d been craving. When I felt Sean massaging the back of my neck, his fingers kneading me there, making me moan against Rick’s lips, I knew we’d each gotten the message loud and clear.

I was sure one of the bartenders was about to tell us to get a room, and didn’t want those I’d just lectured to about to-do lists and next-action items to see me sandwiched between two men, as hot as they were, so I extricated myself, stood up, and simply offered a hand to each of them, leading them down the hall to my suite, grateful that a quirk of fate had gotten me a king-size bed rather than a twin.

Some women would take the opportunity to get naked with two hot guys as the perfect time to try double penetration. But I could do that with a butt plug and a big fat vibrator, and I do, often. That wasn’t what I was looking for, not tonight, anyway. I had something even naughtier in mind, and I was going to make sure they were both so turned on they wouldn’t dream of saying no. I may have been cheating, but I felt like I deserved it — plus, when would such a glorious opportunity come my way again?

The two men followed me, as if that had been their plan all along. Who knows? Maybe it had been. Maybe they were used to taking a woman home with them together. Maybe they were the kings of threesomes and often found women who were more than willing to double team them. But I had a feeling this was as new to them as it was to me, the latter a secret I hoped to never reveal. For tonight, I didn’t want to be some sheltered girl who was trembling with nerves, at least, on the outside. I wanted to be the kind of red-blooded woman who craved not just cock, but cocks. Who was so adept at sucking them that she could take two at once, easily, one whose offers were never rebuffed because she was just that good.

My mouth watered — as did my pussy — as the image of me with their dicks in my mouth simultaneously filled my head. There was no room in my body for the hot shame of tears I’d felt earlier that morning, even though if I tried I could feel that gentle push on my shoulder, feel Hunter moving me along as if I were some unwanted obstacle in his path to success, some annoying girl with her incessant demand for blow jobs rather than the one he’d told me was the only girl for him. I guess technically I still was; he’d said he loved me, not that he wanted his dick sucked in the morning, though to me, those two were inseparable.

I knew rationally that his universe was the mixed-up one, because in real life, men should be drooling, begging, utterly undone when faced with a woman who can’t wait to take their cocks all the way down her throat, then wish she had more to choke her with. But be that as it may, I needed to be shown, not just told by the voices in my head, that I was the best cocksucker in the world (or at least, one of them), like the way after a break-up friends tell you to get back between the sheets straight away. To erase the sting of oral rejection, I had to get back in the game, big time.

Soon there was a hand on each of my ass cheeks, manly fingers squeezing and caressing, and in the elevator, each man reached beneath my dress. Fingers on each hip slid my panties down just enough for the cool air to reach my lips before they began exploring my wetness. We were headed to the penthouse and had a ways to go before reaching the climax of our ride, and I humped those fingers back as they slid inside me while the other pair circled my clit hard with a thumb.

I could tell they thought one particular thing was going to happen; they were going to fuck me, either together or one at a time. I was going to lie there and let them, maybe arch up into them, moan a little, have an orgasm or two. But they’d be the ones taking me, penetrating me, and I let them think that. “Face the mirror,” said Sean, his red head appearing behind mine as he pressed my hands fl at against it. Then Rick’s dark skin was before me, his fingers dipping into my already low-cut blouse, exposing my nipple. Seeing the pink bud there in the mirror made it all more real, and I was lucky that we arrived at our floor when we did, otherwise I might have been caught mid-act in front of strangers who may or not have been pleased to see a woman with two cocks in her mouth. As wild as I may be, that was for behind locked doors.

In moments, that’s where we were. Rick turned on the radio and I moved into Sean’s arms. I wanted to take control but he had his hands on my ass, kneading my cheeks, and then Rick was behind me, lifting my dress up. Sean pulled it all the way up, then over my head. I watched it land on the floor as Rick pushed my panties down while Sean began stroking my breasts, holding their weight in his hands. I stared at his erection, hoping I’d get to see it unveiled soon. Rick’s fingers slipped between my legs and I trembled, arching against his touch despite myself.

“What do you want, Carla?” Sean asked as he pushed my breasts together, then sucked both my nipples at once, his mouth providing both relief and a tease. It had been a long time since they’d been more than briefly caressed. What they were doing felt so good — Sean’s lips there, Rick’s fingers there — that I was hesitant to call a halt to their ministrations just so I could get down on my knees. But then I turned around to look at Rick and the outline of his dick made me gasp. It was huge, straining against the front of his pants, and I reached for it.

Then I turned so I could touch each of them, a cock in each hand. “I want you both to get naked, and then sit down next to each other on the bed. I’m going to give you the best blow job of your life. Please, don’t say no. That’s part of why I took this gig — to find a man who’d let me use my mouth the way God intended, to fill me up so deep. And now there are two of you.” I couldn’t talk any more; I was so wet, so horny, but underneath, also tense, wondering if this hunky pair would prove to be just like my man, the one I’d thought was full of as much testosterone as I could stand, but who was proving that bed death isn’t just a lesbian thing.

“Do it for me. Let me.” I stepped back, not wanting to beg. Sean looked at my body longingly, running a hand from my cheek down my neck and shoulder, his fingers warm as they travelled along my skin.

“Give me a second,” said Rick, and I watched his chocolate-brown fingers slide between my legs, pressing upwards. He made a show of entering me, then pulling out so we could all see my dew coating him. That brief touch felt so good, but this wasn’t about my pussy any more, but my pride. I needed to avenge myself as a girl who knows her way around a dick, not simply gratify my basest needs. And besides, fucking is always, 100 per cent of the time, better once I’ve swallowed a man’s come, once I’ve worked my way up. Sex should be a reward for a blow job well done, a reward I’m well primed for by virtue of being on my knees, savouring his essence. When I don’t get to put my taste buds into action, I feel deprived, like we’re skipping some essential step in the process.

And going home without having done the deed, even if I got pounded by these two studs, would’ve meant I’d somehow failed. I needed those dicks in my mouth, and I needed them there now. Rick raised his fingers and I shut my eyes and opened my mouth, and he fucked me with them. There’s a big difference between a man letting you suck on his fingers and fucking your mouth with them, all the difference in the world, really. When he simply places them there gently, he allows you to take over, to lift your tongue to the salt of his skin, to wrap your lips tightly around his fingers, to mould yourself around him. When he fucks your mouth, he claims it as his own, lets you know that your mouth is for his use, not yours. It’s the rare man who really knows how to fuck a woman’s mouth with his hand like that; most of the men I’ve been with get too excited by the way it feels, too aroused by the warm wetness, the reminder of its similarity to her pussy, the promise of what might happen.

But Rick read me perfectly. He got me ready, had me rocking my head back and forth in time with his thrusts, as my juices slowly dribbled down my thighs, my legs trembling.

Then he abruptly took them away. I lifted my head, opened my eyes, and watched them undress. Rick proudly pulled down his zipper, his giant cock popping free, while Sean was slower, as if he had some reason to be ashamed (he so didn’t). He looked down at his cock, then up at me, and finally, at Rick. I didn’t know if either had been in a situation quite like this, one where it wasn’t just about getting a girl off, together, but about the energy passing between three people.

After all, I wasn’t about to let their dicks touch in my mouth without making them kiss each other first. I took off my bra, stepped out of my panties, but kept my heels on. I like to feel them pressing into my feet when I’m on the ground, curling against me, reminding me that I’m servicing a man, even when it feels like he’s servicing me. I walked towards Sean, turning him and marching him towards the bed. I peeled back the covers and pushed him down, then crooked my finger at Rick to join us. They sat so close they were touching, their dicks standing at attention, all for me. I stood, my breasts in front of their faces, then reached for Rick’s cock while I kissed Sean. Rick reached up and grabbed my ass, and once again, I had to remind myself of my mission. I could’ve easily straddled either man, sank down in one fast motion, switching off my mouth’s salivating instincts and telling my pussy to take over. But I resisted the lure of that luscious dick for a few more moments.

I stood and pushed their faces together into one of the hottest kisses I’ve ever seen, slow and hot, manly and sensual at once. “You two are so gorgeous,” I said. “You could make a lot of money renting yourself out to horny rich women. Or just photographing these two cocks.” I pushed them together, rubbing the pre-come-laden heads against each other. They pulled apart and stared down at their now-joined cocks, as if they’d never seen such a beautiful sight. Maybe they hadn’t; it wasn’t the time to ask.

Even more than I loved simply being in the room with two naked men, I loved manipulating them, knowing they were at my mercy. I liked the idea that they were straight, for the most part, yet would do this favour for me, would let me have my fun by joining them together. I knelt down before them, never surrendering an inch of that feminine power as I pressed their dicks together, one white like mine, one brown, both equally gorgeous. When I tried to wrap my mouth around both heads at once, to my disappointment — but not theirs — I couldn’t. I opened as wide as I could, but still, they were too big for me. Maybe two smaller cocks could’ve made it, but I didn’t want anyone else’s.

Instead, I made sure they both got a treat. I licked each head, alternating so neither man would feel left out. I shut my eyes and tried to forget which dick was which, because it didn’t really matter. I slid my thumb along the wet slit of one as I pressed my mouth down on the other. Sean and Rick each murmured their encouragement, as invested in our oral menage-a-trois as I was. When I opened my eyes at one point, I was faced with a wall of cock, both flush against the other, and it seemed less like I was going down on them than that we were all having sex with one another.

I shifted down to lick their balls, something I used to find odd but have grown to love, those tender sacs the opposite of the hard poles I held in my hands. Knowing I could get two men off made me feel invincible, like I could handle — and enjoy — an army of men. When I said to Rick, “I want to swallow your cock,” he groaned and guided my lips to his dick.

Sean stroked my hair, encouraging me, and when I looked up at him, he said, “I’m next.” satisfied, I started in on the best part of a blow job: deep-throating. It’s not for everyone, but to me, it’s the greatest test of my sexual skills, and the surest way to make my pussy ache. Often, it gets me in trouble, because I suck a guy off so well he’s spent for a while, leaving me wanting. But I had a plan: I’d suck Rick, then Sean, to climax, then take a ride on each of them.

I concentrated fully on Rick’s huge dick, which stretched my mouth and meant I had to fully focus on what I was doing. But even with such steady focus, I could feel Rick breathing, stroking, observing. It made me all the more excited, like this was meant to be. If Hunter hadn’t pushed me aside, maybe I wouldn’t be getting this luscious opportunity. I sucked in as much air through my nose as I could while letting Rick invade my mouth. There was a point at which I surrendered some of my power, let it melt on my tongue until Rick was fucking me, fucking my mouth as surely as he’d later fuck my pussy. “That’s it,” he said, and our eyes locked as I rose up and down under his guidance. With one hand wrapped around his shaft, I reached for Sean’s leg, needing to hold him too as Rick started to thrust harder into me, until all of a sudden, he was coming. He announced it with a yell, and soon his semen was flooding my mouth. I eased up enough so I could swallow as best I could, though some of it dribbled out.

I panted, my eyes glazed, as I finally slid off him. He thanked me by roughly pinching my nipples, making me pant and then bite my lip. And he didn’t stop. No, Rick kept right on toying with my nipples as I shifted my attention on to Sean. At first, I thought this wasn’t really fair. How could I be expected to give another sensational blow job when my body was being distracted, tormented and teased? Well, somehow I did, and I think what I lacked in finesse I made up for with the sloppy fervour with which I swallowed Sean’s cock. He could see that Rick was fingering my pussy, then hear him smacking my ass, then sense that he’d put his head between my legs. I didn’t talk dirty to Sean, didn’t tell him how delicious his cock was, how even though it wasn’t as fat as Rick’s, it was long and hit that spot at the back of my throat that makes me cream.

He stopped me before he could shoot down my throat. “No?” I asked, disappointed.

“I want to come on your face,” he said, his voice husky and serious.

“Oh my God,” was all I could say as I shut my eyes. He slapped his dick against my cheek, as I once again submitted, this time to two men at once. I could tell Rick was hard again and he teased me by slapping his dick against my ass as Sean rained come down on my face, then slid down so he could kiss me.

I was ready for anything by that point, as long as it involved me getting fucked. Rick handed me a condom and with trembling fingers I unrolled it on to his dick, which seemed even bigger than it had earlier. Instead of having me face him, though, he lay down and positioned me astride him, facing away — reverse cowgirl. This gave Sean the chance to play with my tits, to suck on my clit, to look at every inch of me, and he took all those chances and more. The two fucked me in tandem just as well as if they’d been doing double penetration. As the sensations swept over me, I grabbed Sean’s hand and stuffed four fingers in my mouth, that needy orifice begging for more. His stray hand roamed his friend’s body, adding to the erotic current between us. I may have bitten his fingers as I came, I don’t really know. I lost it there at the end, shaking and trembling, overwhelmed by Rick’s giant cock, his hands slamming my hips up and down, Sean’s hot tongue flaming against me. All I know is that I came and saw lights in front of my eyes, then leaned back so I was resting against Rick’s chest as he pumped me up and down before coming again.

It’s hard for me to believe sometimes that I’m an expert in time management, when sex — good sex, that is — is enough to make me forget that time even exists. I spent every free minute of the rest of the cruise with the two men, and though we exchanged numbers and email addresses, I knew we weren’t going to try to take this off the boat.

Oh, and when I got home, I split up with Hunter, making a clean break. No more sex, and the great irony was that as I was leaving, he begged me for one final blow job. “Find another girl. I’m busy,” I said. . and, for the rest of the night, I was. It’s not too difficult to find a man who likes his dick sucked if you’re a girl like me, but I’d forgotten that for a while. I’m grateful to Sean and Rick for reminding me.