My Little Threesome
When it came to threesomes, I had always thought of them as one of those topics you brought up in games of ‘Never Have I Ever’ or moments of extreme boredom, when there was nothing else to do but imagine which of your friends you’d bone if you HAD to have a threesome. It was always posed that way too: if you HAD to have a threesome, and you only stopped playing when someone got offended you didn’t want to have fictional sex with them. We all shunned the idea of it being a real thing because it was publicly unacceptable to say we thought it was really fucking hot.
And then I had a threesome and ladies and gentlemen, I stand correct. It was really fucking hot.
It was a Wednesday and it was raining like crazy outside – a perfect scene for steamy afternoon indoors. There I was, in an empty house with two boys seated on a large sectional in a dimly lit basement. The whole scenario basically yelled at us to have a threesome.
We’d been in that exact situation before – the three of us, alone, in the basement – but nothing had ever come of it. The first time we were alone together we’d discussed the possibility of us “doing stuff” together but it was a playful idea that wasn’t to be entertained. The second time a more heated debate ensued and ultimately, nothing happened. The third time, this time, not much had to be said. Bodies were thrown together, clothes were taken off and this time, all systems were a go.
The boys sat themselves on the couch with a only a little space between them, a space they’d both pull my awkwardly standing self into. One of them started kissing my neck as the other caressed my thigh and I got overwhelming goosebumps accompanied by my heart pounding so loud I could hear it. My mind was racing with thoughts of “What’s happening?” and “Does this make me a slut?” but they were quickly drowned by how good it felt to have one pair of lips on my stomach and the other on my ear.
I moved passionately and shifted my hips in every which way, unsure of which boy was where. It was a mess of heat and limbs and clothes being pulled up or off in every which way. Dry humping never seemed so hot and my lips burned with the feverish, scruffy kisses I was repeatedly getting. I had to purposefully open my eyes to tell myself that this was real.
The choreography of the event was haphazard and awkward, making us all stop several times to look at each other and question the proper protocol. Could the boys touch? Should they touch? How much time should I spend kissing one while fondling the other? The questions made us laugh and only want to continue more, anything to feed our sex-drives.
When it was over, I laid half-naked across one of them as he glided his hands up and down my legs while the other had my head propped on his lap. We were exhausted, confused, and unsure of what would come of this. We avoided eye contact and sat there in momentary silence, trying to revel in the accomplishment of having a forsaken threesome while avoiding the possibility that we might have just irrevocably screwed up our friendship.
But hey, it WAS really fucking hot.