containing a gram of high-grade coke. We did lines, taking turns performing oral sex on each other. It was nothing too hectic, just slow, comfortable sucking, without any goals.
By the time the sun rose, the drugs were finished. Beth was sucking Brian's cock as the first rays came in through the tiny window. She stopped sucking him off, and leaned over to kiss me. She gave him a handjob, and after a minute, he shot a small load. She licked her fingers and polished his cock clean with her mouth and eager tongue.
She got up and rinsed her mouth out with rum.
“Let's get the fuck out of here, guys. Today's going to be a scorcher.”
Beth was quite right about that. We packed up and took Brian with us, making our way down the contour path before the heat of the morning could catch us. By noon, we reached the delicious coolness of the river and streams, between the canyons. The cold water kept us awake, as the coke wore off and our exhaustion set in. By late afternoon, we had one last short section of the trail ahead of us. We were about 10 minutes away from before the parking lot. Our adventure was drawing to a close, and we were sure nothing more could happen to us — until we rounded the last bend in the path.
There was a commotion to left of us, the sound coming from where a couple of tall trees grew, surrounded by large boulders and low bushes. We could see our baboon friends, lazing in the afternoon sun, content as all hell. Beth's hand automatically went for her Norinka, but the baboons made no attempt at stalking us. They just sat there on the rocks, and in the branches of the tree, chilling. One of the baboons had a remnant of Brian's hiking gear: an empty Tupperware container.
Brian chuckled and said: “Dagga cookies, man, dagga cookies.”
We walked on, leaving the baboons to enjoy the stolen space cakes. For a change, they were stoned in a good way.
We made our way back to our cars and drove to the city. I slept over at Beth's place. The extra drive to my apartment was too risky, because we'd been awake for 38 hours straight. We slept for a solid day. By Tuesday, things were back to normal. The routine of working, studying and partying, was in full swing.
Beth and I didn't become partners or regular lovers, but occasional tryst did occur at random times. I added Brian on Facebook, but we didn't pursue any kind of relationship. I didn't have much in common with him, and he lived on the other side of the peninsula. It just wasn't worth the effort.
On the outside, nothing much changed for me after that weekend's events. Inside, a lot has changed. I have decided to explore my sexuality more, push my boundaries, and not tie myself down to relationships that restrict me. I'm eager to experience new things in my sex life.
And I'm looking forward to my next adventure.
GROUP ORGY
Its amazing how one simple question can force you to analyze your life.
Yes, I'm a chick, but I'm not a dumb chick. Clicking on stupid links and willingly sharing personal information to dodgy third parties on social networks, is not something I do regularly. However, my female friends do not practice such restraint, so I'm bombarded with Wall spam on a daily basis.
Still, the question intrigued me. My friends and co-workers certainly knew me as a party animal. I was always game for going out clubbing till sunrise, doing the odd line, all the usual stuff you'd expect from a waitress working in Cape Town. Life is easy in this city, if you have the right job. For me though, partying meant much more than just going out and getting wasted. It meant that I absolutely had to get shagged. Up until fairly recently, this wasn't a problem. I'd always been in a series of steady relationships since high school.
The last one ended badly though, and it's almost a year since I've been in a relationship with a guy. I made a decision to broaden my horizons, try new things. So far, I've had a couple of memorable experiences, and found that I quite like getting intimate with women. Also, I was in a threesome with a girlfriend of mine, and some random guy we met. Now, threesomes are nothing new these days.
In fact, I kinda avoided the whole group sex scene on purpose, mostly because it was just too 'fashionable' over the last decade. Seriously though, I'm attractive enough to be desirable to most swinging couples in my age group. I consider myself to be a good catch. At the age of 26, I'm taller than average, weighing 120 pounds, and I have a fairly good body that I maintain with daily jogging and recreational rock climbing on the weekends. I have fair skin and light auburn hair, along with blue eyes, which are really quite striking.
So, back to the concept of partying: I was talking about our little threesome with Beth Weinstein, reminiscing about how amazing it all felt, and how I felt that I'd accomplished a goal in my sexual development. That's when she said: “Jen, honey, you need more guys in the mix. You don't know what a threesome really is, until you you've had at least two cocks inside you at once.”
Now, I was sure she had a good point there, but I had my reservations about being a receptacle for multiple pork swords. As with most things in life, early experiences tend to influence you the most. If your parents gave you shit-tasting vegetables when you were little, you probably ended up disliking vegetables when you become an adult.
The first significant penis-related incident occurred during Grade 8, when I started High School. My older brother was a senior, and very involved in sports and other after-school activities — me, not so much. I liked running in the forest, but wasn't into team sports. I did things like archery and body boarding on the weekends. As a result, I used to come home before him on school days.
For about a year, I used to sneak into my brother's room, to steal his girly mags. At first, I just enjoyed looking at all the naked, fully-developed women, comparing their curves to my tall, lean frame. As time went by, I got more interested in the harder stuff, and enjoyed looking at pictorials with couples. It wasn’t long before I discovered my brother's folder of porn movies on his hard drive.
My brother, James, was almost always home late, so I used the late afternoon privacy in the house to do my porn missions. I used to get away with my illicit fun at least three times a week, and I was fairly confident that I wouldn't be caught out.
One particular Thursday afternoon, I got home early, as usual. James was usually at the local gym until 6pm on Thursdays. My parents were never home before 7pm from their furniture factory, so I reckoned I was safe. My brother's computer was always on, and he was lazy about using difficult passwords and security measures. Besides, my parents were technophobes, so he didn't have to worry about them snooping. I went upstairs, put my case in my room and got changed. I wore tracksuit pants and a long T-shirt. The pants were loose, and the black material was fairly thick. I always wore these for my clandestine masturbation sessions. They provided easy access to my pussy, and they hid the evidence of my fooling around, in case I got interrupted.
I went into his room, sat down in front of the computer and moved the mouse to turn the screen on. I logged on using his password that was written on sticker, attached to the side of his PC. Like I said, James wasn't all that security-conscious.
I navigated through his movie folder, into a sub folder named ‘Special’. This was where he stashed all his porn flicks, ranging from short free samples from websites, to DVD rips he got from his friends at school. I selected a movie with a college sorority theme and turned down the speakers, so I could hear if the phone rang, or if someone was downstairs at the front door. After about five minutes, I was really absorbed in the movie. The scenario looked like a lot of fun: two sorority sisters were discussing their favorite masturbation techniques, and they decided to demonstrate those techniques to each other.
I had my fingers on my nipples, and I could feel the first tingling sensations in my pussy, when I heard what sounded like the front door being opened. I sat upright, paused the movie and listening intently for the sound of keys or footsteps. Maybe James is home early, I thought to myself. I heard voices. James was having a conversation with someone, and they were in the house already!
I panicked. I couldn't just slip away to my room. I needed to shut down the media player software and open search windows. I clicked on the little red 'x' in the upper right corner of the movie window. The visuals grayed out, but the program did not close immediately. 'Program not responding' was the message. “Shit!” I cursed softly, while
