Three Isn't Too Crowded

I am sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over my lap, when Danish appears in the doorway.

“Shauna and I are going to bed now,” he drawls.

I nod. “Yah sure whatever, see you tomorrow.”

He shifts from side to side until he seems to steel himself. “You’re welcome to join us in the bedroom. It’s an invitation.”

“What,” I blurt out. It takes another few seconds for me to fully process the meaning behind his words. “You mean—?“

“Yes, a threesome,” he plows through, “we thought it would be in everyone’s best interests to participate in such an activity.”

“Ah,” I respond stupidly. “I, uh. Yeah. I have to think about this. So a little time. To think about this.”

He walks away, and I am still seated on the couch, touching my face to gouge how drunk I am. Still very buzzed, and I know I am just now entering the tail-end of my high, but sober for the most part. I definitely did not expect this after leaving the party we were just at an hour ago. This is the fourth time I’ve been propositioned for a ménage a trois. I’ve said no all those other times. I’m tired of saying no. Can I pull it off tonight? I have to make sure somehow.

I spot Shauna walking into the bathroom, and I follow her.

“Was this threesome thing your idea?”

She laughs. “Yeah it was, actually. I’ve never been with a girl so I want to try. Danish and I have been talking about it for a bit, and you were the best candidate.”
Bug-eyed, I shake my head. Then look at her. “I have to make sure I am physically down for this.”

I cross the room and kiss her, my hands massaging the sides of her neck while she runs her fingers down my back. The realization that I can do this arrives when I slip my tongue inside her mouth, and she reacts with an enthusiastic murmur. We pull away. She takes my hand and leads me to the bed room. We commence a threesome with her boyfriend. They are both my high school friends. Whom I just had a threesome with. On my first night of Spring Break vacation. At the age of 20.

There was a rabbit vibrator involved that at one point trailed its way across my chest, dipping down my stomach to skirt the edges of my nether regions. There was one voyeur (read: yours always) who observed a couple in the throes of coitus and touched herself. There was frequent Y-dining sessions, manual stimulation, two happy endings, and one non-orgasmic Asian girl left at the end of it all. Resigned to my perpetual, self-named case of “Performance Anxiety,” I get myself off while the both of them sleep.

The next morning we all wake up at 11am and stare at each other before collapsing in a fit of self-satisfied giggles. The three of us just had our first threesome. And it was fun.