The Scent of Sandalwood
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In his novel “I Will Fear No Evil,” One of Heinlein’s female characters remarks that, until a woman has been in bed with two men who love and trust one another as much as they love and trust her, she’s still got “One virginity to go, and an important one.” When I first read this as a teenager, I felt a visceral response. Yes, I thought to myself with deep conviction, that’s for me!
Such a configuration as far more difficult to arrange than you might think. In my earlier sexual life, I engaged in some risky experiments, some of which blew up in horrible ways, and others that were exciting, but never entirely complete. One of the best things about being in my 30’s is that I’ve learned patience. If you keep your goals intact, make the right choices and wait, a lot of things will eventually fall together the way you want them to. This happened for me last year.
My partner Brian and I have a committed and loving relationship, but we’ve never tried to own each other. Many years ago, we worked out the parameters of an open (polyamorous) relationship. Our arrangement works well, and it’s one of the parts of my life I’m most grateful for.
Around five years ago, I began a relationship with a man named J. He’s part of a community of friends that Brian and I were both socializing with a lot at that time, and while J and I were getting to know one another sexually and in other ways, he and my partner (DL) found common interests, and began spending time together too. They would go running or rollerblading together, and when J came to our place, he was as likely to spend the evening chatting with Brian as with me.
Their friendship made me happy, and I began planting the seeds of a threesome with Brian. Brian isn’t homophobic, but he’s more private about his sexuality than I am. It took some months of occasional, gentle but un-subtle hints, combined with really tight finances last Christmas, but in early January, I was given an absolutely unforgettable Christmas gift.
My first hint was that, though Brian and J would often chat for long periods on the phone when J called, these chats began to be conducted behind a closed door at our place. I smiled and bided my time. They did whatever negotiating they needed to do, and, in early January, the date was made. I approached it with great excitement, and only a little nervousness. Such events are by nature volatile, but I’m not 18, and I’ve been around. So have my partners.
I tell Brian how flattered he should be that my lovers of choice often share his body type, medium height, a muscular but slighter than average build, agile, and with good hands. All three of us were runners at that time, but J was making the transition to serious yoga, a shift that was offering some fascinating novelty in our love-making. As I lay on my back in the middle of the bed, a beautiful sweet man on either side, I couldn’t help congratulating myself on my good fortune.
When giving J my customary hello hug, I’d noticed a mild, elusive but distinct fragrance. I knew he wasn’t the cologne type, and I wondered what it was. Only much later did I discover that it was the smell of sandalwood, and it was coming from beads he wore around his neck and that he had steeped in the oil. I was unfamiliar with the scent, and found it evocative, pleasing, faintly sweet but not at all feminine. It hovered tantalizingly around him as the three of us lay together talking softly.
The love and friendship that already existed between us drained away the awkwardness I had half expected to feel. As the light conversation died away and their caressing hands became more intent, I felt my own excitement rise. I trusted both of them to treat me and each other with love, respect and maturity. The apprehension I had always felt at the beginning of any threesome was entirely absent. I was confident, trusting, and filled only with love, gratitude and happy anticipation.
Being caressed lovingly and sensually by more than two hands is almost dizzyingly stimulating. Being made love two by two beautiful men intent on pleasing you is nearly indescribable. Being fucked in turn by two men who love you, who trust one another, and who aren’t afraid of each other is an experience of the kind to make you bight down on your pillow and feel as though you might fly apart!
Still slightly cautious at the beginning, I turned on to my right side toward Brian first, and began kissing him while J continued to run his slow hands down my back and side. I love kissing, and of ankara escort course both of my lovers knew how much. Brian gave his attention to kissing me in just the way I like, focussed, slow, intense, deliberate. He did it in just the way that makes my centre expand and my legs open of their own will.
While J continued stroking my back, Brian reached for my breast and began squeezing and massaging. He has a deep and abiding fondness for my tits, and I can always get a physical response from him no matter what. He assures me that he’d love them even if they were small, but, as with other things, size is relevant.
I went on to my back again so that Brian could engage in one of his favourite pursuits, kissing and sucking on my nipples. I absolutely love the feel of his long hair falling around his face and on to my skin when he does this. I ran the fingers of my right hand through it while with my left, I reached for J and pulled him closer, inhaling the faint scent of sandalwood as I began kissing him. Our tastes in kissing match beautifully, and we sometimes stay pressed together at the lips, barely moving for indefinable stretches of time in which it might appear that nothing’s happening, but which, in fact, are quietly volcanic. J got rid of his dreads around the time we met, in the interests of job search. This was all right by me as, while I like long hair on a man, dreads aren’t really my thing.
I reached down with my right hand to find, not to my surprise, but to my enduring delight, that Brian was hard as a rock. His penis is an unfailing source of wonder and pleasure to me. You’d think after 15 years together the novelty would have warn off, but I still experience it as exotic, exciting and perfectly proportioned. It felt so cute in fact, that I abandoned the tectonic effects of kissing J, to shift down and take Brian’s sweet hardness in my mouth.
One of the nice parts of having more than one lover is that you’re continually reminded that men have different tastes. Just as Brian is perpetually devoted to my breasts, so J is drawn to my hips and thighs. As my enthusiasm for pleasing Brian grew, along with his eagerness to be pleased, I moved around and up on to my knees so that I could push Brian on to his back and give him the kind of attention such a pretty penis deserves.
Easily, with his accustomed unhurried grace, J stroked my hips and thighs, his touch becoming more firm as he progressed patiently up toward my definitely moistened centre. After a time, he was sliding a finger inside me in the same rhythm with which Brian’s cock was sliding in and out of my mouth. Feeling as though I wanted everything at once, I turned myself so that I could give the same attention to J that Brian had been getting. I was equally unsurprised but delighted to find him fully ready for me. He lay on his side, and I lay on mine facing him, taking him slowly between my lips, stroking his hard shaft with my tongue, gently tickling his balls with my fingers.
Brian turned behind me so that his head was toward my feet and began teasing my clit with his fingers. J caressed my head lovingly as I sucked him, while Brian ran discriminating fingertips along the smooth folds of my shaved vulva. He loves the look and feel of shaven pussy, and I’ve learned that indulging his preference brings its own rewards. I reached back one hand to touch him, a loving touch more than a sexual one, and he clasped my hand briefly in affectionate understanding.
My own excitement was rising strongly. I was roused by the touch, feel, scent, sounds, nearness and attention of two horney beautiful men, reassured by their loving tenderness, stimulated by the increasingly demanding feel of their hands on my body.
Brian and I use condoms for birth control, so penetration is rarely utterly spontaneous. As it happened, this night fell in that lovely but brief few days between bleeding and potential ovulation. Of course I knew this, but in the moment, I had forgotten it. Perhaps I was distracted by J’s notable endowment between my lips, but Brian can move with cat-like grace. Before I realized that he had moved, he was positioned between my legs, and, with a touch at once tender and authoritative, he pushed my right knee open and bent over me. His push had nudged me on to my back and, before I knew what he was about, he had thrust powerfully inside me. Preoccupied as I had been, and unaccustomed as I was to impulsive penetration, the swiftness of his action was breath-taking, ankara escort bayan startling, and utterly overwhelming.
I’ll never know whether it is from long associations of pleasure, whether one’s body becomes shaped to that of one’s lover over time, or whether Brian really does have a remarkable penis, but he can reach me, please me in a way almost entirely unique. It’s as much about shape and contour as it is about size, maybe more.
Excited as I was, the sudden penetration claimed me utterly. Helpless, I let go of J and lifted my hands over my head to brace myself against the wall as he drove into me repeatedly, hard and deep, filling me perfectly. For the first time that night, but by no means the last, I grabbed a feather pillow and put it over my face. We were sharing our house at that time, and the bedroom wall adjoined a neighbour’s house. Privacy from prying neighbours required discretion. My gasps and breathy cries had given way to something closer to growling sobs, flattering to a lover, but no business of outsiders.
When I recovered sufficiently from the initial, all-consuming response to that gorgeous fucking, I was able to reach out my left hand to J. Recognizing my state, he asked for nothing, but merely held my hand, not resisting when I gripped him with the desperate strength of one awash in ecstatic energy. When Brian finally slowed his rhythm and I was able to take a proper breath, J stroked my forehead and made inarticulate sounds of approval.
After an indefinable time, Brian slid out of me and lay back to rest. Filled with gratitude and reciprocal generosity, I knelt up to hover over him and kiss his face, his chest, the light thatch of sweetly fragrant hair below his belly button, then his hard cock, redolent with my own taste.
Not entirely selfless, I’d been careful not to straddle Brian, but to keep my hips accessible, and J was not one to pass up such an offering. After seeing diligently to protection, I felt him kneel behind me and begin to press the tip of his cock between my ready lips. As I took Brian once more into my mouth, J began a slow-motion entry that was a dazzling counterpoint to the first penetration.
I mentioned earlier that J was becoming absorbed with the practice of yoga. This interest would lead him to abandon running and pursue yoga till he was one of those guys who can stand on his head and do strange poses in a sauna without passing out (as I myself would certainly do.) He sometimes talked about “energy,” moving flowing etc, language that I couldn’t really relate to directly, but that seemed sometimes to play itself out in sex: or maybe it’s just that he’s got moves I’ve never encountered before. Whatever the reason, that guy can do things in my vagina that I can’t explain. When he’s slow and deliberate, it’s as though his penis has tiny little tentacle extensions that stretch themselves briefly, then retract, only to wiggle out again somewhere else. The affect is to make me feel like I’m being gently probed and filled in places I didn’t know I was empty; it’s inexplicable and extraordinary. I’d felt it with him before, but I’d never been as excited before, so never experienced it as intensely.
After a time he began to speed up, and I became incapable of concentrating on two things at once. I let Brian’s cock slide out of my mouth and simply clasped my arms around his hips, buried my face against him and held on.
Being fucked from behind is a position I especially like. There’s something raw, anonymous, completely absorbing about it. When you’re face to face, there are usually multiple kinds of interactions happening. When you’re having sex from behind, you’re just having sex. It’s all about the vagina and the penis. If I ever find myself having sex for reasons other than desire or pleasure it’s a bad position. When I’m brimming with desire and pleasure as I was then, it’s mind-numbing in the best sense of that phrase. The universe got very small, defined by the parameters of our three bodies, held together by the places where our skin touched, made coherent by the bonds of pleasure and emotion that bound us. This is how it was for me at any rate. Admittedly, the event was staged for my pleasure, so perhaps I got the best of it.
When J finally began to slow his rhythm and I was able to unclench my teeth from the quilt, I re-applied myself to pleasing Brian with lips and tongue. When J pulled out and lay down to rest however, I couldn’t help myself and climbed astride escort ankara him, taking him inside me once more. He moved his hips with me, thrusting upwards. Pulling out another yoga special, he kept his hips and shoulders on the bed while detaching his mid-back from it so that I could put my arms around his torso. This agility gave me thrusting leverage I’d never experienced before, and allowed him to reach inside me in yet another new way. I shifted from kneeling to squatting, taking my weight on my feet rather than my knees, and giving me more range. I’m not a yogini however, and even my runner’s thighs were no match for his stamina.
When at last, exhausted, I flopped on to my back, Brian was there and ready. He moved in a relaxed way into one of our favourite positions, me on my back and him on his side, our bodies making a cross or X. After a sweet slow time of being caressed by J and fucked gently by my sweetie, I caught my breath and my excitement rose to a peek once more. I urged Brian up on to his knees between my legs. His excitement was high too, and he pushed my legs on to his shoulders and, as I had done earlier, took his weight on his feet in a squat. J lay beside me and I embraced him with my upper body while Brian pleased me, and took his pleasure of me. I held on hard to J, clasping him convulsively as my entire body participated actively in the glorious fucking. My gasps and cries of pleasure were muffled as I buried my face against his shoulder and inhaled once more the odour of sandalwood. I had a deep curiosity about how this felt for them: a passionate, receptive female, ready for the roughest or gentlest from both of them.
After a time of wonderfully relentless rhythm, Brian’s orgasm came. His movements slowed, attenuated, became hovering, almost suspended in the way I knew so well. Less expressive (in the way of most men) he let out a restrained but visceral moan which I felt in my guts. Feeling smug and glad, I pulled him down on top of me and kissed his cheek with fervour before he rolled gently away to lie beside me. J complimented him on his stamina and energy. Brian’s response was modest, but I knew he was pleased.
It was J’s turn. He urged me back on to my knees and entered me once more, though less artfully than before. He didn’t speak to ask permission and, while I knew I could choose, his wordless urgent demand spoke to my deepest feminine self. I felt surrounded, enfolded, immersed in pure masculine energy, in raw male desire. I was bathed in sweat, panting unrestrainedly, completely consumed by sexual force. My consciousness was at once heightened and defused. It felt like being high on a strong drug like mushrooms or cocaine, that potent abandon, like I could do anything…. I had exerted myself a lot, but, though I knew I would be weary later, I felt indefatigable, strong, powerful, intensely female. I held on to the bed with both hands, and gave J force for force, thrust for thrust, strength for strength. Being fucked from behind looks like and often is a passive position, but that perception can be deceptive. As he thrust powerfully into me, I met him as an equal with my entire strength.
His orgasm shuddered through his entire body, and lasted a long time. His vocalization was slightly fuller in his own way, and I drank it in with deep satisfaction. Though commonly multiply orgasmic, I felt no inclination towards orgasm myself that night. The excitement and satisfaction I felt were somehow out of the range of orgasm and I didn’t miss them. Even while I was experiencing the overwhelming sensations of that night, I knew that detail would go from me quickly unless I wrote down my impressions soon. The night had a timeless, magical feeling that set it apart.
For a long time, I lay on my back between them, clasping them convulsively to me with an extremity that was not only sexual. Surrounded by their lustful protective maleness, I felt profoundly female, boundlessly fortunate. When it works, being with two men isn’t just twice as good, it’s something absolutely special, magical. Biology doesn’t require more than two people for heterosexual sex, but the female part of my most primeval self revelled in being with two men. Evolutionary biology teaches about sperm wars. I’m certain there’s a female corollary to that idea, something that drives us (well me at least) to seek out multiple partners, particularly ones who cooperate with one another.)
For hours after, my consciousness remained as though drugged, at once tranquilized and euphoric. Much later that night when J had gone and I was finally ready to sleep, I found that the scent of sandalwood clung faintly to my pillow. For many days after, I would catch the occasional whiff unexpectedly, and my entire body would smile in remembered pleasure.
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