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How my girlfriend turned me gay: The End

Last of 5 parts. This one has girls, but that will make sense if you've read the previous four.
He did stay that night, and the three nights after that. He left the house only to work, I left it only to get more groceries and lay in supplies of beer and wine. We were naked most of the time, and I lost count of how many times we had sex. A few times I topped him, but mostly he topped me, although we often just sucked or jacked each other. We did it in the bed, in the shower, on the floor in front of the fire. Once we grabbed sleeping bags and stole out of the house naked -- it was cold but sunny -- laid the bags together and sucked each other off. Another time when I got home from the store he met me at the door naked, cock already hard, yanked my pants down, bent me over the back of the couch and fucked me standing up.

On Friday night we went to the bar in town, got happy but not shit-faced, and spent the night at his place, a small house not far from the docks. It was clean and neat but cramped in comparison to mine, so on Saturday we went back out to my house in the woods. This time he brought several changes of clothes, a couple of books and a toothbrush, and I knew we had passed a certain point in our relationship.

A couple more weeks passed, and our sexual explorations began to go further. One day he came back from town with several short lengths of rope and said, “Tie me up.”

I had never done anything like this before, but by this point in our explorations I was ready for just about anything. I led him into the bedroom, told him to strip and lie down on the bed. I bound his wrists to the bedposts on either side and undressed myself. I parted his legs and lifted them up so I could get at his ass. I dove in and started eating him out, and soon had him writhing in pleasure. When he was good and wet and loose I put my cock against his hole, and teased him with the tip until he begged me to fuck him. With one long thrust I slid my cock in as far as it would go, and there was no doubt that he felt far more pleasure than pain. I pushed his thighs up against his chest and fucked him in long, steady strokes, until I shot my load with a shout of my own.

He still had not come but his cock was leaking a steady stream, and he pleaded with me to make him come . But I had the advantage, and wasn’t going to give it up. I took two more pieces of rope, tied his ankles to the lower bedposts, leaving just enough play for his legs to spread apart, and slid three fingers into his ass, which was dripping with my cum. Not roughly, but firmly, I started massaging his prostate, and soon had him near tears with excitement. When he was on the very verge of coming I took my fingers out.

“Fucker!” he shouted. “DO IT.”

I reached in the bedside drawer, pulled out the tube of K-Y and put a big glob of it in my hole. Then I straddled his torso, took hold of his cock and lowered myself onto it in one long, slow motion. He tried to thrust into me from below, but he was tied too tightly to gain the needed leverage. I decided it was time to gratify his wish; I started riding the pony, but we hadn’t gone one furlong before he shot into me, gasping and sobbing with release. Fully five minutes passed before his cock stopped twitching in my ass.

“Fucker,” he said contentedly. “Asshole. Dickhead. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said.

I meant it. So did he.


A few nights later we were at the bar, deep in conversation, when I sensed someone standing next to me. I looked up and saw two women, one of whom was looking at me intently.

“This guy look familiar?” she asked her friend.

“Hard to tell with his clothes on,” the other said.

Oh, no, I thought. I looked at the women, then at Steve. Amusement danced in his eyes.

“You all know each other?” he asked.

“We saw him once, in a cove down the coast a little,” the first woman said. “He didn’t look his best.”

The other one laughed, a delightful, ringing laugh.

“Have a seat,” Steve said, sliding over to make room for one of them. “I’d like to hear more about this.”

The first woman, blond, green-eyed, slim but rounded in the right places, sat down next to Steve. The other one, taller, brunette and dark-eyed, more voluptuous -- the one who had commented on my shortcomings that day in the cove -- leaned one hip against my shoulder and pushed me aside.

“Thanks for making room,” she said, giving me a sardonic look. “A perfect gentleman.”

The blond one -- Lisa, as it turned out -- told Steve the story: They had been hiking along the coast outside of town when they stopped to rest on a rock overlooking the water. They were just about to leave when they heard someone crashing through the underbrush, and a naked man burst into view. He ran into the water, thrashed about for a minute and then stood up in the shallows, shouting and showing what she considered was a better-than-average body.

“Thanks for that anyway,” I thought.

“But the guy’s dick was, well....less impressive,” Andrea offered, giving me that sardonic look again and laughing that ringing laugh.

“Shrinkage,” I offered, lamely.

“Well,” Lisa said, “perhaps you’ll get a chance to redeem yourself.”

This was said with a non-commital air, but accompanied by a lifted eyebrow and a barely suggestive smile.

An hour later they were still with us. We had ordered and dispatched two plates of wings and three pitchers of beer, and had talked and laughed so much my sides ached. When I suggested we go back to my place -- with an innocent air, a lifted eyebrow and a barely suggestive smile -- the women readily agreed. Steve looked at me with surprise but not disagreement, and 20 minutes later we were home.

While Steve rooted around in the fridge I started a fire. When it was going strong I plopped on the couch, Andrea sat down next to me, and Lisa sat next to Steve on the floor. We talked for a few minutes, but soon the room grew quiet and the tension started to build. That it was sexual tension I had no doubt; you could practically smell it. If the women suspected anything about Steve and me they didn’t show it.

Steve made the first move. Giving me a significant look, he turned Lisa’s face to his and kissed her lingeringly. Andrea then turned and did the same to me. Both kisses grew more passionate, and the sound of our breathing got heavier.

Suddenly Lisa stood up, shucked off her top and, with a practiced move, unhooked her bra from behind. It fell to the floor, revealing two delightfully shaped tits with small areolas and big erect nipples.

“Very nice,” Steve commented, burying his face between them.

Andrea, meanwhile, was undoing my belt.

“Time to see the real you,” she said.

In seconds she loosened the belt, undid the button and lowered the zipper, taking care to touch the bulge inside as often as possible with the back of her hand. When her hands went to the waistband I lifted my hips, and in one motion she slid pants and underwear to my knees. Mr. Happy was present and ready for duty.

“That’s more like it,” she said approvingly, and lowered her mouth to it. She took in about half the length at first, slid her lips back to the tip, and then took in damn near the whole length on the second go-round. Steve meanwhile had got Lisa’s pants down, and his face was buried in her bush. Lisa was stroking her own tits, pinching the nipples slightly, and when Steve slipped a finger into her cunt she let out a serious moan.

Andrea stood up, shucked off her sweater and undershirt, and two big round tits came into view. She leaned forward, as if making an offering to me. I took them in my hands, brought the nipples close together and licked them one by one. The nipples sprang to life, and goose bumps rose on the areolas. Better than my ex-wife’s, I thought to myself.

When Andrea started fumbling with her pants, I let go of her breasts, unzipped her pants and lowered them to the floor. Her panties were soaked in the front. I pressed my face against them, inhaling a sharp female smell that I hadn’t encountered in a long time. I tore them off, and plunged my tongue into the crack just visible within the dark hair. A whimper escaped her lips, and she moved her legs apart so I could penetrate further. Before I knew what was happening she had pulled me to the floor and wrapped her legs around my torso. My cock slid inside her without the least resistance, and when I started thrusting she met every movement with one of her own.

I turned my head in time to see Steve and Lisa hit the floor not three feet away, his cock already buried in her cunt, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Steve started thrusting, too, and through some sort of telepathy our movements coordinated of themselves. The room was filled with animal sounds: Lisa’s moans, Steve’s purring, Andrea’s high-pitched whimpering, my raspy breathing. I could hear Steve’s balls slapping against Lisa’s ass, and a wet sucking sound from Andrea’s cunt as I plunged away.

“Oh, God,” Lisa said. “Oh my fucking God.”

Only seconds remained before what promised to be four simultaneous orgasms. Catching a movement in the corner of my eye, I turned and saw Steve looking at me, a wicked gleam in his eye. He said just one word:

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