A Weekend With Stacy - Friday

While my sex life has been pretty active and varied starting in my twenties, I was a bit of a late bloomer. My first sexual experience with another person came the summer before college when I was 18, when I shared a weekend alone with my friend Stacy in a cabin in the mountains. It set my sex life and romantic life going in a pattern that it still follows to this day. This story is long, and as much about my friendship and connection with her and my introductions to non monogamy as it is about the sexuality and pleasure we shared together that summer.

I never kissed a girl until I was 17, when I fell into a relationship with Stacy who I had known as a good friend since middle school. She’s an amazing woman now and was then, and I owe a lot of the person I have become to her. Wicked smart, she took no shit from anyone and would tell me in no uncertain terms when I did something stupid. Only about four foot eight, skinny but with generous boobs for her size, and absolutely gorgeous face with black hair down to her shoulders. We only dated for three months, and we never did anything past kissing, but it rocked my world. She was also my introduction to non monogamy and polyamory – we dated at the same time that she dated my best friend, with all three of us fully aware of what was going on and approving about it. I never looked back. Wonder what 17 year old me would think looking at me now in my thirties, very bisexual with more male partners than female and in a 7-year committed open relationship with a married couple. But I digress.

Though Stacy and I broke up in high school and realized we weren’t really emotionally compatible, our breakup started a pattern of amicable breakups that preserved a close friendship which I still seem to follow. She and I had known each other since our teens and were already friends, and it felt like our time in a relationship just solidified that even more and left us a familiarity and intimacy that let us be completely open with each other. The summer after we graduated from high school and turned eighteen, she and I were still quite close. She had had rather more sexual experience than I had over the course of high school, and I was asking her about what it was like. Listening to her describe mutual masturbation with her new boyfriend she met at an internship was so incredibly hot, and she seemed amused at what her words were doing to me. I complained that I had no opportunity to be more sexual than kissing with anyone but myself so far, and that was with her. And that was when she said one word.

“...Well...”

My heartbeat sped up. “Well what?”

She explained to me that she and her boyfriend (the new one, not my best friend) were polyamorous, which I expected. But then she said that they’d talked about being open. This was not a new idea to me, despite my inexperience. I was just coming to terms with my bisexuality and the fact that I seemed to want to bed about half my friends of both sexes, and my time sharing Stacy with my best friend had imprinted on me that love and sex did not have to be exclusive, not even to be meaningful. But to hear it in real life, was still something new.

In the end, after a bunch of back and forth on the nature of polyamory and open relationships, she let the shoe drop. “And… If I was going to mess around with a friend… it’d be you.”

To make a VERY long story very short, we decided to go for it. She loved the idea of introducing me more deeply into the world of sex, and the thought of sharing it with someone I cared about as a friend just felt right. Well, we decided to go for it after I asked her for her boyfriend’s phone number and talked to him directly that is – it was NOT that I didn’t trust her, but that I would never have forgiven myself if I did anything to get between her and her sweetie. Over a week or so she talked with him, and when I got to talk to him he was incredibly chill while I hyperventilated. You try asking your friend’s boyfriend if you can play with her pussy. But his chill knew no bounds. “You made her very happy when you were together. Playing around will make her happy now. Show her a good time. You’re a good guy. Enjoy yourselves.” Given the context, I think this is one of the best compliments I have ever gotten.

She, I, and a couple other friends had been talking about setting up a couple long-weekend outings to a cabin in middle of nowhere rural Appalachia that my family owned, to celebrate the summer before we went off to college. Stacy and I decided to make sure to arrange one of those weekends with just us. And surveying our friends, in the end we made the first weekend our one-on-one outing. On the phone, around family and friends, we talked about the usual outdoorsy stuff we wanted to do – swimming in the river, finding fossils in a slate bed by the side of the dirt road, campfires, stargazing. But one day, over an instant messenger on my laptop, we got around to talking about what else we wanted to try when we were there alone.

She messaged first. “I wanna watch you play with yourself. Guys faces are so sexy when they come.” I was rock hard in seconds. I replied “Heh… I come a lot… do you like watching the jizz, or just the face?”

“Omigod YES.”

I didn’t know what to say, my mind spinning. After a pause, she messaged me again. “What do YOU want to do?” I replied quick. “I wanna see you too. Playing with yourself. But that’s probably obvious.” Thinking, I continued. “I don’t wanna wear clothes when we’re not in public. I like being naked. You know I sleep naked.” At this point in my life I had never been to a nudist resort, but I knew I desperately wanted to (and these days in my thirties, they are where I met many of my best friends and lovers).

Stacy replied. “Sounds like fun. I sleep topless. I don’t get much chance to be naked at home.”“Our own little nudist campground!”

 That night, I jacked off twice, picturing her naked in bed at the cabin.Finally, the day came. We borrowed a car from my parents, and left on a Friday after work telling them we’d be back Monday afternoon.We loaded up our cooler of food, backpacks, and clothes – though we didn’t expect to be wearing much. The drive was a  good three and a half hours, playing CDs and talking about our plans going to different colleges across the country from each other in the fall. There was a frisson of anticipation in the back of my mind, and I caught her giving me sideways looks and a few smiles along the way. But what struck me was just how… normal, casual, and comfortable we were talking with each other the whole way. We had dated, and that hadn’t worked. We weren’t right for each other that way. But, somehow, we were right for each other in some other way. We understood each other, anticipated each other, cared for each other deeply even if we weren’t good romantic partners. It was just right. To this day, one of the things I love most about nonmonogamy is not needing to put relationships into silos, friend or partner, romance or FWB. Relationships can just be what they are, as good and close as is best with that person.

We got to the cabin Friday evening at the end of a long and winding dirt road, with the sun dipping behind the mountains and the sky just starting to darken. The cabin was at the top of a steep driveway on a hillside, surrounded by pine trees on 3 sides with a mowed clearing to the fourth with a deck, a fire pit, and a killer view of the stars. The river was not on our property, but you could get to it just a bit further down the dirt road. Inside was not exactly luxurious but not shabby. I showed her around after I unlocked the door and turned on the lights – there was a single large kitchen/common room with a table and chairs, a couch and recliner, and an old tube TV hooked up to a DVD player on top of a bookshelf. We had indoor plumbing hooked up to a well and septic system even if the water stank of sulfur, and two bedrooms. One had a queen sized bed and one with two twins. Stacy was thrilled. “I thought this was gonna be a little shack, this is nicer than I expected!” she enthused, as she put her duffel bag down next to the queen sized bed.

My anticipation tingled again. I spoke up. “Would you like me to take the other bedroom, or...” She smiled. “Nah. We can share. As long as you’re a gentleman.” I hugged her, her head coming to below my chin. “The gentlest of men.” It was dark but still a bit hot, and we turned the window AC unit on and unpacked – there wasn’t all that much, mostly the weekend’s worth of food and a bag of clothes and toiletries each and some DVDs. With the food put away in the refrigerator, we got out some chips and hummus and sat down on the couch while I popped in a DVD and turned the lights out. Sitting down, I was pleasantly surprised to find her cuddling up against me as Star Trek came on (we are a bunch of total nerds). To this day I’ll never forget what we watched as she put an arm around me and I returned the favor – it was the episode where an alien space-baby sucks power from the ship while poor Geordie acts like a complete ass to a married visiting scientist he’s into. Stacy laughed so hard at him creeping on her. Looking sideways in the dark, at her smiling face as she lay against my chest, I felt so content. I knew this weekend was probably going to get more interesting, but being there with her still felt right.

With Star Trek over, we went out on the deck to look at the stars. From the middle of the Appalachians, the milky way is a beautiful sight. I don’t know how long we braved the mosquitoes to stay out there, but it kept us for a while. By the time we came back in, Stacy was yawning and it was well after 11 PM. We could tell it was time for bed. She may have been visibly tired, but my nerves were buzzing. “So… you still don’t mind if I sleep naked?” I asked, at the moment of truth as we gathered our backpacks and made our way into one the bedroom with the single, queen-sized bed. She just smiled. “You think I’d change my mind about that now?” She dug through her backpack, and got out her toothbrush. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.” I did, slipping off my shirt and quickly stepping out of my shorts and boxers the second she was in the bathroom. For some reason nudity has never bothered me and is just comfy. Trying to allay some nerves, I pulled up my own duffel and rifled through it, past the superfluous shorts and shirts I packed and pulling out a swimsuit and swim goggles I had brought for the river, and all my toiletries. As I arranged them on the dresser in the dim light, the door behind me opened.

“Wow, nice butt.” At this time in my life I was trim and not exactly muscled but broad shouldered (I didn’t put on some pudge until grad school), with long straight brown hair down past my shoulders. My skin was naturally slightly tan all over from lots of Mediterranean ancestry, with no obvious tan lines but a bit of a farmer’s tan past my knees and elbows. She got a good look all up and down my back, as I turned to face her.

She stood in the bedroom doorway, all but naked herself. Holding the clothes she’d worn in the car and her toothbrush under one hand, all she wore was a brief pair of white panties that hugged low on her hips. I finally got a view of her uninterrupted, gorgeous curves, my eyes drawn to her waist well above her underwear and her C cup breasts standing out, with light pink nipples against her pale skin. After a few seconds, I replied with the first thing to come to mind. “Wow, nice boobs.” Brilliant.

Her face cracked, and she just started laughing. I smiled back, but she just kept laughing, and halfway doubled over. “What’s so funny?” She straightened up, still giggling, and pointed a finger at my waist. “You’re pointy!” Looking down, I saw what she meant. I was starting to become half hard. My cock is about six and a third inches hard, and not that much shorter soft, and a good thickness (which my more recent lovers tend to appreciate more than the length). But half hard, standing out in a bit of an arc, my dickhead was lengthening before fully filling out in width, and indeed was kind of shaped like a strawberry. “Hey, don’t knock it. I’m not even all hard yet.”

Silent giggles finally subsiding, Stacy dropped her clothes on top of her duffel. She wasted no time. “Well, maybe you should get on that,” she said, never taking her eyes off me. I hardly needed to be told twice, and my hand came down to start stroking myself. I walked around to the other side of the bed, and climbed up. By the time I laid back atop the sheets, my cock was hard to my full length, and my full thickness becoming clear. Stacy closed the door, and switched on the lamp on the nightstand by her side of the bed before turning off the overhead light switch. It gave the room a darker, warmer intimacy. I watched, rapt, as she too climbed up on the bed. Seeing her hips and back move was electrifying, and the way her breasts pulled back as she lay on her back looking over at me, drove me to full hardness, no longer ‘pointy’.

“That didn’t take long.” “I have a pretty nice inspiration to look at.”

She seemed to decide to show off a bit. Stretching her arms up above her head and her legs down the length of the bed, I got a beautiful view of her head to toe. From the side she looked almost bare, just the tiniest bit of white fabric around her hips. “God, you’re beautiful. I love the way your boobs move when you stretch.”

She was obviously getting turned on, and decided to humor me. She reached up with one hand to play with her boobs and she moved her other hand up and down her torso, hip to shoulder. I just watched, stroking myself and occasionally thrusting into my hand the way I’d learned to since I was eleven. “Do you like watching me?” “Yes. You’re so hard. Thicker than my sweetie. I don’t know if you could even fit in me.”

I thrust harder into my hand at the thought. Everything just came naturally. The two of us showed off for each other, me starting to stroke my body with one hand as I thrust into my fist with the other, she playing with her boobs to give me a show. My breathing sped, as I felt myself climbing the mountain of arousal. She too started to flush. We occasionally spoke, whenever one of us did something the other found particularly sexy. Until finally, finally, she slid her right hand under the waistband of her panties.

I was still an inexperienced virgin who’d never so much as touched a pussy in his life. That was just too much. “Oh god here it comes here it comes...” I thrust my hips up off the bed, forcing my cockhead and shaft up through my fist, as I groaned and tipped over that sweet edge. My first volley of cum sailed straight past my head, and splattered on the headboard behind me. “Ohhhh...” I groaned out, as spurt after spurt just kept coming, even harder than I usually come. Ordinarily I come into three stacked tissues, but here, giving a show while extra horny, one rope of jizz caught my chin and neck, two more caught my chest, and as I fizzled out more ropes coated my abs. I closed my eyes, my whole body tingling. I just gasped, and breathed, head lolling sideways as my cock started to slowly deflate in my cummy fist.

I don’t know how long I lay there, breathing, cock deflating, covered in cum, my sense of time destroyed. But one sentence, hissed out in a breathy tone jarred me back to the land of the living. “God… that was so hot...” I opened my eyes. Stacy was laying on her side right next to me, her face flushed, one hand cupping a breast and the other busy below her panties. I didn’t know if she’d come watching me, but either way she certainly seemed to enjoy it. Even through my post-orgasmic haze, that feeling of satisfaction, of having done something to bring pleasure to someone else, filled me. It was a feeling I would come to know well.

The two of us just lay there, looking each other in the eyes and smiling gently for a minute or two, her fingers still gently moving below her panties. Until I let go of my cock at last, finding my hand, abs, chest, and even neck coated in jizz. “God, I’m a mess.” “A sexy mess.” “Glad you approve.” “So much.” “God, I don’t even know if I can get up without covering the blanket in jizz...”

Stacy pulled her fingers out of her panties, and gave them a lick – enough to make even my post-orgasmic cock twitch just a bit. She got up, washed her hands, and came back into the bedroom with a box of tissues from the bathroom. She handed me some, and I wiped up my cock and hands – and she, to my surprise, grabbed a wad and started cleaning up my neck and chest. Leaning over me, her breasts hanging down, she spoke. “You came so much. God that was hot to watch.” She sniffed. “I like the smell of your cum.”

I wadded up the tissues I’d finished with. That was new to me. “Really? Good. I think there’s gonna be a lot this weekend.” “God, I hope so.” “… Maybe I can smell you.” “Mmmm… maybe.” Having just had one of the strongest orgasms of my life well after midnight, I was spent. Once we were done cleaning me up, Stacy pulled back the sheets. The two of us slipped under the covers, me naked, her nearly naked, and she turned out the light. I was ready to just stay on my side of the bed, but she slid over and spooned up against me, my chest against her warm back and my soft dick against her butt. She pulled one of my hands over her body, and pulled it up to cup her breasts. I was surprised. “I’ve never felt boobs before,” I whispered, half awed and half afraid.

“Well, I’m glad we can fix that.” She paused. “I had a great time tonight.” “Me too.” “Goodnight.” “Goodnight.”

We fell asleep, bare skin against bare skin, cuddled up together. It just felt right. Saturday and Sunday coming up later.