This story is true, mostly. The people in it are not.
Jim Kemperer and I had a happy, sweaty, sticky Kit sandwiched between us.
I was behind her, my cock now pretty soft but still pressed firmly against the crease of her bottom, Jim in front. I had my face in Kit's hair and couldn't see anything, but I was pretty sure that even if Jim was soft he still had his cock shoved against her pussy. I know that's what I'd be doing.
It was one of the very last days of summer, late at night, near midnight and still hot, and the three of us were in the darkest part of the garden, right outside Kit's bedroom window.
Jim and I were 15 years old that summer. Kit, Jim's sister, was 16, and my sister, Samantha, was 14. I was staying overnight with Jim and Kit. Sam was over at Heather's house, and Professor and Mrs. Kemperer were gone for the weekend, so the three of us had the place to ourselves.
Jim and I were pretty sweaty and sticky, too. Just a few minutes before, I had eaten Kit, listening to her "yeah yeah yeah don't stop don't stop there there yeah there yes!" until she thrust up hard, tensed, and pushed my head away. Then I moved to the side to let Jim move between her spread thighs. He entered her, lifted her legs up and over his shoulders, and began slamming her while I kneeled beside Kit's head and she turned to take me in her mouth.
We were so worked up at that point it only took a few moments until Jim and I moved back, stroked ourselves once, twice, and covered her, Jim spurting all over Kit's tummy and pussy, me on her face and boobs. Then we collapsed on either side of her, panting. I couldn't see very well in the dark, but Kit seemed to be smiling.
We stayed that way for a little while, kind of dozing, feeling good. I was just starting to stiffen again, thinking about another round, trying to decide which would be more fun: fucking Kit, assuming of course that she was interested, or maybe seeing if she would let me come in her mouth this time, when Kit jumped up, stepped over to the side of the house, and grabbed the garden hose.
"Shit! Jim, move!"
We were up in a second, but it was too late. Kit twisted the faucet handle and sprayed us both, good. It didn't help that she was laughing while she did it, although it really was kind of funny.
"Christ, Kit, knock it off!"
Jim was practically yelling, but I was pretty sure he wasn't serious. The water was cold, yes, but we were overheated and it felt really good. Jim and I didn't try too hard to get away.
We did, however, attack Kit from both sides. I grabbed the hose and sprayed her point-blank, moving it up and down, washing the sticky off her. Kit jumped at first, then relaxed and turned in the spray, letting me cover her front and back. I used one hand to help rinse her off. She liked that, to judge by the way she pressed against me, and I stiffened some more.
I handed the hose back to Kit, and she used it to wash me down as I followed her example, feeling the cold water all over as I turned. Then she turned the spray on Jim while he slowly turned around, too.
I'll admit it. I watched his half-hard cock as he turned. Then I watched his ass. We were both in pretty good shape, and I knew Sam liked his ass. I could see why.
I was remembering the overnight last summer when Kit made Jim and me jack each other. It had startled me at first, but once I had my hand around Jim I really liked the feeling. I liked having his hand on me, too. We hadn't repeated that, exactly, but earlier this summer we'd come close a few times when playing with Kit and Sam.
What was this? Did I like boys more than girls? I didn't think so, but my cock kept getting harder even so. Didn't matter. I stepped up behind Jim, wondering what the hell I was doing, but I did it anyway. One hand on his hip, reached around with the other to hold his dick.
Kit was watching, smiling.
"Rub him. Stroke him."
As she spoke, Kit put the hose down, moved her hands to her breasts, and ran her fingers over her breasts and nipples lightly.
Jim turned his head a little. Grinned. He was almost fully erect now and I stroked firmly, starting just under the head where I knew I liked it. Jim pushed himself against my palm.
I moved closer, completely hard now myself, and pressed into the crease of Jim's bottom. Jim leaned back and I moved my cock a little against his warm butt. No interest in actually getting inside him, yuck, but skin is skin and his was smooth and warm, if still a little wet. Kept stroking him.
We watched Kit as she tweaked her nipples, then dropped one hand to her pussy, pressed against her fur, then lower, fingers moving up and down. Too dark to see for sure, but her mouth was open, and I think she was breathing a little faster.
Grunt or two from Jim. I was stroking more firmly now, keeping up a good rhythm, not rushing, but letting my hand encircle him as I moved. Moved my other hand from his hip to cradle his balls gently, then back to his hip to pull him against me as I kept moving my cock against his bottom. Felt myself getting closer.
Kit, pinching a nipple, fingers busy at the top of her pussy, pressing, stroking, circling. Now I could hear her panting and grunting. Same from Jim.
Jim thrust against my hand and began to pulse and throb. I milked him as he sprayed, holding his hip with my other hand and sliding myself faster and faster against his bottom. In a second, as Jim quieted, I came, spurting and covering his rear end and myself.
We swayed together for a second, then separated, each with a hand on his own cock, going for that final delicious spasm. Watching Kit, one hand busy between her legs, the other pulling at her breast, pressing and tweaking the nipple. In a moment I heard her grunt and squeak and she was there, too.
Another round with the hose, and we were drippy and relaxed when we ended up back on our towels, Kit again in the middle.
Jim and me queer? No. Horny, yes. Radar operating at full capacity in every direction looking for skin to touch. We had been buddies since first grade. We knew just about everything about each other, at least I thought we did.
Look, it was fun, it made us feel good, and our parents had taught us that anything done willingly was OK. No taking advantage of someone drunk or incapacitated or too young to understand what was going on, blah blah blah. And there was that thing about common sense, too, I remembered.
Well, to tell you the truth, I doubt our parents had thought about what was going on now, especially something like tonight, although later when I was in college Sam and I found out that maybe Mom wouldn't have been too surprised even at this.
I wasn't so sure about Professor and Mrs. Kemperer. There were hints that they had a bit of a different view about sex and kids, like maybe they did know what we might be up to. Anyway, it was all new to us. We were making each other feel good, and that's all we cared about.