I never thought I’d find myself teaching another woman to squirt, but strangely enough, that’s exactly what happened. I find myself in these situations from time to time. How does this type of thing end up happening to a person, you might ask. I’ll share one of my little stories with you, and you can see for yourself.
It was late one Saturday night after a dinner party, and the four of us- Jasmine, Patrick, John, and I- were at Jasmine and Patrick’s house reminiscing, and enjoying some heavy drinking.
The brothers- John and Patrick- were also entertaining themselves by trading punches and laughing over their childhood misadventures.
Every so often, a particularly hard punch landed from one of the men, and I wondered how serious their insults actually were. I knew from past comments made by John that he was still somewhat bitter over his wife’s affair with his brother.
On this particular night, we were each quite inebriated. Jasmine and I were sitting next to each other on the oversized couch in their living room. As our two boys became louder and increasingly worked up, Jasmine and I retreated into a conversation of our own, punctuated by their belligerence. Naturally, we moved closer together, intent on hearing our own captivating dialogue.
As we sat knee to knee, engrossed with each other, I remembered how beautiful she was, and how profoundly attracted to her I still was.
Without much thought, my hesitation drowned in liquid courage, I placed my hand on her thigh in a cupping caress, and leaned in to kiss her. As if my lusty interest was the only signal she needed, she returned my affection, passionately kissing me back, and moaning into my mouth. Our bodies moved impossibly closer, until I relaxed, semi-lying against the couch, pulling her over me.
As her thigh rolled to cover my hip, my hands moved involuntarily, until one wrapped around to pull her closer, and the other found its way to the front of her panties. I began massaging her there, rubbing in soft tight circles, causing her to buck against my fingers, and moan into my mouth.
Only then did I noticed the silence. Our men’s bickering had stopped, and the room was quiet, other than Jasmine and my lusty whimpers.
I then felt movement next to me, as John took his place by my side. He moved closer, pulling me onto his lap, while allowing Jasmine and I to remain tangled up in each other.
“I love watching you,” he breathed into my ear, as he quickly nibbled my lobe.
Opening my eyes, I could see that Patrick was similarly wrapped around Jasmine. His fingers moved under mine, finding their way into her panties. I could tell by what I was feeling that he fingered her. She must have liked it, as she began moaning in time to the movement of his handiwork.
John wasted no time playing my body. As his fingers made their way inside me, he pulled me to face him, and began kissing my lips and feasting on my mouth.
This tandem make out session went on for several moments, until I pulled away from my man and returned to kissing Jasmine. Where she moved against my hip, I could feel Patrick’s fingers moving in and out of her. His other hand fondled her breasts. Since her chest was close to mine, he subsequently fondled mine as well.
The suddenness of the erotic sensations- John fingering me and fondling my clit, me kissing Jasmine, while massaging her clit, and Patrick’s fingers on my nipples- caused me to became incredibly aroused, rewarding John’s fingers with a hot wet spurt of fluid. He must have noticed, as he pulled me back, giving himself room to finger me more vigorously. I worked to continue kissing Jasmine, and Patrick was able to continue touching both of us women.
John then placed himself more squarely between my thighs and bent his head to taste me while continuing to fuck me with his fingers. Very quickly, he had me worked up to climax, and he helped me to cum, squirting his face with my juices. His eyes widened at the treat, and he put his mouth directly in the path, attempting to drink in every drop of fluid.
The movements of Jasmine and Patrick stopped, and one look told me that they stared in fascination at the way John was working my body.
I was unable to hold still from his delightful ministrations, and my hips bucked wildly, placing me more firmly against his mouth. I could feel the pressure he created building and releasing as he made me squirt. He made gulping sounds as he attempted to drink it in. Despite those attempts, my fluid ran down my buttocks, and I could feel that the couch’s fabric beneath me was soaked.
When John’s movements finally slowed and diminished, I rested my head on a pillow, tired and dizzy, but gloriously sated. My eyes closed, I didn’t notice Jasmine’s leaning towards me. At least not until her hair tickled my thighs.
“What was that?” she asked, in surprised delight. She moved my thighs from side to side, trying to get a look at the fluid that had been expelled from my body.
John stood in front of me, naked, and stroking his engorged shaft. He had a look of pure masculine pride on his face as he smiled down at her.
“You have never squirted before, have you,” John guessed, making a statement more than asking a question.
Jasmine glanced from him to me, a puzzled look on her face.
“I don’t think I can do that,” she said, looking confused, or sad. I’m not sure which, but it seemed she looked at my vagina with envy.
“You should be able to do it,” John disagreed. And I swear he was triumphant about having experienced something that his ex and her lover had not achieved.
“You should show them how,” I suggested.
John considered my words, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Jasmine turned to face me, and then asked what must have been the golden question. “Can he show me on you?” She leaned closer, curious about what she might learn.
“Come here, John,” I said, crooking my finger at him.
He took his place by my side, again making me a Jasmine-John sandwich. I captured his hand, guiding his fingers to my vaginal entrance. Taking Jasmine’s hand, I guided it to the same spot, so that they each had a finger inside me. I had to spread my legs much wider to accommodate them both. It was awkward, yet strangely erotic.
John moved his hand so that his finger sat at the top of my vaginal entrance.
“Do you feel this rough patch right here?” John asked her.
Curiously, his voice was much lighter; he was being much kinder to his ex-wife than I’d heard him speak to her in a very long time.
Jasmine’s wrist rotated until her finger was right next to his. They moved back and forth together, stroking that sensitive spot, and causing the exquisite pressure to once again build there. It felt so incredible, it momentarily took my breath away, and I couldn’t keep my hips from rhythmically bucking to the sensations they were causing.
“I feel it!” Jasmine exclaimed. “The skin! It feels different there! Is that the G spot?” she asked.
Her expression was one of amazed curiosity as she consulted with her one-time lover. John had a smug grin as he confirmed.
“You should make her squirt too,” I suggested, placing my hand on her chest, and prompting her to lie back on the couch.
Jasmine’s eyes widened at my suggestion. Patrick’s face took on a serious expression, and John was very still, staring at her intimate place, as if trying to decide on his course of action.
The room was quiet for what seemed an eternity, and I began to regret making the suggestion. As I considered the people and relationships in the room, I wondered if John and Jasmine still had residual feelings for each other. And was Patrick jealous of the two potentially having a sexual encounter? My experiences with John made me feel that he was hopelessly in love and in lust with me, and that he detested Jasmine. And from what I’d seen of the way Patrick and Jasmine interacted, they were very deeply in love with each other, and it was sometimes as if no one else in the world existed.
With all of that, I couldn’t understand the hesitation. After John and Jasmine separated, Jasmine had joined John and I for one last ménage a trois, but it had been clear that their relationship was over. So what was causing the hesitation.
My puzzling was interrupted by Jasmine asking me, “Would you mind John showing Patrick on me?” She guided Patrick’s fingers to enter her as she made the suggestion.
Patrick’s brow furrowed, and I wasn’t sure that he was pleased with the suggestion, but he gave a slight nod.
John turned to me as if requesting permission.
“Go ahead,” I told him, and watched in fascination as both men entered the beautiful woman sitting next to me. I was surprised at how aroused I was becoming watching them finger her.
John moved his finger to the place that I knew was probably Jasmine’s G spot. He then directed Patrick’s finger there, after grabbing his wrist.
“I donut think I feel what ye’re talking about,” Patrick said in his Irish brogue. I noticed that his accent was always sloppier when he was drunk.
They rubbed the area for several moments, until John withdrew in frustration. “I can feel it and I know it’s there. It’s just not as prominent as Morgan’s,” he grumbled.
John had the irritated expression I’d come to associate with him feeling like he wasn’t being listened to. I couldn’t help but giggle, finding joy in him instructing his brother on his ex-wife’s sexual pleasure points.
Jasmine then pulled Patrick’s fingers out of her, and replaced them with hers. I watched her explore herself, in search of her own elusive G spot.
“I can’t feel it either,” Jasmine announced, before turning to me.
She then placed her fingers at my entrance and looked to me, silently asking permission. I gave a slight nod, consenting to her exploration of me.
“I feel it right here,” she exclaimed, before grasping Patrick’s fingers, and guiding them to enter me.
I was so surprised I had no time to react. But when she placed his fingers, and then toggled them in that place at my entrance, any thought of resistance flew out of my brain.
Patrick gasped as a spurt of liquid heat was purged by his manipulation of me. Jasmine’s finger remained in place as together they milked me. A fresh onslaught of hot fluid squirted from me, and my thighs, as well as the cushion beneath me became saturated anew.
As the exquisite orgasm continued, I wondered somewhere in the depths of my brain if John would object to his ex wife and his brother so intimately exploring me.
When John pushed them aside and forcefully entered me, I had my answer. He needed to be the one to dole out my pleasure. A quick glance at his face told me that he was immensely turned on.
Next, John’s hand covered my throat. With the perfect amount of pressure, he choked me, causing me to orgasm once more. As I cried out my release, he pistoned into me more forcefully. He too cried out, as his thrusts became faster and more vigorous. Until finally he too came, deliciously filling me. As he settled on top of me, I tightened the hold I had with my thighs, pulling him closer.
Turning my face to the side allowed me to breathe, and to see Jasmine and Patrick. They too had just finished making love.
After several moments, John moved, pulling out of me, again taking his place by my side. Patrick moved similarly, and I was once again thigh to naked thigh with Jasmine.
“Will you try to find it again?” Jasmine asked, gripping my fingers and guiding them to her core.
This time, I moved off the couch, taking a seat on the floor between Jasmine’s legs. The woman, my deeply desired lover, wanted to squirt, and I wanted to teach her how to do it.
Through hot, wet folds, I moved my fingers inside. Her channel wasn’t quite as tight this time, relaxed as it was, after she’d just enjoyed sex. I moved my fingers around, exploring the swollen skin. Bringing them around and up, I perused the skin, looking for the rough patch that I associated with my own G spot.
I toggled my fingers side to side, diving and exploring, searching for that elusive place. Deepening my stroke, I felt a difference in the tissue.
Jasmine moaned, her hips thrusting forward, and her muscles clamping down on my fingers.
“What was that?!” she cried out, her hips jutting slowly back and forth.
Patrick suddenly moved from the couch, pushing her thighs further apart, and sitting next to me on the floor. I took his outstretched fingers and placed one next to mine. Moving his hand with my unoccupied one, and feeling for placement with my lone remaining finger, I helped Patrick to rub Jasmine’s G spot. I held my finger in place for several moments, sliding side to side and in and out with Patrick, alternating depth and intensity as we moved.
Jasmine became more and more worked up, gripping the couch on either side of her. I could feel her from the inside, and knew that she was becoming engorged.
Finally, Patrick took over, and I withdrew my fingers, before seating myself back next to John.
We both watched in fascination as Patrick worked his lover, enthusiastically fingering, and watching her expressions.
Suddenly, Jasmine clamped her thighs together.
“It’s too much! I’m gonna pee,” she said, pulling away.
Patrick’s fingers remained inside, and he looked to John, as if for guidance.
I interjected, understanding what she was feeling. “You’re not gonna pee. That’s normal,” I instructed.
Placing a hand lightly on her inner thigh, I pushed, prompting her to open up. Her hips bucked wildly, as Patrick continued fondling her
“Ugh!” She cried out, her hands gripping her breasts.
Patrick’s fingering became more vigorous, and his mouth made its way to her. Simultaneously he worked her from the inside and the outside, all while her hips bucked more wildly.
“I can’t take it!” She lied. “So much pressure,” she cried out, moaning and panting.
Suddenly, Patrick’s face moved back, his chin saturated. Clear liquid spurted from Jasmine as Patrick continued toggling, his fingers just inside her entrance.
As the floor became increasingly soaked, Patrick fingered. Sometimes faster, sometimes softer. Jasmine settled into the couch, her soft panting, and squishy squirting the only sound in the room.
Patrick milked her, it seemed, until they were both spent. He then pulled her from the couch onto him, and the two lay tangled together, barely moving once they found a comfortable spot.
It was Jasmine’s first time of many, squirting. It was also the first time the four of us came together, but would certainly not be our last.