Hello,
This happened about a year ago. I guess I should start by saying that I dated this girl for about 2 years in high school. We were really close, and were each others first everything. Unfortunately, we got accepted into different universities and had to move apart (about 2 hours away). We kept dating for about 6 months before breaking up from the long distance. We kept talking though pretty frequently online and were pretty open.
Over the next 6-7 years as we grew up we saw each other probably once a year, and would occasionally have sex if I played my cards right. She would always (sometimes not-so-subtly) hint that I wasn't very good, or basically act like she was throwing me a bone out of pity. She was really condescending about our hookups. But we were good friends and talked as equals about things other than sex.
Well about a year ago -- after having not seen each other for a long time -- I proposed that we hang out. I would drive to her town (about 150 miles), and we would hit some bike trails. I would stay for the weekend with her. She agreed quickly (she has always been eager to spend time with me as friends). I was excited because I had been working out a lot since she last saw me, and was looking pretty good. We were flirty about the trip. It was pretty clear that this whole trip was a guise for one of our rare hookups.
Since we had to work around schedules, it took about 2 months for the trip to actually happen. I was looking forward to it a lot. She still had a pretty hot tight body like she did in high school, and I couldn't wait to see her in her biker spandex all day, and then fuck her at night.
Well the weekend of the trip finally came. I drove up; it took about two hours. When I got there, she mentioned that her friend Mark that she just met had hit her up, and she invited him to come too. Fuck.
This dude was taller and better looking than me. I was disappointed because it made my body, that I was excited to show off, look less impressive by comparison. I wasn't intimidated though, because I was staying at her place no matter what -- and we had history. She was mine tonight. We rode some trails for a couple hours, and he was a great guy all day. Very friendly. I wasn't intimidated, and I treated her like my girl all day.
Well, after the trails, her and I went back to her place. Mark went home. Phew, finally some alone time. We showered (separately of course), and put on comfy clothes to hang out for the rest of the night. Just when I was about to try to make my move, she got the idea that she should call Mark to come drink with us. Fast forward an hour, and he's there, with liquor for all.
We drank and watched "cutthroat kitchen," told stories, and laughed for hours. Her and I sat next to each other on the couch, and were pretty touchy feely. I had her laughing all night -- I always knew what to say when I was with her. Around about 2am, we were all pretty tipsy, and she decided Mark was too drunk to drive. Well she only had one couch and a relatively small apartment. The next few seconds were a whirlwind to me as my whole plans for the weekend came crashing down. The sleeping arrangements were made casually, she decided Mark was "too tall for the couch"; Mark could share her bed, and I'd be on the couch. Foolishly, until this point, I hadn't even considered that she was into him until now. I'd known her for close to a decade, dated her for 2 years, lost my virginity to her (taken hers), talked with her endlessly, drove 150 miles to see her, had her laughing all night; He just met her and seemed pretty boring. I was sleeping on the couch; he was sharing her bed.
To make matters worse (or better); her bedroom didn't really have a door. It was a small 2 story apartment. Downstairs was the living room, and her bedroom was the entire second floor. You walked up the stairs, and you were in her room; no door. Very small place.
Well they walk up together, I say peace - not showing my disappointment. Inside my heart was racing. They were really going to share her bed together upstairs? While I'm here? I'm laying the couch thinking about how they wouldn't actually do anything up there. This apartment is so small, and her room doesn't have a door. That would be too awkward. She wouldn't do that.
The apartment is dead silent, and my thoughts are keeping me up. My mental rationalizing (she wouldn't do it, she wouldn't do it, it's too awkward, she knows I would hear), is interrupted by obvious kissing sounds. Fuck. Maybe it's not what I think? They continue on and off probably about five minutes. She keeps giggling noisily --- did she forget I'm here? Does she not care? Does she not understand how loud she is?
Eventually, her laughs turn more passionate, and the kissing dies down. There is no doubt to me at this point that they are being intimate. He is probably fingering her at this point. I know what's coming.
Soon enough, the inevitable bed creaking starts. Her "laughs" become so passionate that I can no longer deny that they are whimpers of pleasure. She is actually being fucked silly probably 15 feet away from me on the big weekend I had been looking forward to.
My cock gets hard. I start masturbating, making the best of it. I don't have to worry about keeping it down to be discrete. At this point, they are making so much fucking noise a car could crash through the bottom floor wall and they wouldn't notice.
I have never heard her make close to this much noise. She wants me to hear. I know it. This is another one of her not-so-subtle jabs at my masculinity. This is her coup de gras.
I cum in probably less than a minute because the situation is so hot to me. I lay awake listening to her moaning, and the bed which is rocking so hard above me it feels like it's moving the house. They seem to go on like this forever. Eventually, I fall asleep.
I wake up at about 7am to Mark leaving. I lay in bed pretending to be asleep; he doesn't acknowledge me probably because he doesn't want to "wake" me.
I fall back asleep until 10am, when her and I both wake up naturally.
I decide I'm going to pretend I didn't hear anything. Bury my head in the sand.
First thing she says to me after "good morning" is "hey sorry I hope we didn't keep you up last night." I'm like "hm? nah I slept fine" pretending I don't know what she's talking about.
She clearly doesn't believe me, saying "Wow, you must be a reaaaaally heavy sleeper" while laughing.
I just gave a confused look and ask what she wants to do for breakfast. She's smiling at me condescendingly while she answers. She is absolutely glowing. We both know that I know what happened. She fucked a better looking man passionately while I laid alone 15 feet away and did nothing about it. I had plans for the weekend; she did too.
In the end, she showed me who is boss. I wasn't going to acknowledge it, but her glowing mood, and my gloomy mood said enough. She won that weekend.
Gunner
