Shagged out

I left Brighton early on Sunday evening after spending an obscene amount of time doing obscene things with Lora and Charlie. Having heard about the all-girl party they’d attended I couldn't help but feel that I needed to catch up with my colleague in terms of some of the things she’d experienced and I hadn’t. Not least amongst those things was the whole strap-on thing.

During the morning and afternoon the three of us took turns in every possible combination and I say with my hand on my heart that, unlike at Christmas, it’s far better to receive than to give. It feels wonderful to get fucked by a girl. The thrusts are awesome, the knowledge that the movement is backed by her body weight feels wonderful. As I lay face down on Lora’s bed with my arse in the air and the dildo deep in my cunt, with the movement of the redhead forcing my face against my colleague’s pussy, I thought I’d arrived in Lesbo Heaven. When we swapped and I took my turn behind Charlie, although I knew and loved that I was giving her similar enjoyment, for me it was all purely psychological pleasure. Don’t get me wrong. I’d be perfectly happy to do it all again and again, but there’s not the physical stimulation for the fucker as for the fuckee and it feels a little one sided. (We were probably using the wrong toy. I shall have to investigate further strap-on options in the near future).

I took Monday off. I realised when my alarm went off that I was exhausted by my day in bed with the girls. I was both literally and figuratively “shagged out”. So I called in sick, telling the HR department that I suspected that I had the unspecified, ‘flu type virus that had earlier stricken Lora.

She made it into work and she called me mid-morning and after I’d reassured her that I was basically fine but worn out, I complimented her on her amazing stamina. I honestly don’t think that I could repeat that every night.