interracial threesome

My cellphone rang. I was writing at my apartment.



“Hey, it’s me. Busy?”



“Hey, Alexi. Just writing. What’s going on?”



“Can you come pick me up in about an hour? And wear workout clothes.”



“Uh, okay. Are we going to the gym?”



“Not exactly. I’m getting a massage. My muscles are killing me from sitting here pecking at the computer. I’m meeting this guy at a hotel. He meets his clients at their place, but I don’t want him to know where I live. And from what I hear about him, I may not be able to drive back,” she laughed.  “But I can’t stay the night – I’ve got work to do back here later. My publisher’s gotten fidgety ever since they gave me that big advance.”



“Oh-key,” I said. “Sounds interesting. Do I get to watch?”



“I don’t see why not. You’ve seen it all, and been in most of it. Besides, that’s part of it, too. I got good references on this guy, but I’m still not sure I want to be alone with him.”



“Why do I need to wear workout clothes?”



“I thought you’d be more comfortable in them. He said he’d be wearing running shorts. Me, I’ll be in my birthday suit,” she giggled. From the sound of her voice, I decided there was another reason she didn’t want to drive. She’d probably been relaxing her muscles with red wine already.



She got in my car, wearing a track suit. “Thanks for doing this,” she said. “I’m really looking forward to it.”



Me too, I thought. The idea of watching Alexi getting oiled up by some guy and rubbed all over while she wore nothing but a towel (and knowing her, that wouldn’t last long) was exciting. “But you know, Alex,” I mused. “I’d figure you for wanting it done by a female masseuse.”



“I’m sure you’d like to see that,” she laughed, “but this isn’t about sex, for once. This is about getting a good rub-down. And not many women have the body strength I like. Not many men have the body strength this guy has, for that matter. He used to play for the Redskins.”



I wondered how seriously that “this isn’t about sex” idea was going to hold, knowing her, but I didn’t say anything. We drove in silence the rest of the way to the hotel. When we got there I handed the keys to my car to a valet, who reluctantly parked what was probably the first Toyota he’d had to touch all day.



We checked into the room, and Alex encouraged me to help myself to the mini-bar. I got a beer and sat down in a chair. She took a shower, then put on panties and a camisole and tried to keep from bouncing on the bed. I was glad it was almost time. When the door knocked, she got up and admitted a nice-looking, muscular black man wearing a nylon running suit and track shoes.



“Hi, I’m Curtis,” he said, extending an enormous hand to Alex, and then to me as I walked up. “Who’s this? Your boyfriend?” he said, turning a little tense. His grip was dry and gentle, but I could tell he could break most normal men in half if he wanted to.



“Not exactly. He’s a friend of mine. He wanted to see you work; he said he might want a massage sometime.”



“Okay,” Curtis said, not sounding quite convinced, but probably used to dealing with jealous or curious husbands and boyfriends enough to not question the arrangements. He set up a sturdy folding massage table he had brought in, and got out a caddy that held his massage oils and other items. He went to get towels from the bathroom, and returning with an armload he put one on the table and told Alex to strip, get face-down on the table, and put the towel over her buttocks.



As Alex complied with this, he stripped down to some running shorts and his shoes. I sat in a chair on the other side of the large room, and I could see Alex relax as Curtis began to work her over from head to toe. He had started with some delicate strokes on her neck, and worked his way down, stopping periodically to get more massage oil on her, his stokes becoming firmer as he reached the large muscles of her back and glutes. The towel had moved up over the cleft of her buttocks as he worked them, and he replaced it as he began to work on her legs. But from the squirming and sighing Alex was starting to do, I had little trouble imagining her pussy and clit becoming red, swollen, and wet. He stroked her inner thighs, and she began to moan. From the angle of his hands, it looked like he was probably brushing her clitoris lightly from time to time. As she started to hump the table in frustration, he stopped.



“Turn over if you would like your chest and abdomen massaged,” Curtis said, softly.



“Who wouldn’t want to be massaged all over?” Alex sighed, turning over. She hadn’t really bothered to replace the towel, and it lay more or less uselessly along her thighs.



“Some people are uncomfortable with it, women especially,” his voice trailed off. He was undoubtedly noticing her large, erect, pink nipples and the total absence of hair around her vagina. “But it’s good to open up the chest, particularly.” He took the towel off and began to replace it to cover her, but she shook her head. He let the towel fall to the floor and began to make gentle strokes on her face.



He worked his way down her front for another thirty minutes, lingering on her breasts and hips and upper thighs. By now, of course, I was hard and trying to find a way to sit so that my cock wouldn’t be too obvious. I was also fighting an urge to pull it out of my shorts and relieve some tension. I began to see why Alex suggested I wear them; I would have been extremely uncomfortable wearing pants by now. His own shorts were revealing a mammoth tent pole, and I’m sure Alex was stealing glances at it from time to time. He stayed positioned at her head as he moved lower down her body, stretching his tall, shirtless torso over her further and further to reach down to her abdomen and hips. His enormous package began to rub up against Alex’s hair and forehead, and he moved down to her feet to finish working on her legs. I was impressed by his self-control; I would have been dipping fingers into her pussy, which was beginning to drip.



Finally he had worked on every part of her body. She looked flushed; knowing her she had quietly orgasmed at least twice. “Okay, does that cover everything?” he asked.



“How much more for you to drop those running shorts?” she asked, sitting up. Apparently the massage and the idea of his cock had gotten her so aroused that “this isn’t about sex” had gone out the window.



He tried to look like he was thinking it over. “$500 more,” he said. “Cash. We’re not supposed to do that.”



“Honey, will you get my purse?” she called.



I got up to get it, but Curtis laughed. “I trust you to pay me. I’ve never had a client who wasn’t satisfied.” He took his running shorts off and stepped out of them. I think we both stared; I know Alex’s eyes got wide.



“Oh, my,” she said. With that, Alex hopped off the table and took charge. “Lay down, legs off the end of the table.” He complied, and she stood in front of him. She picked up his cock and hefted it, as if trying to decide something. “Have you got a condom?” she asked, still toying with his cock.



“It’s in my bag, if your friend doesn’t mind getting it,” Curtis grunted. I got it, and Alex took it and opened the package. I got back in my chair, and this time I gave in to the urge to start rubbing myself. I didn’t see how they could complain, assuming they even noticed. Alex was definitely on a different plane of existence by now.



“Will this thing fit?” she asked, rubbing his glans to harden him up a bit more and placing the rubber ring around the head.



“Barely,” he said. “It’s a tight fit.”



“I love a tight fit,” she mewed, rolling the condom down his long shaft until it wouldn’t go any further. Her breathing was a little ragged and her nipples were pointing out from her lovely breasts. She stood over him and began to work his monster cock into her tight, slick opening. The table was low enough for her to keep her weight on her legs, and she bent at the waist to start kissing his chest. “Easy, baby, easy. Don’t hurt me with that thing. Easy, oh, oh!” she moaned, spearing herself again and again, each time taking a bit more until she had it all the way in.



When she did, she began to arch her back and hold onto his arms as she rode him to an orgasm. She rested on his chest a moment after that. It appeared he hadn’t come yet; his cock was still rock hard and squirming up and down in her pussy as she held still. She turned around to look at me, and I was momentarily ashamed to be caught masturbating until I realized that she had just had sex with a complete stranger in front of me, and was still impaled on his cock.



“How much for you to drop those shorts, Gordon? I have another hole back here that needs filling.”



“We’ll discuss payment later,” I said. I couldn’t get them off fast enough. I could hear Curtis laughing quietly under her.



“Can he borrow some of your oils?” she asked. Right now he would have given her anything. This had started out as a business proposition for him, but I could tell he wanted to keep things moving now. He nodded his head, and I found a light oil that seemed right for the purpose.



“Lube me up good, he hasn’t left much room back there.” I did my best to comply. “A couple of fingers first. Oh, yeah, that’s good,” she said, starting to rock on Curtis again as I worked slippery fingers into her anus. “Give it to me, baby. Slip that cock into my ass.”



I rubbed the oil all over my cock, got up behind her and pushed her down onto Curtis. I was just enough taller than she was to be almost able to get the right angle, but her sphincter was still a bit tight and her pussy was so full of cock that the first time I tried it, I just slipped right back out. She wiggled her ass up at me, frustrated, and I tried again. This time I got my head past the tight opening, and she started slowly pushing back against me.



I started pushing back, and soon she was helpless in the rhythm that Curtis and I had created. I’m not sure her feet were still on the floor. I realized that our cocks were thrusting together, separated only by a few of Alex’s thin membranes. “Oh, god, it hurts!” she cried out, and it only spurred both of us to push harder. Curtis had gripped her waist to keep her from getting away from his short, brusque thrusts, and I was pinning her down on him by the upper arms, using the leverage to pound her ass. “Ow! It hurts! Faster! Get me off before I die!” she yelled. I could feel Curtis’ balls contract, and her own orgasm quickly followed. It squeezed my cock so hard I could feel my own semen start to back up painfully when my orgasm began, and I pulled out, shooting it forcefully along her back.



She almost fell down then. Curtis and I picked her up and laid her across the bed. “Can you pay Curtis, Gordon?” she asked quietly.



I got the money out of her purse as Curtis got washed up, dressed and quickly packed up his things. “Thank you, sir,” he said. “Call me again, ma’am. It was a pleasure,” he called to her, but there was no response. I put my own shorts back on and walked up to get the door for him, since his hands were full. “Is she going to be okay?” he whispered.



“Oh, sure. She loves it rough,” I said. The door closed behind him.



“Are you going to be okay?” I asked, returning to the bed.



“Help me to the shower,” she whimpered.



I walked her to the shower. She sat on the toilet and urinated, wincing, while I ran the water. I took my shorts back off and got in with her, steadying her with my hands as she washed herself. She ran the washcloth between her legs, and there was some blood.



“I’m sorry. I got carried away,” I said, kissing her on the shoulder. I washed myself off; I was a little sore myself. I could only imagine how she felt.



“I asked for it. Well, that’s enough cock to hold me for a while,” she groaned.



We were driving back to her apartment. She hadn’t said anything for ten minutes.



“Are we going to be okay?” I asked, nervously.



“Gordon, I all but begged you for it. I was already next to tearing from having him inside me, and I wanted more,” she said, tonelessly.



“I know. But still, you told us you were hurting.”



“It’s like trying to stop a freight train by standing in front of it at that point. Even I wasn’t sure I wanted it to stop. The pain was so bad it started turning into a kind of bliss. Ow,” she said, wincing as she moved her legs. We should have had a safe-word. I didn’t think I needed one for a massage.”



“Still, I’m sorry.”



“Gordon, I’m not sure I want to be alone tonight. I need to get some things to care for my poor vagina and ass, and I want my laptop. Then would you take me home with you?”



“Sure.”



“And then can I count on you to leave me alone? I know this has probably made you kind of hot, but trust me, I’m in no condition. I don’t think I even want to cuddle. Just let me sit on your couch and try to get my stupid head clear enough to write. You can sit in your office and write, too. I just want to feel there’s someone around. Can we do this?”



“Of course.”



“Then we’re going to be okay.”

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