Sharing Nasty Stories From Our Past by TerraNova61
Dive into 'Sharing Nasty Stories From Our Past,' an enticing erotic sex story that explores forbidden fantasies and steamy encounters. Join us as we unveil captivating tales that ignite passion and stir desire. Perfect for adventurous readers seeking to indulge in seductive narratives. Read now for a thrilling ride!<br/>
Everyone having sex is at least eighteen years old.
“Tell me a story.”
“What?” Kim looked at me with her eyebrows high. Her cute, red lips turned up at the corners of her mouth.
“Tell me a story.” I grinned at her and could almost hear her thoughts. After a moment, I relented. “A sexy story… about something you did before we met.”
The light bulb went on over her head, and her matching grin widened. “You want to hear about something I did before? With another guy?”
“Or girl.”
She laughed and smacked my arm. I leaned over and kissed her, my hand running along her side, then sliding over and cupping her boob, still covered by her halter top.
“Why do you want me to tell you that?”
I shrugged, not easily as we were both lying on the bed on our sides, facing each other. Reaching up, I tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear.
“I don’t know. It’d be a turn-on, I guess.”
Her brown eyes twinkled. I loved how the shades of brown swirled through her eyes, as if made of perfect mahogany, buffed to a shine.
“You think you’ll get turned on by hearing about me having sex with someone else?” Her smile showed her white teeth, setting off her Mediterranean complexion.
It always amazed me to see the two of us in a mirror. She was dark and lovely. Long, black hair, plush, but not overly large tits, a warm smile and sparkling eyes.
I was tall, thinner than average, but fit. My short, blonde hair and blue eyes stood in stark contrast to her darker look.
We were in love. And man, the sex was incredible. Early on, we learned how we both got excited by role playing and dirty pillow talk. We’d talk about people we knew, and how they probably wanted to fuck us, and tell each other how it would feel to screw one of our friends.
The night before, as I did her against the wall, she squirmed when I told her how our waiter that evening might have followed her into the ladies’ room. How he would have cornered her in the stall and bent her over, fucking her quickly before allowing her to come back and finish her meal with me. Of course, dinner would be on the house, and I would wonder why.
She would invent situations for me, too. Telling me stories about her friends and how they confided to her about how they wanted to fuck me. She’d tell me how I could go about doing it when they were over, detailing how I could lure them upstairs for a few minutes, just long enough to cum deep inside them before returning to the group downstairs.
Our minds worked overtime, coming up with all kinds of imaginary scenarios that would excite the other.
“Yes, I would get excited. We’ve made up all kinds of stories. Now I want to hear about things you actually did,” I said, kissing her nose and making her giggle.
She tilted her head and looked at me sideways. “You sure you won’t get angry? You don’t know all the guys I’ve done things with.”
Shaking my head, I said, “I can handle it. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” she said, smiling. “But are you sure?”
“Yeah. What difference does it make who you were with? That was in the past.”
“You might learn some things you didn’t know,” she said, making me wonder exactly what she meant. I found it made my cock grow.
“So, how about this? You tell me a story of something you did, and I’ll tell you one.”
She looked at me, nodding. “And how do I know if you’re telling me the truth?”
“Why would I lie?”
She pursed her lips. “Good point.”
I got an idea then. “Okay,” I sat up, propped up on my elbow. “How about this? We both tell each other a story of something really sexy, kinky, nasty, or just plain wrong we’ve done. Something we wouldn’t normally talk about.”
“Uh, huh.”
“And we have to decide if they were true or made up.”
“So we could make up something?”
“Yeah, and if we guess wrong, we get a penalty.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh! That could get interesting!”
I nodded, a grin growing. “But I think we should mostly tell true stories. Throw in a made-up one once in a while, just for variety.”
She smiled and nodded. “Okay.” She tilted her head toward me. “But you have to promise to not get mad at me for anything I tell you. And not tell anyone else what I tell you.” She looked right into my eyes.
“I promise. Same for you, too. You don’t know everything about me, either.”
“Deal.” She grinned at me. “You go first.”
I kissed her, my fingers finding their way under her halter top while I thought. “Okay, there was this time…”
####
“Have you seen Susan?” I turned at the familiar voice. My girlfriend’s older sister stood there, her clothes rumpled, eyes red and her ponytail in complete disarray.
I shook my head, frowning. “Nope.”
Marie looked at me, her head tilted. “She’s not with you?”
Again, I shook my head. “Haven’t seen her for over an hour.” I sighed and drained the last of my beer from the red plastic cup.
“Oh, shit,” Marie said, her voice low as she looked around. Two guys walked down the stairs nearby, both laughing. One of them said something, and they high-fived each other.
As they hit the landing, both of them glanced over at me. The grins on their faces told me what I already suspected. I heard Marie sigh next to me. “Oh, shit,” she repeated, then started up the stairs.
She turned to look at me, pausing on the third step. “Help me. Please?”
I’d always had a thing for Marie, but knew that a senior, and cheerleader to boot, would never go out with me, a lowly junior, even though we were almost the same age. I’d been held back in the first grade, and was now older than most of the others in my grade.
Dating her sister Susan had been the next best thing to bagging Marie. That, and she would fuck me. I had to admit; it didn’t make for the best, most stable foundation to a relationship. But, damn, Susan could fuck, and I loved it.
The problem was that Susan loved to fuck. And not just me. Hence, I found myself following the cute ass that swayed under Marie’s short skirt up the stairs. It didn’t surprise me to catch a glimpse of damp pussy lips poking out from under. Marie had been known to get nasty at parties occasionally, and I figured some lucky asshole here had gotten inside her. That son of a bitch. I wanted that.
We found Susan in one of the bedrooms, sprawled out and freshly fucked. I sighed, my eyes taking in her soaked pussy. Cum hung from her sparse pubic hair, and pooled on her flat, tanned stomach. I saw how it filled in her belly button and wondered how many guys came on her to get that much spooge all over her.
Marie got a towel from the adjoining bathroom and wiped her down as I gathered up her clothes. She moaned, not quite unconscious, but totally out of it as I pulled up her panties. I stuck a finger inside her, for good measure, before getting her underwear and shorts buttoned up.
We finished getting her dressed and I carried her down the stairs and out to my car. I buckled her up in the passenger seat as Marie got in the back.
In the ten minutes it took to get to Marie and Susan’s house, both sisters passed out. I turned onto their street, but didn’t stop in their driveway. Instead, I went further to where the streetlight was out. It was a dead end, with no houses nearby.