S and I always have so much to talk about that we tend to chat for an hour before we get down to ‘business. The phone calls usually feature a moment where one of us says, “So, um, what are you wearing?” or some other ridiculous line. Before we know it, someone is barking orders and someone is whimpering responses as their fingers slide over a slick cunt.

This time when I spoke to S, the chatter was especially significant (and prophetic.) Being a seasoned polyamorist himself, S loves to hear about my novice forays into sluttery. As per usual, I had more whining to do about the state of my “game” than any exciting tales of hedonism and release. S cooed and sympathized with my stories of online duds until I finally burst out with, “Why the can’t I just fuck people I already know?” S couldn’t see the reason I shouldn’t but I already knew the answer. I felt too weird outing myself as an aspiring whore to people I sit next to in graduate seminars.

Furthermore, being in a relationship knocks me straight off of most people’s radar. I can hardly wear a t-shirt that says, “Yes, I have a boyfriend but I still might sleep with you.” We finished that portion of the conversation with me feeling condemned to put up with nonsense on personals sites if I ever hoped to achieve my dream of a threesome. Despite my needy whining (always a turn on), S was still in the mood. Perhaps it was all that talk (however bleak) of threesomes that managed to keep us both frisky.

He began giving me a detailed description of taking me over his knee and spanking me. Just then an idea occured to me but it seemed a bit far-fetched. As S and I continued, I couldn’t shake it from my head and before I knew it I had blurted my idea out. “Would you like to hear me really being spanked?”

There was a beat wherein I was certain that my idea was being dismissed as preposterous. Then he replied, “Do you think you could pull that off?”

I snapped to attention, “Oh yes, I think there is someone around here that might be willing to help!”

I scampered to the other room where J was playing a video game. I stood in the door behind him and said, “Um?”

He turned to view me leaning against the doorframe in my panties, still clutching the phone in my hand. “Is S done with you already?”

“No, actually we were wondering if you could help us with something.”

. . .

“Will you come spank me while he listens?”

What happens next is really just a bunch of salacious details, you can skip over them if you wish to advance the narrative more rapidly.

S ordered me onto my hands and knees on the bed. This gave J a nice view of my upturned ass from the edge of the bed. As S continued his filthy monologue, J layed a hard smack on my behind and I let out a squeal. S growled in approval.

Around this time, I slipped my hand between my legs and began touching my slick pussy. The excitement, and fear, and newness of it all had made me incredibly wet. As I strummed my clit, I didn’t know which sensations to focus on. I realized I could check into one or another and really concentrate or I could float dreamily among them, accepting stray twinges of sensation to latch onto and enjoy. A sexy voice in my ear, a hard spanking, my own squealing, and my fingers flicking my wet clit.

J’s gift is having one perfect, insanely hot line whenever we get rough. This time was no different. As S verbally coaxed me to explode, J laid an especially hard smack on my ass and collapsed against me as I shrieked. His mouth just a hair from my ear he roughly whispered, “You better fucking come for him.”

I groaned my acceptance of his command, mashed my fingers into my pussy and did as I had been told. S murmured his approval and gently praised me for being such a pretty, dirty slut. I caught my breath and slid my hand over my newly reddened tushy to test the heat it was giving off.

J later told me that he has never spanked me that hard before. There is something to be said for divided attention.