A Man-Man-Manic Episode

So, what do you do for fun when you're a young, naive, emotional train wreck, in full swing of an early manic episode?

What I did, way back then, with my (ex)husband, was smoke a little crack with the neighbors, until everyone was good and happy.  Then someone would invite another friend over, who would bring a friend, and then someone else would pop in to say 'hello', and the next thing you know it's a party.  Sometimes there would be a little pot, and sometimes there would be a lineup of liquor.  On two occasions, the early hours of the morning found me picking out which of my (ex)husband's friends I wanted to lay beneath.  I would choose the most attractive one who had paid some attention to me, and showed an interest.  Someone who made me feel sexy.  My (ex)husband would pull him aside and quietly make the proposal.   

Now, when one thinks of a hot threesome orgy, one might think that the men would penetrate her body from both angles, simultaneously.  And one would think that a woman who was willing to have a hot threesome orgy would be willing to do that.  But I was actually quite shy, with little confidence in my own physical beauty.  I never went topless, not even alone with my (ex)husband.  Not even with other men before my (ex)husband.  The contents were open for business, but you just had to keep them in the container.


Here's how it all went down... I would lie on the bed, and both men would touch me, until I was I was physically ready.  My (ex)husband would mount me first, (you know, to display ownership and domination).  His stay was brief, and then he retreated to the back of the room, to watch as another man penetrates, and thrusts into his wife.  It was the moment of victory to me.  To be holding a man so close against my chest.  To kiss his neck and chest.  To feel his hands on my body while his pelvis rocks against mine.  They, each, were very handsome men.  The kind that I would never have a shot with in high school.  But one year later, and two thousand miles away, they wanted me.  Two other men, on separate occasions, wanted me.  (There were actually three, but the last one didn't happen like this).  Both men, in those moments, with the weight of their bodies laying heavy on mine, and their hardened dicks being gently squeezed by my soft pink flesh ... they even needed me.  Even my (ex)husband needed me.  He needed to be a voyeur, watching the live sex show.  Sometimes he would he would stick me one more time, before ejaculating on top of the sperm that already covered my stomach.  It was the closest that I could get to love, and I took it.