Glorious Fourth
I know, I know, I keep telling you I will post about my continuing sex education at college and my sea change from an ugly duckling. I will, I promise, soon, maybe even next week, but I wanted to write about my 4th of July holiday.
I was on my own last weekend, my lover having left town, and was invited to a fireworks party. Friends have a house with a flat roof that is perfect for perching on to watch the fireworks all over the valley.
BBQ and cocktails and mingling until dark. My hosts had mentioned they had invited a treat for me and they certainly had. Not one, but two lovely men on their own for my enjoyment. Like Scarlett O’Hara I didn’t want to limit myself and invited both of them to watch eat BBQ and watch the fireworks with me.
We climbed up to the roof and chose our spots for the show. My new friends and I chose a spot at the back of the group. My first indication of private fireworks was when one of the men sat behind me and pulled me back to lean against him and his hand stroked up under my shirt to rest right below my left breast and his thumb traced a line around my nipple. The other indication was when the second man settled himself between my legs with his head resting on my thigh. He said this was to be able to see the night sky better but his lips were tracing a line on my thigh at the time.
I settled back to enjoy both sets of fireworks, knowing the second set would start in earnest after the party.
Alex
