Previously: Part 1
The girls openly talked about leaving the club and going somewhere else. I said, “How about we all go to my place for a drink or a cup of tea?”
“Where do you live?” Beata asked.
“Down the street, about three minutes away.” It was more like six minutes but I doubted they’d time it. When rolling solo, logistics is my wingman.
“Wow that’s close! Yeah let’s go to your place.”
The hard part was corralling them because drunk guys kept putting in their attempt as we made our way to the coat check and then out the door. I didn’t want to be too pushy and seem needy but I didn’t want to give horny drunk guys free reign to spit their game. It didn’t help that Beata stopped to have a conversation with not one but two of the bouncers. I wondered if she was a slut or club whore, but I knew I’d find out soon enough.
Once out on the street, I had to deal with one last guy who wouldn’t leave us alone. I asked him where he lived, and when he pointed in the opposite direction, I stuck out my hand and wished him a good night. He walked away. I didn’t consider incorporating him into the plan—there was absolutely no way I’d let a strange drunk man, whose wingman credentials have not at all been proven, enter my apartment. I’d succeed or fail alone.
While walking home with the two girls, I imagined that four possibilities were in store for me: I’d bang both (10% chance), I’d bang Beata (50% chance), I’d bang the friend (15% chance), or I’d bang neither (25% chance). Only one of those outcomes were unfavorable, and I decided to do everything I could to fuck, even if it meant staying up all night to entertain the girls and using all manner of psychological manipulation and trickery.
Once in my apartment, Beata asked to take a shower to wash the beer that was spilled earlier on her hair. I gave her a change of clothes and directed her to the shower.
When I moved into my apartment, there was no shower curtain or way to install one, so I had to make a custom frame using PVC pipe I bought from the hardware store. It worked to keep water out but was quite unstable, so I wasn’t surprised to hear a crash and thud a few minutes into her shower. Her friend went to investigate and for the next ten minutes all I could hear was laughter and shrieking. I later learned that the friend gave Beata a bath and helped her dress afterwards, as if she was her mother. I was deeply touched by the friend’s nurturing side, but my boner didn’t appreciate it.
When Beata came out in my t-shirt and boxers, I looked into the bathroom to find it demolished. Water was everywhere, random bathroom accessories were thrown about, and the shower curtain was splayed across the floor with piping laying in many directions. Beata apologized profusely for the mess and I told her not to worry about it while I mopped up the floor and repaired the pipes. As long as neither girl vomited, I was ready to tolerate further destruction. I also noticed that Beata had somehow managed to break my comb in half. I held the two pieces in my hand and asked, “Were you hungry?” The girls laughed. I ensured the mood always stayed light.
The friend was next to take a shower. While she was in the bathroom, I sat Beata on the ledge of my window and stood in front of her, holding her legs up. There was no resistance when going for the kiss and she apologized for breaking my comb. You wouldn’t have been able to know that my cock was injured by the full power it was displaying in desire for this 19-year-old beauty. Would the friend let me bang Beata or would this be a frustrating night of not being sexually satisfied in spite of having two pretty girls in my pad? I was now so backed up from the lack of morning sex and the double grind session that I would have stuck my dick in a hole in the wall without knowing who or what was on the other side if it meant some type of spermal release.
The friend came out and Beata went back to the bathroom to moisturize. “I’m glad you don’t live in the city,” I told the friend, “because both of you are nice and pretty. It would have been impossible to make a decision on which one of you I like most.”
She smiled. I could tell she felt validated by my statement, as if thinking, “I’m just as desirable as my friend!” My goal was to reduce her jealousy and it seemed to work, but I knew there was a possibility for that to backfire.
For the next twenty minutes, the girls recounted the bathroom incident and random events of the night. I found it strange how they would make a big deal at the smallest incidents that happened to them, things that I would have barely noticed. I looked at the clock and it was 5am.
I said, “I’d sleep on the couch but I’m too tall. One of you can share my bed since it’s big.” They talked about it for a minute in Polish and it was agreed that Beata would sleep with me. The friend had no objection to the couch and wished us a good night.
Beata was already in bed when I slipped underneath the covers wearing only my boxers. She straightened her legs so that I could press my body against hers. She was obviously not tired and kissed me with urgency. I removed the boxers she was wearing and then tried for her panties, but it was too quick and so she denied me. I moved to her neck and breasts and tried again five minutes later, but I received another no.
Not at all frustrated, I later tried another tack by placing her on top of me and letting her ride my cock to simulate the pleasure she would receive if we were naked. This did the trick and the panties came off. I got a condom and carefully placed it over my injured cock as if it was an overly ripe banana. Then I fucked her like an ostrich for the next ten minutes. She made no attempt to quiet her moans. It turned me on to know that her friend, only fifteen feet away, could hear everything.
Round two was even more intense. Beata instructed me to “dominate” her and so I did. With her on her stomach and me mounting her from behind, I pulled her hair so hard that her upper torso went far back enough to place her into an advanced yoga position. I couldn’t imagine how that could feel good for her but she loved it and moaned for more. I flipped her this way and that like a sex doll to the positions I liked and gave it to her as hard as I could, trying to put in a good showing for older men like me everywhere.
Perhaps due to the injury of my cock or the fact that I had two orgasms the day before, I could not ejaculate a second time and gave up when I was too tired to proceed. We went to sleep.
I made tea for the girls the next morning. They gave a full recounting of the night, erupting in hysterical laughter when it came time to discuss what happened in the bathroom. I feigned interest but was too out of it to share their joy at having a fun night, one that would make up the highlight reel of their youth when they were older and settled, with Beata remembering getting fucked by a Yeti man 16 years her senior and her friend remembering the sounds of that fucking as if she was right there on the bed.
It came out that Beata had just broken up with her boyfriend two days before. No first breakup is final so I knew that she was in a transition stage instead of totally wanting a new cock to replace the old. This explained her slight coolness to me in the morning where she did not touch me once, and if I forgot to get her number she probably wouldn’t have prompted me to do so like the blonde with the penis-destroying dress. I mentally accepted that this would probably not result in a repeat bang, and I didn’t mind one bit.
Out of all the men who wanted to bang her but didn’t, I count my blessings that I was able to have one night of intense pleasure with such a young girl, and how ignoring her desire for a “serious relationship” was essential to go from being flaked on or forgotten to absolutely destroying the pussy as if it was my last fuck on Earth. A night like this once in a while, with the occasional callback from a girl who wants a second round, is more than enough to keep my content in my relations with women. For now.
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