My Somehow Disappointing Threesome

I’m going to shock everyone with what I’m about to say. It’s about a threesome. A girl-girl-guy threesome, which is like Disneyland without any lines and instead of rides there are vaginas but there are only two of them and you’re a penis. Boy, that analogy fell apart. Anyway. It happened while I was in college, where I acquired my first-ever boyfriend, mainly just so I could have sex whenever I wanted, without turning my privates into a petri dish. And also for emotional nourishment and hugs.

Hi, mom.

My boyfriend, let’s call him Sean, because that’s his real name, was a stereotypical football frat dude. A dude’s dude. A bro’s bro. A dum-dum’s dum-dum. If he were in a horror movie he’d be the first to die (unless there was a black character), and then probably use his last breath to call someone a faggot.

Our dates consisted of having fumbly sex on his twin bed and then hanging out with his jock buds as they punched stuff and talked about banging chicks. Foreign chicks, old chicks, young chicks, alien chicks, cartoon chicks, and of course, multiple chicks. Stack a bunch of chicks on top of each other like a club sandwich and use your dick as the bacon. (I feel slightly better about this analogy.) “Oh, how awesome would that be, bro? Super awesome, bro. Let’s play Madden.”

Enter Lori, a fellow classmate and swimsuit model. Just like any classic fairytale romance, one day we looked at each other and were like, “hey, I like your breasts and stuff. We should fuck.” “Totally!” “But I have a boyfriend!” “However can we make this work?”

Fade out.

Fade in (I’m not sure why this took on a script format, but don’t worry, I’m going to talk about doing a girl soon). My parents, who live close to campus, ask me to come over and house-sit while they go on vacation. Looks like the setting has just been established.

Sean comes over to watch ESPN and manhandle my tits, when the subject of Lori comes up. He blurts out that she’s “got a great ass.” I recognize the opportunity and jump on it. “Yeah, she does,” I say. “She’s a model. I really like her. Hey, I should invite her over!”

He grunts.

I immediately text Lori and she’s soon at the door, vodka in hand and not much clothing on her body. She sits down on the couch and the tension starts to mount as we nervously look at each other and think, “Wow, we are finally going to do this!”

Sean is apparently not thinking anything. In fact, he seems completely unaware of the strong sexual current bouncing throughout the room, even though the situation is pretty much the beginning of every porno ever. Well, a porno with real tits. (Sarah high fives the air.)

Sean leaves to make a drink, and Lori and I just dive straight into each other’s vaginas. It’s Pussy City, population our faces and hands and feet and whatever we can get in there. If we were throwing a party the invite would say “Bring Your Own Vag, Haha Just Kidding We Have Tons.”

We’re just starting to heat up our cock pockets (cock pockets?) when Sean walks back in. Lori and I both freeze, nailing an impression of children running out of time during a watermelon-eating contest.

Well, here it is dude. You’ve bragged a million times about how great your penis would do in a threesome situation, so dive in. Grab the bull by the horns. Cash in your lottery ticket. Put your dick in us. Or… just stand there looking confused and terrified. Sure, you can do that too.

Lori and I motion at his crotch and then ours. No response. We point at his dick again and then our mouths. Still nothing. Well, we’re out of ideas. Maybe he wants to watch? Okay.

It’s not as fun this time, but we’re troopers, so we get back to work on each other. Sean finally uncovers his eyes and sits down quietly next to us. Way to go, dude! You are totally taking charge and being a man! Grab us with your muscular arms and have your way. Yes! Enter us over and over like the big, strong—wait. Are you rubbing my feet? You are rubbing my feet.
Oh my god why are you rubbing my feet?

I can’t help it and I laugh straight into Lori’s crotch. Sean continues to sit there like he’s watching a documentary on jellyfish and can’t find the remote. Suddenly, he reaches out and slaps Lori’s ass. And judging from her shocked expression, it wasn’t a very sexy slap.

I peer around Lori’s tits to see what my idiot boyfriend is doing, but he’s gone. He slapped and ran. Isn’t that some form of assault?

I would have said something encouraging, but, frankly, my mouth was full of titty. Lori and I quickly figure out we’re on our own and have just redoubled our efforts, when we hear a scream. Not an orgasmic scream, mind you, but a strange, guttural, girlish yelp. We both look up to see Sean running out of the room as if two hot naked chicks were doing each other for his entertainment in some other part of the house.

We both sigh but continue going at it because, you know, sex. After “finishing” (having a bunch of orgs), we grudgingly and nakedly go off in search of the stupid jockstrap. We find him, fully-clothed, in my old bedroom, curled up on my pink comforter and crying. Nude, slick, and all sexed up, Lori and I sit on the bed and pat him on the back, letting him know it’s okay.

“Really?” he asks as he hugs my frilly pillow.

“Yes, really. Your dick probably would’ve been too much for us.” We sit there for some time, humming quietly to him until he falls asleep.

The next day, I visit Sean in his dorm room. His bro herd is there and one of them gleefully announces, “Sean banged the tits off you and that chick last night! NICE!”

Oh for fuck’s sake.

Without any indication of shame or sheepishness, Sean then high fives the guy next to him.

“Did he spread it out evenly or…?“ his Neanderfriend asks.

“Actually, he couldn’t even get it up and then he ran away and cried. I think he might be into dudes,” I say, before high-fiving the guy sitting next to Sean and walking out.
 
That’s my story. I thought my first threesome was going to be two vaginas and a penis but it turned out to be three vaginas. And one was quite large. I dated Lori for the next six months, but we never added another set of genitals to the mix again. Sometimes it’s just better to keep a sex-crazed swimsuit model who likes to go down on you to yourself, I guess.

Sarah Beattie is a writer who lives in Hawaii, hates her ex-boyfriend and enjoys telling people she lives in Hawaii.