The Three-Man Weave - Sex Stories

The Three-Man Weave

... around and shuffled through my admittedly meager wardrobe selection and found another sort of loose, lacy black dress and showed it to him. “Oh yeah, let’s see that one.” So, once again, I undressed. Staring him in the face as his eyes wandered up and down my body, I unbuttoned my jeans and began pushing them down, then stepped out of them one by one and, again bending over in front of his, conscientiously folded them back up and put them in the drawer, then stood up again and again pulled this little dress over my head. The short sleeves were all lacy, the fabric felt silky and the very bottom of the dress was lace as well, about midway up my thigh. Once it was on, I did a little faux-curtsy and presented myself to him. “You know, Jordan, I could just sit here and watch you change all night. But damn, you look great in that and I’m hungry, so let’s go.” I considered the fact that in this dress, I could probably get away without wearing a bra, but there was no way in hell I was going anywhere without panties on, so I opened my top drawer, found a pretty little pair of delicate pink panties, and stepped into them and pulled them up quickly. “Okay, honey, you ready?” he asked. “Yeah, just let me brush my hair and put on some makeup and I’ll be good.” “Aw, girl, you ain’t need no makeup. Just run a brush through your hair and you good.” I stepped into the bathroom, looked in the mirror and decided that Malcolm’s compliment was on the money; I didn’t need makeup. I fixed my ...

... hair up right quick and out the door we went. Ten minutes later we were walking in the door of Pizza Pirate together. Pizza Pirate was an establishment in this college town. People went there before games, after games, when games were on, on weekend nights, on weekends days, hell, even on weekdays for lunch. It was a rare occasion when Pizza Pirate was not filled to the brim with college students, employees and just the local populace, and 8 p.m. on the night before Thanksgiving appeared to be no exception. And, as Malcolm and I walked in the door, it seemed to me like every eye in the place was on us as we walked over to the booth in the window where Darrel and D.J. already were. Sure, ninety-five percent of those eyes were focused on Malcolm, but I couldn’t help but think that there were a few people wonder who the hell I was. As we got to the booth, Darrel greeted me with a “Damn, girl! You sure clean up something nice!” That flattered me and put me immediately at ease around them. Malcolm let me slide into the booth first and he took the seat on the edge. Over the course of the hour or so we spent there, at least a dozen times somebody came up to our table and wanted to say hi to the guys from the team and maybe ask them for an autograph. And those dudes were so freaking polite and generous with their time. For every single person, they smiled and shook their hands and just were so professional, even if you could tell they were a little embarrassed. And, what’s more, every ...