Speaker 1: Hello, My love Lies, I'm Roxy Callahan and welcome to
My Erotic Whispers, the podcast where we celebrate all kinds
of relationships featuring women claiming their sexual joy, from one
night stands to long term couples. Women deserve to be
sexually empowered to claim their desire and their pleasure however
they want. This week's episode is about just that Megan
Glenn had waited ten years to fulfill their desire. But
then it goes sideways. But Meg isn't about being a victim,
and she takes control in the most empowering and provocative
way possible. This week's episode is narrated and stars Nicole.
Nicole is assisted by the wonderful Adam and Sean and finally,
please note this podcast is intended for adult listeners.
Speaker 2: I didn't mean to fuck every guy in our college
singing group reunion, but they didn't give me much choice. Sorry,
I'm getting ahead myself. Back in college, we had a
well respected a cappella singing group called the Oak Tree Singers.
I took part my junior and senior year, and in
both years I was the only woman in the group.
I'm not sure why. Historically, the group of six was
split evenly between three women and three men, but for
one reason or another, auditions for the other women just
didn't pan out those two years. So we're all forny
and young and pretty good looking, and we have a
fall and spring tour where we're in hotel rooms for
a few weekends. Despite that, none of us slept with
each other, or should I say none of them slept
with me. Now, I had a boyfriend at the time,
so this wasn't a big source of tension, but I
had to admit that the guys were cute, and I
may have masterbated about each of them at one point
or another, maybe more often than that, but hey, I
was in college. Jerking off to your classmates is a tradition.
After graduation, we all went in our separate ways. I
connected with Kevin on Facebook, but we did little more
than comment on college alumni events the occasional. Like the
other four guys did their own thing. And then one day,
six months ago, I get a friend request from Glenn.
Glenn was the best singer and was our de facto leader.
I accepted the friend request and he asked aby getting
together for a ten year reunion in Chicago. I had
just broken up with my boyfriend of four years, and
I was kind of aimless, so I enthusiastically replied, Yes,
it would be great to hang with the guys again.
I told him I couldn't stop thinking about the guys
that night, especially Glenn, the group member I was closest
to and the one I had almost cheated on my
boyfriend with. He was so cute, and we were drinking
on the road on our Friday night in Well. We
kissed and had our hands on parts of our body
before I realized two things. I loved him touching me,
and I didn't want to be a cheater. What would
he be like? I remembered his hands. He just slid
his hand down my panties, finding me so wet that
his fingers slid easily into me. And at the time,
that's what perhaps scared me the most. I had never
been that wet for my boyfriend that fast. I thought
over the moment as I crawled into bed, I replicated
his touch with my own fingers, as I closed my
eyes and imagined his intense brown eyes. Yes, his fingers
were so soft and like soft electric shocks of pleasure.
Before I knew it was happening. I was furiously stroking
my clip and imagining an older Glenn fingering me at
our reunion. My orgasm was a slow and intense build
that ended with ME picturing Glenn's face as I stroked
his dick and he stroked my clip. I could practically
feel his cum flowing onto my fingers as I squirted
into my palm. The Chicago weather was wonderful, and we
all met for a cocktail party that the college graciously
offered the host. That meant it was a mini reunion,
and we celebrated and had fun with other classmates and
our former professors. The party swirled around us in a
blur of polite laughter and clinking glasses. I'd made the rounds,
shared awkward hugs with former classmates whose names I barely remembered,
and listened to professors drilled on about their latest publications.
I focus kept returning to Colen. Ten years had sharpened him,
carving away the last of his boyish softness. He wore
a tailor charcoal suit that made his shoulders look impossibly broad,
and the laugh lines around his eyes only made him hotter.
We'd been circling each other all night, and now as
the crowd thinned and the rented bartenders began polishing glasses,
we found ourselves alone near the Florida ceiling windows, overlooking
the Chicago skyline. We were both on our third glass
of champagne, and the bubbles had gone straight to my head,
loosting a screw somewhere in the part of my brain
that handles self preservation. You know, the words felt reckless
on my tongue. I was so f fucking stupid in college.
Then turned from the window, a slow, handsome smile spreading
across his face. Oh yeah, how so that night on
the spring tour in Columbus, I didn't have to say more.
I saw the memory flash in his eyes, the cheap motel,
the shared bottle of whiskey, the way his hands felt
tangled in my hair. I wish I hadn't stopped you us.
I've regretted that for ten years. I let out a short,
sharp laugh, trying to cover the raw honesty of the
admission so many regrets. He took a step closer, the
space between us suddenly electric. The professional charm he worn
all night melted away, replaced by the intense focus I
remembered from when he was leading us through a difficult harmony.
Speaker 3: It's not too late to fix a few regrets. Meg.
Speaker 2: His voice vibrated straight through me. He held out his hand.
I took it without a second thought. He led me
through a glass door I had noticed, out onto a
small private balcony. The cool night air hit my skin,
a welcome shock after the stuffy party below us. The
city was a glittering tapestry of lights and motion. He
didn't let go of my hand. He just stood behind me,
his chest a warm, solid presence against my back as
we looked out at the view. I broke the silence
with a simple question, what did you like about back then?
Speaker 3: I like the way your eyes focused on some point
in the distance where you hit some beautiful note, like
you were canvassing the universe for the perfect phrasing and tone.
Speaker 2: His free hand came up to rest on my hip.
Speaker 3: And then you would, and your voice would give me goosebumps.
Speaker 2: He had never said anything nice about my singing voice,
and now this amazing singer was describing my voice in
such a beautiful way. I leaned into his hand, pulling
myself closer to him.
Speaker 3: And I loved watching you from across the stage, the
way your whole body moved with the music. You were
so alive, and I wanted to fuck you so badly
it hurt.
Speaker 2: I love the way you'd look at me when you
thought I wasn't watching. I turned to face him. I
wanted to feel your hands all over me, as if
on cue. I took his hand from my hip and
slid it down over the silk of my cocktail dress
and pressed his palm flat against my pussy. He sucked
in his sharp breath like this, his fingers flexed against me,
exactly like that. I reached for the front of his trousers,
my own fingers finding the hargridge of his cock through
the expensive wool. He was already stick and straining with
trembling fingers. I undid his button and pulled down his zipper,
my hand diving into the sudden heat and wrapping around
the smooth, hot skin of his cock. He mirrored my action,
his hands slipping up the inside of my thigh, his
fingers pushing aside the thin lace of my panties. He
found me slip and ready, his thumb immediately finding my clit.
I gasped my hips, pushing instinctively into his touch careful,
A jolt of pleasure shot through me. I had to
lift my dress, bunching the silk in my free hand
to give him better access. I couldn't help but laugh.
It was so ridiculous, A thing that so many guys
felt was hot, was a real pain in the ass
in public. Because I'm a squirter, I make a real mess.
His response confused me. He laughed a deep, hearty laugh
that was full of a kind joy. But still it
made me wonder. But then he made me shiver by
pushing two fingers deep inside me, his thumb rubbing hard,
insistent circles on my clit. What's so funny? I gasped,
as his fingers did magic on my clit and in
my pussy. I make a mess, too, he suddenly groaned
as my hand worked his cock, slotting up and down
his hard.
Speaker 3: Length, Because I come like a geyser.
Speaker 2: A thought of it, of both of us just losing
control right there on the balcony. His cum boring over
my hand while I squirted into his palm was all
it took. I felt the telltale clench deep inside me.
Oh fuck, Glenn, I'm going to my orgasm. Hit me
like a lightning strike, and a hot, sudden gush of
my fluid soaked his hand and wrist, splashing onto the
cool stone of the balcony floor. The sight of it,
the sheer abandoned, sent him over the edge with a groan.
His own hot, thick cum shot out jet after jet,
covering my hand, my wrist, and because I was too
dumb to take his warning, the front of my now
ruined dress. The next day, the six of us met
for a private brunch other Sheik Little spot downtown. The
laughter from the night before still seemed to be buzzing
under my skin, a warm, secret hum I felt a
proprietary thrill watching Glen across the table. He was mine,
at least for a moment, But as the mimosas flowed,
I saw him lean in whispering to Kevin and Will,
and then they all burst out laughing, glancing over at me.
My stomach dropped. It was a classic boys club huddle,
and the look on their faces was unmistakable. He told them.
The warm buzz I'd been feeling turned into a cold,
sharp spike of humiliation. That moment on the balcony had
been hours a spontaneous, joyful messy explosion of a decade's
worth of tension, and he had turned it into locker
room gossip. I waited for a lull in the conversation,
and then fixed my gaze on him. Did you have
a good morning, Glenn? Catching everyone up on your exciting evening?
Are we? The table went quiet. Glenn had the decency
to look abashed, a flush creeping.
Speaker 4: Up his neck.
Speaker 3: Meg, Come on, it wasn't like.
Speaker 2: That, wasn't it. My voice was colder and angrier than
I intended.
Speaker 1: Look, he was just telling us how amazing you were.
Speaker 2: Teaven chimed in, clumsily, trying to smooth things over.
Speaker 5: Honestly, girls who squired are fucking hot. The words hung
in the air, a confirmation of my worst fear. My
private pleasure was now a topic for public consumption. The
teasing may have been good natured, but it felt like
a violation. My eyes welled up with hot, angry tears.
I pushed my chair back abruptly, the licks scraping against
the floor.
Speaker 2: I have to go. I turned and rushed out of
the restaurant before any of them could see me cry.
I'd made it about a block, my angry strides eating
up the pavement. When a hand gently touched my arm.
I turned the yell at Glen, but it was Will.
Of the group, he was the only one who hadn't
been laughing.
Speaker 4: Hey, that was a shitty thing for him to do
for all of us. I'm sorry.
Speaker 2: I wiped up my eyes, feeling a fresh wave of embarrassment.
It's fine, No, it's not. His expression was so kind.
Speaker 4: Wasn't fair of Glenn to share that you two hooked up?
But then he had to lie with the story about
you being a geyser. I stopped and looked at him,
really looked at him. The hurt in my chest began
to morph into something else and defiant, reckless heat.
Speaker 1: A lie.
Speaker 2: They thought he was lying to brag an idea wild
and powerful took greed in my mind. This was how
I would take my power back. Will I have to
tell you? Oh, I'm a geyser, all right. A wicked
smile spread across my face. I saw the surprise and
flicker of lust in Will's eyes. I took a step
closer to him, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
Do you want to experience it? He swallowed hard, his
eyes wide with a mixture of shock and thrilled anticipation.
Speaker 4: Are you serious?
Speaker 2: Deadly serious? Glenn got in on it his hand. Why
don't you fuck me? And then you can feel me
squirt all over your cock? But walked to his hotel
room was a blur of electric tension. The moment the
door clicked shut behind us, he pressed me against it,
his mouth coming hard down on mine. It was a desperate,
hungry kiss, and I met him with equal force, my
hands tearing at his shirt. There was no still of
build up, no gentle seduction, no ten years of suppressed desire.
This was raw, impulsive and exactly what I needed. He
broke the kiss to rip his pants down, his cock
springing free, already hard and thick. He pushed me back
against the door, lifting my dress with one hand and
hiking my leg up onto his hip. This was angry sex,
and it made me stopping wet. He slid inside me
in a deep thrust, and I tore a gasp from
my throat. He sucked me right there against the door,
his rhythm hard and fast and unrelenting. I had never
had a man last as long as he did. My
org as built slowly, inching me closer as the friction
and heat just grew and grew as he pounded me.
He was claiming me, and I was letting him, using
his body to erase the morning's humiliation. I wrapped my
legs around his waist, taking every deep, driving thrust, the
feeling of his cock filling me, pushing me closer and closer,
and still he fucked me. I was going to be
sore as fucked the next day, but I was going
to have the most amazing orgasm. I felt it building,
that familiar, unstoppable pressure. Will, God, you're a good fuck.
He groaned, his pace quickening, his cock slamming into me.
How could he last so long? And then my climax hit,
my inner muscles clenching as a hot, powerful gush of
fluid erupted from me, soaking his cock, his stomach, and
running in hot rivers down his thighs. He let out
a moan that was almost a scream, his own orgasm
triggered by my release, his cum, adding to the glorious
sticky mess. Eight hours later, we were all standing on
stage singing. I was flanked by Glen on my left
and Will on my right. I felt a strange and
thrilling sense of power. The harmony we created was perfect,
our voices blending in the warm theater lights, but underneath
it was a secret dissonance only I could feel I
had fucked to of the men singing next to me
within the last twenty four hours. That secret knowledge was
a drug, a hot, liquid thrill that made my performance
more alive, more sensual than it had ever been. Later,
at the aftershow cocktail party hosted by a wealthy classmate,
I watched them from across the room. Glenn was trying
to catch my eye, a look of apology and renewed
desire on his face. Will was standing with a quiet confidence,
his gaze possessive and knowing. Instead of feeling anxious or concerned,
I was exquisitely turned on. They weren't just my former
singing partners anymore. They were my lover, and a thought
of them both wanting me, perhaps even fighting for my
attention for the rest of the night, was the most
delicious kind of foreplay. And the night was just getting started.
A concert high was electric, a current that ran through
all six of us, refusing to die down. After the
official party ended, we found a dive bar that stayed
open late and drank the night away, laughing and telling
stories from our college days. It felt easy, comfortable, like
no time had passed at all. When the bar finally
kicked us out, no one was ready for the night
to end. Glenn, ever, the leader, made the call party
in my room. We hauled a small liquor store worth
of wine and whiskey up to his suite, and that's
when the last of our inhibitions evaporated. The air was
thick with laughter and nostalgia and a palpable, unspoken current
of lust. We were all sprawled across the furniture, drunk
and happy when Kevin, who had been mostly quiet all night, piped.
Speaker 5: Up, Hey, Meg, I gotta ask, is it true what
Glenn said about the squirting.
Speaker 2: Glenn stared daggers at him, but before I could answer,
and to everyone's shock, Will spoke.
Speaker 4: Holy shit, Kevin, it's the hottest fucking thing she's moaning,
and it's like a river.
Speaker 2: The room fell silent. Everyone looked at Will, shocked. I
looked at Will and couldn't help it smile. He at
least could keep a secret until he was drunk. Then
five pairs of eyes Glenn's Will's, Kevin's, and the other two,
Mark and Sam turned to me. But it wasn't a
look of judgment. It was raw, unadulterated desire in their eyes.
I saw my own fantasies reflected back at me. They
all wanted me, they all wanted a taste. I thought
it over for a fraction of a second, Drunk and
horny and filled with a deep, uncomplicated love for these
men who had been my friends for so many years. Well,
a wicked smile spread across my face. I guess I
shouldn't leave anyone out now. I let my gaze travel
from one handsome, hopeful face to the next. I'd say,
who's next, but I'm not sure I have the patience
to fuck five guys one after the other. I stood up,
peeling off my dress in one smooth motion, letting it
pool at my feet. I was naked except for my panties. Gentlemen,
I have three holes. Some of you are going to
have to take turns. The effect was instantaneous.
Speaker 4: It was a.
Speaker 2: Beautiful, chaotic scramble of discarded shirts and unzipped trousers. They
surrounded me, their hands all over my body, A glorious
sensory overload. Mark was the first to claim a hole,
dropping to his knees and burying his face in my pussy,
his tongue immediately finding my clit. Glenn stood behind me,
his hard cock pressed against my ass as he kissed
my neck. Heaven and Will were on either side, each
crusting one of my breasts. I had Sam's cock in
my hand, stroking him as he moaned in my ear.
We need to be on the bed. They guided me there,
laying me on my back like an offering. It was
a blur of pleasure, a mouth on my pussy, a
cock in my mouth, another one sliding deep into me.
They swapped and shared their movements, surprisingly cooperative, a silent
agreement that gave me everything I could possibly want. Will
fucked my pussy while Glenn fucked my mouth. Then Kevin
took my pussy while Sam took my ass. For the
first time, the feeling of being filled so completely sending
a fresh wave of ecstasy through me. They used my
body like a playground, and I reveled in it. I
crusted as I found myself on my hands and knees,
straddling a prone Will, his cockberry deep inside my pussy
behind me, Glenn slid into my ass, his rhythm matching
Wills in front of me Note Kevin, and I took
his cock into my mouth, my head bobbing in time
with the two men fucking me. In each of my
free hands, I held another cock, marks and SAMs, stroking them,
feeling them pulse with anticipation. I was completely full, completely used,
and on the verge of the most monumental orgasm of
my life. I just as the wave was about to crash,
I pulled away with the strength I didn't know I possessed.
I pushed myself free, dislodging the three cocks from my body.
I crawled to the edge of the bed, the five
of them watching me, their faces a mixture of confusion
and raw desperate need. I sat on the edge, spread
my legs wide and put my own fingers between my legs,
finding my clip. I'm going to come now. My voice
was trembling with power. I began to stroke myself, my
eyes locked with theirs. Whoever wants a shower kneel in
front of me. There was no hesitation. One by one,
then all at once, they stumbled off the bed and
knelt before me in aliede five handsome men, their hard
cocks jutting out, their faces tilted up in worship. I
looked at my audience, my friends, my lovers, and I
let go. My orgasm was a cataclysm, A powerful, unending
torrent of my own fluid erupted from me, drenching them.
It sprayed across their faces, their chests, their outstretched hands.
I screamed, my whole body convulsing with a pleasure so
intense it was almost painful, my own private river washing
away over my five devoted followers. I woke the next
morning to the sun streaming through the hotel window. I
was alone, my body ached in the most delicious way,
and my head was pounding from the booze. But as
I lay there, sticky and sore and smelling of sex,
I felt a profound sense of peace. I was hung over, yes,
but completely utterly fulfilled. I wondered, as a boyce would
be up for a yearly reunion, I know I was.
Thanks so much for listening to my podcast. I'm Roxy Callahan,
and my Erotic Whispers are brought to you by tenth
Muse Studio.