What I Learned From Having A Four-Way

What I Learned From Having A Four-Way
Flickr / Nagarjun Kandukuru

Nothing fucks with your head more than having a four-way. I don’t mean two girls and two guys; I mean “full blown-reverse gang bang.” Three girls on you at one time, each of them trying to get you off in a different away. Fucking one girl while you’re eating out another and finger-blasting the third. That type of thing. I had my first foursome around two years ago. I reminisce about it like a soldier longing for his wife. Nearly daily, I think about the height of sexual conquest. It’s a really weird thing to handle, especially when you have low self-esteem.

I’ve never been one for liking myself. Never had much of and ego. Just day-in/day-out self-hatred. It’s a pretty miserable way to be. I sucked at sports and I was awful with women. I didn’t lose my virginity until I was in university. Everyone thought I was a weirdo, for perfectly good reasons. I’m obsessive-compulsive. It’s gotten better over the years, but my friends still say “It’s not a party until Rob starts spastically rubbing his nose.” I’ve run the gambit of just about every stress related symptom. Washing my hands until they bled, peeling my lip until it bled, and even picking my nose till it bled. A lot of bleeding. But then the lamer stuff, too. Touching everything in multiples of three. Feeling nauseous every time I walked outside. Fear of small spaces, large spaces, being in groups, being by myself, bodies of water, the wilderness and flying. I’ve been a walking wreck for most of my life.

Then I found the miracle of alcohol. Overnight, I found out that six shots of whiskey could completely transform my personality. It helped me turn my turn from Shy Rob into Angry Rob. Some people say it was a change for the worse, but I liked it enough to develop a drinking problem. For the last five years, it’s been a cycle of drinking so much that I shit blood, then freaking out about the bloody shit, stopping for a few months, then remembering just how much I love drinking. About a month ago, I had another uncomfortable bathroom experience, so I stopped drinking until last night (which was my best night of the month).

Drinking heavily screws up your sense of self. I never really felt like myself when I was drunk, but I was drunk all the time. I always felt like my confidence was fleeting. If I made a friend when I was drunk, I always expected they’d find me boring when I was sober. Same with the women I slept with. I assumed they’d want nothing to do with me once they woke up next to the “real me.” No matter how many women I slept with, I always felt like that nerd that didn’t have a prom date.

When life feels like a game, reality hits you like a bus. Nothing ever really feels like it’s happening to you, until something so real happens you can’t deny it. Then you don’t know if it really happened to the “real” you or to some sort of avatar you created. The four-way was just one example. Not only did I sleep with three girls at the same time, I fucked the shit out of every single one of them. Not a single one left without cumming a few times. If it was a porno, it would’ve had a five-star rating. They were all gorgeous, young sexy women. Two were 19 and one was 22. It couldn’t get any hotter.

Where do you go from there? I was no longer a nerd pretending to be a cool guy; I was the coolest guy I’d ever met. Twelve-year-old Rob couldn’t even imagine that someone like me could exist. That naive child thought four-ways only happened to Egyptian pharaohs. It was a real mindfuck.

The four-way sent me into a deep existential crisis. I wasn’t the man I thought I was. I was no longer the kid who got picked last for football. I was a bona fide ladies’ man. I knew plenty of other perverts out there, but no one who climbed the Everest that I had. There such a large gap between how I saw myself and how I acted that I lost track of who I was.

There was a crash after that. I had no idea where I could go from there. In all the world of sexuality, I thought that nothing could ever top that.

A few months later, I was proven wrong. I had one girl blow me while another girl ate my ass. I was the reincarnation of Caligula. Clearly, that was the top of the mountain.

I was wrong again. My buddy James fucked a dominatrix and her sub at the same time. For a moment, I felt like he was the apex. Then I started meeting some real oddballs. I was introduced to a woman who pegged multiple men at the same time. Then someone who suspended themselves from hooks so they could finally achieve some sexual pleasure. Even a dude who got off watching his girlfriend get gang-banged.

Every time I thought I’d met someone who had seen it all, I would be surprised again just a few months later. All these these people looked at my four-way as a cute, childish activity.

Not only had my understanding of myself been destroyed, my very understanding of the world has been destroyed. I felt like a sailor who just discovered that the land he saw in the distance was a mirage. Nothing I knew made sense anymore. My understanding of what people were had forever changed.

The world’s a big place, filled with mostly boring people. A few freaks still slip through, though. The four-way taught me what hope meant. No matter how high I climb, there will always be a taller mountain. That’s as beautiful a notion as anything in the world. There will never stop being challenges more glorious than the last. It’s both a humbling and an ego-boosting idea. You’ll never see it all, but there will always be me more to see. You’ll never master life, but you can always get a little bit higher.

That’s what I learned from banging three girls at once. TC mark

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