Quote: "I am fifty years old and I have fucked more than one hundred men"
I am fifty years old and I have fucked more than one hundred men -- but I'm not very kinky. My adventures have been mostly conventional: one man, one woman, one bed.
I recall one night, however, with something out of the ordinary. It was on Pattaya beach in Thailand. Night life in Pattaya is hot, sleazy bars filled with half-dressed Thai girls peddling their wares. Thai women are cheap, willing, and cute. A "round eye" -- as Western women are called -- has to be pretty desirable to get much attention.
I am an American and I went to Pattaya with two girl friends, also American. I was about 40 then, the other two girls were in their early 30s. We all lacked steady men in our lives, and we all worked and lived in Bangkok. None of us were beauties, but we looked pretty sexy that night. I wore a short loose dress with a scoop neck and spaghetti straps and I left my bra at home, thus displaying ample cleavage and an occasional errant nipple for the world to see. My two girl friends wore shorts and tank tops, the color of their nipples showing through the fabric. I had every intention of getting laid that night -- and so did my friends.
We danced and drank until midnight in a bar with a tiny dance floor. Most of the Western men in the place were tourists and were more interested in the exotic Thai girls than us, but we collected a presentable pair named Steve and Jay and invited them to a stroll on the beach on the way back to our rented bungalow. All three women were calculating the same: three women, two men -- somebody is going to get left out. I figured it would be me because I'm big and clunky and I can never think of anything clever to say.
Perhaps the mismatch in numbers led us women to be more daring than usual. The beach was quiet and empty and dark. One of my girl friends said, "I want to go swimming." She pulled off her tank top and shorts, threw them down on the sand, and ran naked into the gentle surf. She turned around and laughed, "Come on in, you chickens."
The rest of us followed her lead. It was so dark that we couldn't see much, but I remember the outline of flopping penises and testicles and my breasts bounced like basketballs as we ran into the ocean. We laughed and splashed in the water, and played tag. After a few minutes, we quieted down, all of us standing nipple-deep in the water waiting for somebody to take the lead.
It was Steve. I don't know who initiated contact. We flowed into each others arms and he kissed me long and hard, the contours of our bodies fitting together as we stood in the warm tropical sea. I put my arms around his neck and locked my legs around his waist, pressing hard against his groin. I'm not coy. When a suitable man makes his move I respond quickly. Steve held me with his hands under my butt cheeks and sought out my vagina with his penis. He was immediately successful.
I love the feel of a standing-up climax, a shake-all over, weak-kneed, breathless thrill of emotion that buckles your knees and makes you feel faint. But -- many sexy movie scenes to the contrary -- the insertion of a penis into a vagina while both persons are standing is difficult and usually unsatisfactory. Steve and I enjoyed an unusually good fit. He impaled me and pulled me back and forth, gently and slowly and I arched my back to facilitate deeper strokes, leaning back as far as I could without drowning. He climaxed first with a shudder, but he was a well-mannered man, not one to come and go. After a moment's rest he kept pumping away at me until he went soft. Then, I climbed down and he cradled me one arm while he inserted two fingers into my vagina. I climaxed with a cry in the night.
We relaxed and shivered together in what now seemed like frigid water. Looking around, I saw one of my girl friends on the beach. Jay was on top of her, her legs locked around his waist, his hands under her buttocks, the two of them rocking back and forth on the sand while little wavelets of water broke around them.
My other girl friend was standing in the water about twenty feet away, discreetly staring into the distance. She was naked, alone and unattended. Steve was looking at her too and I could feel his penis getting hard on my thigh. I felt generous. It's always been a fault of mine. "Look," I said, to Steve. "You should pay some attention to her." He nodded, kissed me goodbye and left me behind, going over to the other girl. They stood facing each other for a moment, kissed, and within a minute the two of them headed for the beach and laid down together on the sand.
I walked out of the water and sat on the sand. On one side of me Jay was fucking one girl friend and on the other Steve was fucking the other. Jay finished first, their climax noisy. They rested together a moment, lying side by side, her hand on his limp penis. He sat up, looked at me, sitting there naked about 10 feet away, nodded at me, and walked into the water. He washed sand off himself in knee deep water and then motioned for me to join him. He didn't need to invite me twice. We met in the water, kissed, and I dropped to the sand, sitting with my legs apart, and he straddled me. The waves lapped over us and he played in my vagina with his hand and penis, not really able to penetrate me deeply. It didn't matter. I climaxed like a roman candle. When I began to massage his penis to help bring him to climax him he said, "I can't do this twice so quickly."
The other two girls and Steve were now sitting on the beach side by side recovering from their trysts. Both girls sat with their legs open and receptive. Jay and I joined them and we talked and rested for a few minutes. I sat in the middle. I was the queen bee -- fucked, or at least brought to climax by both men while my girl friends had each only had one.
The men soon remedied that inequity. With a nod to each other they took my girl friends down on the sand. Both men climbed on, so close to me that they nearly touched me on both sides. Both the men had already climaxed once and it took them a few minutes to get erections, which caused merriment, massage, and ribald comment, but soon both couples were humping together. One of my girl friends sought the deepest penetration by locking her legs around Steve's waist and spreading her legs wide, pulling him down hard on every stroke. The other sat on Jay, bouncing up on down on top of him, tits and hair flying in the dark. Both girls had lost all inhibition, screaming in joy as penises pounded their vaginas. I enjoyed watching -- so much so that I got hot all over again.
The sand flew, feet slapped up and down in the waves, and both men and women achieved near simultaneous climaxes -- one of the women screaming in ecstasy -- while my finger found its way to my clitoris. I was almost at a climax when the two couples pulled themselves apart and reclined on the sand, breathing hard, and making those post-coital cooing sounds. They returned to consciousness -- and I was too shy to complete my self-induced orgasm sitting there on the sand with four people watching. We all rested side by side, arms around each other, jolly with the pleasure of having had good sex. My friends lay motionless and exhausted while I gave the most seductive of small wiggles, hoping against hope that one of the men would notice and give me the thirty seconds of the penal attention that I needed. Alas, their limp peckers stayed buried in the sand.
We soon parted company. We all put on our sandy clothes and the men walked us to our bungalow. We waved a casual goodbye to them as they continued on down the beach. We never saw either of them again.
I could hardly wait to get into bed and find relief with my third orgasm of the evening.
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