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Group Sex Disaster Stories

"Some of the mishaps in the swinging life. It doesn't always go according to plan!"

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My wife and I really love group sex. It's especially fun to have either a third party or another couple join in. But not all of these stories are the super-fantastic, ultra-erotic adventures you hope they will be. Sex can have its sweaty, sloppy, clumsy side. I thought I would share a few of these adventures.

ONE: My wife is at a party. I didn't choose to attend, so I stayed at home with a book. She ends up meeting a very attractive black man. He is handsome, tall (she says he's taller than I am, which is really saying something), and has one of those gym-rat bodies that populate the underwear ads. His skin is that glossy deep black that drives my wife wild. During their conversation, she finds out he is a doctor, interning in the emergency room at a nearby hospital.

"So," he asks, "would you like to go back to my place?"
"I'm married," my wife says.
"Ah. Do you fool around?"
"Only with my husband present."
"I see. Do you mean a three-way, perhaps?"
"That's exactly what I was thinking," my wife says. "If you aren't interested, say so."
"On the contrary," he grins, flashing his perfect teeth, "It sounds intriguing. Wait for me at the corner of Justinian and Grove street. I have to go home first, but I'll pick you up there at 10:00."

My wife calls me up and says, "Surprise! I'll be bringing home some company!" She then fills me in on the conversation up to now and the plans to meet. I'm very excited. This doctor sounds like a lot of fun.

My wife goes to the corner at ten, sharp. She waits and waits and waits. This is one of those neighborhoods where it isn't unusual to see some of the local "entrepreneurs" standing out on the street corner, and my wife starts to feel like a hooker herself. Ten minutes of waiting turns into twenty. She gives up and goes home.

When she walks in by herself, I say "What happened?"
"Stood up. Fucker never showed. Oh, well. That's the last chance he'll ever get."

Just then, the phone rings. It's the doctor.

"I'm on the corner," he says. "Where are you?"
"I'm at home," my wife replies.
"What?!? I told you to wait!"
"I did wait! I waited for twenty minutes! You didn't show up! So, I went home."
"Look, bitch!" he roars into the phone, "When I tell you to wait for me, you goddamn WAIT!!"

Nobody calls my wife a bitch. Big mistake.

I won't go into the verbatim of the ass-chewing this doctor received. Suffice to say, my wife read him the Riot Act for five solid minutes. She concluded with, "And if you EVER call here again, or if I EVER see you around, I'm taking out a restraining order on your ass!!"

So, not only didn't we have the three-way, we didn't have sex at all. We were both too pissed off.

TWO: Against our better judgment, we decide to take out a personal ad in the local underground newspaper. My wife is looking for "young and hung". I'm looking for someone who is bisexual.

The newspaper is out for only a few hours when the phone rings. The kid on the other end of the line is 19 years old and works as a dishwasher at one of the local hotels. "I'm fully bisexual," he says, "And I've got ten solid inches." We agree to pick him up outside the hotel when his shift ends.

The young man we pick up is tall and lanky with loose-hanging hair. He smells like kitchen grease and industrial sop. His hair is unkempt, but it's an interesting combination. We make our introductions, and drive back to our place.

It doesn't take us long to get naked. His cock is hard, but I can see right away that the ten-inch claim was a lie. Still, he has a nice, solid eight-incher with plenty of thickness to it, and a luscious set of low-hanging balls to fill out the ensemble.

I'm hard, too, and I take a step toward him to fondle his cock. He takes a step back.

"Uh ... I don't know if I'm ready for that," he says.
"I thought you were bisexual," was my reply.
"Well ... I'm more sort of a bi-curious. Can we take it slowly and see how it goes?"

That doesn't seem unreasonable, so the three of us get into bed, making sure that my wife is the one in the middle. She starts sucking his cock, and I get behind her with a dildo and plunge it into her pussy. This only goes on for a couple of minutes before she starts bucking and grinding into her first orgasm. She is moaning around his cock, and he is having a great time.
Then I get behind my wife and mount her, doggie-style. She just loves two cocks at once and starts sucking the dishwasher with a vengeance. I'm slamming my cock into her cunt from behind, and she goes into a second orgasm.
I know what's coming next: my wife will want to sit on his cock while I do her asshole at the same time. It's one of her favorites, and guaranteed to get her off.
As she lifts her mouth off of the dishwasher's erection, I sit close enough to get a mouthful of his meat. But he rolls away, saying, "Sorry, dude. Maybe later."

My wife wants to freshen up a bit before taking me up her ass, so she goes downstairs. So, it's just us guys in the bed. I ask him if he'd like to try blowing me.

"Sorry. No thanks."
"How about a little jack-off action?" I offer.
"Not for me."
"Well, can I jack you?" I ask.
"No."
"Is there something wrong?" I continue.
"Look, I'm just NOT INTO DUDES. Okay?"
"What happened to being bi-curious?"
"Well ... I made that up."

This last part of the conversation was overheard by my wife as she came into the bedroom again. I could see the look on her face. She picked up one of his shoes and threw it at him, hitting him in the eye.

"Grab your clothes and get the fuck out," she growled.
"But I live over in Tibbets County! And it's too late for a bus!" he pleaded.
"Then you better go whistle up a cab, asshole," was my wife's reply.

So, our dishwasher grabbed his things and got out. My wife retreated to take a shower "To get any of that lying bastard's residue off me," and then we finished up with me fucking her ass into a third orgasm.

Fun, but ultimately not too satisfying.

THREE: My wife met a girl in her yoga class. She was young, petite, energetic, and a lot of fun. The two of them had apparently had some sort of low-key flirtation going on for some time. My wife was worried about scaring her off, but she readily agreed to a three-way.

She came straight over to our house after the yoga session, and the three of us were naked in to time. The young lady and my wife got into a sixty-nine, eagerly lapping at each other's cunts for what seemed like an eternity. I wasn't complaining, though ... I had the best seat in the house. My wife broke away and re-positioned herself so that she could suck me off while the young lady ate out her pussy at the same time.
While I was getting my cock sucked by my wife, I reached over to play with the younger woman's pussy and to experimentally probe at her asshole. She cooed and wiggled in ways that signaled encouragement. Soon, I had as much of my fist in the girl's tight pussy as I could manage, given the position we were in.
My wife arched her back and groaned out in a powerful orgasm. The girl tried to keep working on my wife's clit, but my wife pushed the woman away, saying "Oh, no ... that's too much at once." The young lady then turned to me and said "Would you mind going down on me?"
"Not at all," I grinned.
"I'd really like it if you could eat me out and finger my ass at the same time," she said, getting into position.
I cheerfully knelt down in front of the bed to do as she asked.

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There was a crunching noise and my right knee flared in pain.

Somehow, the young woman's glasses had fallen off of the nightstand and on to the floor. I had accidentally kneeled on her glasses, crushing them and sending glass into my kneecap into the bargain. I had to go to the hospital for stitches.

Our friend laughed and said, "Hey, it was an accident. Could have happened to anyone!" We bought her a new pair of glasses, but it wasn't long after this episode that she quit the yoga class and we never saw her again.

Today, when people ask about the scar, I tell some lie about knee surgery.

FOUR: At a New Year's Eve party, we met another couple and got along really well with them. Let's call them Mr and Mrs Smith.

I was at the bar for a refill, when Mr Smith was standing next to me, making pointed comments about how attractive and desirable my wife is. I returned with some equally lurid observations about his wife, particularly her generous-sized breasts.

"If you'd like to see them, that can be arranged," he smirked, pouring himself another drink.
"I think I would like it a lot," I told him.
"We have a hot tub at our place," he said after gulping down half of his glass.
"Music to my ears. We need to stick around until after midnight, though, to make it look good."

I reported the situation to my wife, and she agreed that they were a very attractive couple. The blatant invitation to the hot-tub boded well.

After the midnight count-down and a round of champagne to toast the new year, we and the Smiths practically bolted out of the door, after saying our good-nights to the hosts. We probably weren't too discrete, but what the fuck. We were horny.
Once we were at the Smiths house, it was decided that the men would change in the guest bathroom while the women changed in the master bedroom. I watched Mr Smith get undressed and I couldn't believe my good luck. He had the body of a triathlete, and a fat, well-hung, meaty cock. I started to throw a rod looking at him, wondering at the same time what his reaction would be. I was delighted when he reached over, cupped my balls, and gave them a squeeze.

"Like what you see?" he asked.
"Who wouldn't?" I rasped.
"Well, not everybody goes both ways. We do." He shot a glance up in the direction of the bedroom. "What about your wife?"
"She's as bi as bi gets."
"Great. Maybe they're having a little preliminary fun right now." With that, he swooped down on my cock and gave me a quick, ten-second suck-up. "I want that to be nice and hard so that my wife can see how big you are."
We padded barefoot out to the hot tub, got the cover off, and made sure the temperature was right. "I'm going to whip up a pitcher of liquid courage," he said, and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.
The women appeared, arm-in-arm, and totally naked. They whooped and gasped, "Oooh! Hot! Hot! Hot! As they gingerly lowered their bodies into the water. I joined them, and Mr Smith soon arrived with a pitcher of martinis and four glasses.

I don't like martinis, so I declined. Besides, it wasn't long before my hands were too busy to hold a glass. Mrs Smith's fingers had found my cock and were stroking it. I had my fingers deep inside her curly red bush, and my other hand was sparring with Mr Smith's hand as we both took turns frigging my wife. With his other hand, he was tipping back martinis.
We were in the hot tub less than 20 minutes when Mrs Smith said, "You know, water makes a crummy lubricant. I'll bet I've got some better lube upstairs."

The four of us towelled off, and trooped up the stairs, a long, winding affair that climbed up to the vaulted, cathedral-style ceilings. Mr Smith suddenly pitched over, and fell down the entire length of the stairs.
The three of us ran down to the main floor to examine his body. The stairs were carpeted, so he had thankfully escaped any injury, but he was passed out cold.
"Too much liquid courage," his wife sighed. She went back to where the pitcher of martinis sat, and we saw that he had drunk two-thirds of it by himself.

We carried him upstairs and put him on the floor next to the bed, in case he woke up and wanted to rejoin the fun. Mrs Smith and my wife gave me an excellent tag-team blow job. I reciprocated by eating out Mrs Smith's cunt while my wife sat on her face at the same time. Then I got Mrs Smith on to all fours and started ramming her hard, doggy-style. When her orgasm hit, she was loudly grunting and moaning, but I heard some other, weird sounds as well.

Then we all smelled it.

Mr Smith, still lying on his side, was making these hideous noises as he repeatedly vomited up on the bedroom carpet. He was still out could, but a lake of puke was accumulating next to his head.

"I'm really sorry about this, " Mrs Smith said. "But I better take care of this and get him cleaned up. We'll make it up to you. Promise."

My wife and I dressed and left. But the Smiths sent us a nice email containing an apology and an invitation to join them again. The postscript to that is we became regular play partners for years afterward.

FIVE: We met a man we were interested in and invited him back to our house for a three-way. He made it clear in advance that he was "not at all bisexual" but would be willing to help me fuck my wife.

We began things in a standard fashion, with her giving him head and me fucking her with a dildo. She looked back at me and gasped, "Get it in my ass, quick!" I started fucking her ass with the dildo, and she climbed on top of the man to get his cock up her pussy at the same time.

She bounced up and down on his prick, and he licked and sucked on her nipples while he fucked her. I kept the dildo busy in her ass, until I could tell from their groans and moans that they were probably going to shoot off at the same time! A simultaneous! A nice rarity!

While my wife was clearly sailing over the edge of orgasm, there was something about the noise he was making that didn't quite fit. I soon realized his moans were actually sobs. Sure enough, there were tears running down his face. He pushed my wife off, rolled over, and started sobbing uncontrollably.

We weren't sure what had happened, and we were both trying to get him to calm down. I didn't want to touch him too much, realizing he might misinterpret it. When he finally calmed down, he said, "I'm sorry ... I'm sorry ... you two have made me realize that I have got to get back together with my wife."
"We're sorry if we spoiled things," I began.
"No! No! I should be thanking you two. I've been divorced only six months, but I can see now that it was a huge mistake, and I have got to get her back again! I just ... miss ... her ... so ... much!" and he started wailing with sorrow again.

He eventually collected himself, apologized for creating a scene, got dressed, and left. My wife and I looked at each other and shrugged.

"It takes all kinds," my wife said.
"Can't argue with that."

Is there a moral to all this? I don't know. Every now and then, you get a sexual encounter that is so fantastic, so amazing, that it is incredible in the truest sense of the word. No one would believe you, even if you told them.
But a lot of times, things don't always go according to plan. I don't know if you will find these stories instructive, but I hope you found them amusing.

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