First threesome broke my brain.
I'm M26, and I need to get this off my chest because it's been burning in my brain every single day since. My girlfriend is 24, an absolute stunner. Great tits, killer curves, fake tan that makes her look permanently sun-kissed, and that cheeky smile that says she knows exactly what she's doing. She's had a good few partners before me I’ve always known that and while it used to make me a bit insecure, lately it’s been doing the opposite. We’d joked about threesomes before, flirty late-night talk, but nothing ever happened. Until her birthday.
She got ready like she was on a mission. Tight dress that barely covered her arse, heels that made her legs look endless, freshly shaved smooth, and that glow from the tan. She looked like pure filth in the best way. We hadn’t even been in the bar an hour when this older fella, mid30s, confident as fuck, starts chatting her up right in front of me. No pretending I wasn’t there. He looked her up and down slowly and told her she looked “fuckable as hell tonight.” Then he leaned in and said she had that filthy, ready to be ruined look in her eyes. My stomach flipped. Part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off, but another part, a much stronger part, was getting hard just watching her bite her lip and smile.
He asked her straight out what her body count was, smirking at me the whole time. She laughed, glanced at me, and gave a vague answer. The tension in the air was electric. I could see her nipples pressing against her dress.
She pulled me aside after a bit, heart racing, and whispered that she thought he was cute. “It’s my birthday, babe… do you mind if I just have one dance with him?” Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and a bit of nerves. I hesitated for half a second, then nodded. The second she walked back over to him I felt that rush jealousy twisting in my gut mixed with this sick, throbbing arousal.
On the dancefloor he wasted no time. Hands all over her arse, squeezing hard, pulling her into him so she was grinding back. She looked over at me once or twice, flushed, almost checking if I was okay, but her body was moving with him. When he tried to grab her tits she slapped his hand away playfully, but she was laughing and pressing her arse tighter against him. I stood there like an idiot, drink in hand, cock straining against my jeans, heart pounding so hard I felt dizzy. The mix of “this is my girlfriend” and “fuck, look at her” was messing with my head in the hottest way.
Out in the smoking area it got worse. She asked him for a cheeky ciggie right in front of me. I told her no, we were trying to cut down, but he just grinned, lit one, and handed it to her. Then he looked at me and said, “Is there anything else your man doesn’t let you do, love?” The way he said it… cocky. She took a drag, eyes flicking between us. Next thing he’s offering her a line of coke in the toilets. The air felt thick. She looked at me again, that questioning, horny little glance, and I just gave a small nod. I couldn’t believe what I was agreeing to, but stopping it felt impossible.
We all slipped into the disabled cubicle in the nightclub. The second the door locked the energy changed. She did a line with him, then he grabbed her hair and pushed her down. “Time to pay me back, you dirty bitch.” She didn’t even hesitate. Dropped to her knees and started sucking him like she was starving for it. Sloppy, noisy, gagging as he face fucked her. Spit running down her chin, mascara starting to smear. He kept looking over at me while thrusting into her throat. “Look at your girlfriend, lad. Proper little slut, isn’t she?”
I was frozen, breathing heavy. Then she reached over without stopping, yanked my jeans down and started stroking me hard. The contrast between her face getting used by him, her hand on me was insane. I couldn’t stop staring at her eyes watering, her stretched lips, the way her throat bulged slightly. The psychological fuckery of it all had me leaking pre cum like crazy.
He pulled out suddenly, spun her around, bent her over the toilet and hiked her skirt up. No condom. He rubbed his cock along her soaked pussy once, then slammed in raw. She gasped loud. He started pounding her rough, feral, no mercy. The sound of her arse cheeks clapping echoed in that tiny cubicle, loud and wet. He choked her, slapped her arse red, yanked her hair back so her back arched. “Take that cock, you filthy cunt.” Her moans were guttural, desperate. Then she pulled me closer and took me in her mouth while he railed her from behind.
I’ll never forget the look on her face. Eyes half rolled, completely lost in it, mascara tears, ruined lipstick, cheeks flushed. Hearing her moan around my cock while her pussy was getting destroyed… the jealousy was sharp but the horniness was overwhelming. I felt like my brain was short circuiting.
He went harder, grunting, then buried himself deep and came inside her with a groan. He stayed there a few seconds, pulsing, before pulling out. Cum was already dripping down her thigh. He zipped up, smirked at me and said, “Clean your girlfriend up, lad,” then just left.
She was shaking, breathing ragged. Pushed me down onto the toilet seat, climbed on top and sank straight down onto my cock. Fuck. She was wrecked stretched, dripping with his load. I could feel it all, warm and slippery, every thrust squelching. The marks on her throat from his hand, her smudged makeup, the way she rode me like a woman who’d just been properly used… it was too much. I lasted maybe two minutes before I exploded inside her too, mixing with him.
We tried to clean up, but she was walking funny, thighs sticky, dress creased. We left the club together. She kept squeezing my hand, smiling this secret, satisfied smile. I’m still processing it. The jealousy hits me in waves, but every time I think about her face getting fucked, those clapping sounds, the way she felt stretched around me after him… I get hard instantly. It was degrading and intense and ridiculously hot. I think I might be addicted to that feeling now.