At The Races

A Sexual Fantasy

— By Con Sensualidad

I'm a straight woman and nothing turns me on like seeing two guys together! Masculine and soft, tough and affectionate, rough and playful. I was recently lucky enough to experience this in the flesh.
Every year a few hundred leather-clad punks and grease monkeys descend on a secret location in the Netherlands to enjoy the bakbrommer races. Women do participate, but the heady atmosphere is distinctly macho. Beards and blackened fingernails, giant men with greasy hands. I didn’t think this would be the setting for what would come next.
It’s the afterparty and the booze, weed and adrenaline of the day has gone to my head as much as the engine fumes. I watch the guy I like playfighting with his friend. They tug at clothes, grab each other by the neck, pull the other in, pull his lips to his, kiss. Just a momentary kiss. A few stolen seconds and they pull away, laughing together, unaware that anyone has seen them
Later the friend admits to me that he really wants to suck our friend's dick.
“Me too”, I reply.
I’m talking to an older biker, when they come sit the other side of the fire and check, making sure nobody is looking. Except me. They have my attention. They kiss again. Soft and deliberate, but again momentary. They turn to see what effect their game has on me. As I finally exhale, letting out a heavy sigh, I try to refocus on the man who’s talking to me. They laugh, satisfied.
The conversation continues as I try to pull my mind away from images of him standing over us, both of us kneeling, looking hungrily up into his eyes as he looks between us, deciding who will take his dick first. We look at each other, knowing that we will fight if we have to, to be the first to take him in our mouth. He enjoys this, knowing that he has us both, that we’re captivated, both there to please him.
“Don’t you think?” 
I’m completely lost, distracted, disoriented.
I look over and they’re gone. Shit! They’ve left.
Disappointed, I go back to the conversation.
Then I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Ready to go? You’re coming home with us, right?"