Something I get asked sometimes, by people aware of the fact that I’ve had a fairly freaky-deaky sex life and have currently managed to turn it into “work environment,” is, am I jaded? Worn out?
Well, I heard this joke once: a woman who’s remarried runs into her jerk ex and he says, “So how does your new hubby like fucking your worn-out old pussy?”
And she says, “He likes it fine once he gets past the worn-out part.”
I can relate to that concept, as they say. There’s always more because you’re dealing with human beings. (I think you could get worn out if you’re just dealing with mechanical devices, maybe.)
One thing I’ve noticed, I really have gotten used to ménage a trios. It almost seems like there’s something missing otherwise. That sounds kind of distressing, now that I read it. That just being intimate with one person might not be enough to do the trick. But it’s not so bad.
When I was in my early twenties and running completely riot (college, thenEurope) I really liked it with two guys. I mean, Duh, who wouldn’t? You get twice the action for your money, right? I learned how to kind of move them around and spell them, so they could keep going in shifts. And most of the benefits come in the middle of the sandwich.
There was this one guy I knew that I really liked, still think of him very fondly. He was a varsity tight end, and his room mate was a lineman, this really big, strong, major kind of monster. A nose guard with moves as well as power. Unfortunately, a bit of a dickhead and mostly boring when he wasn’t being terrifying. He just walked in on us once, and decided to help himself.
But damned if it didn’t turn out to be about as good as I ever had it. Mr. NG was like a Kenworthy fucking machine, of course. My squeeze, the tight end (and I’m telling you…) wasn’t that much of a sexual juggernaut, but he was SWEET. And CUTE. I just loved him to pieces and the more we did the threes (football term) the more I crushed on him. That might sound strange, especially if you watch smut vids where that stuff all ends up in some awkwardly posed double entry with the guys knocking like mad on both doors at once. And I just have to say, there’s a lot going on there for the lucky girl. I don’t see why the guys even bother with it. And they don’t all that much. I used to kid them that they were latent queer, just using me so they could be sliding their units against each other. A thin fillet of Cammy keeping them from homoeroticism. But mostly it’s nice to share and take turns, just like they taught you in HeadStart.
What we kind of fell into–and I still miss and haven’t really been able to re-create very well–was we’d all three be on our sides, lover boy would be finished up, for the most part laying there facing me with my hands on his dick and his hands wherever he felt like. Often kind of cupping my face or throat. Mr. All Conference would be spooning up behind me, just pounding my brains out like something you wound up or used to demonstrate how good your batteries work. Maybe cupping my tits, but mostly just hanging on while his dick did his thinking for him, and the thinking was along the lines of: Boom, boom, boom, baby, out go the lights. I’d just lay there looking at this boy, right into each other’s eyes. Kissing a little, stroking him. And all the time I’m being fucked into a string of orgasms that just keep going on and on like one of the those fireworks shows where everybody’s so impressed by how beautiful it is that they’re looking at their watches. I’d close my eyes and it was like a movie explosion, just tearing my head up and dripping down the sides. I’d open them and here’d be these big blue eyes and this guy just staring at me like I was a big old cake in the bakery window.
I’m sure there are people who would think that’s crazy, or nasty dirty, or sick or whatever. But it was one of the real emotional high points of my life. After BoomBoom got off (usually sounding like somebody gutting a prize boar) he’d just fall asleep and I’d lie there getting all gooey and lovey-dovey with my sweetie. Ah… good times gone by.
But these days, what I like most is two girls and one guy. And again, I’m not talking about Porno World where two girls are just dying to get this guy off and have him jizz all over their gums and eyelids, I’m talking about real life where the girl is full contact. There’s this darling couple I see a bit and they’re just perfect. She doesn’t really consider her self lezzy either, but she likes it fine when we all three hit a hot tub. That’s where we do it almost every time. The hot water thing is kind of part of it. It generally turns into the two of them working me over, actually, since I’m the novelty part for them. Fine by me. She sticks to hands-on, no real mouth on the pie stuff. Me too. For one thing, chicks are sloppy and taste funny. I don’t know what we’d do if it was just the two of us. Not much, I’m guessing. But with her hubby there to liven things up it works just fine. Another situation where it turns out that it’s really nice to be able to just enjoy somebody’s pleasure when somebody else is fucking them out of their minds. They’re getting taken care of and you can just play around all you want without a lot of strain or pressure. I’m like lying back with my head flopped on the deck and she’s kissing my nipples and neck and lips while he socks it to her. Or vice versa.
Once we did this thing where we were all three just lying back in the tub watching meteor showers and the whole thing was just fingers under the water. Each of us with two hands on us I think he kind of got the best of that one, but I wasn’t complaining any. And, again, eventually you have it off and cool it down and your heartbeat stabilizes and balls descend and flaps down and all that. And you’re just three people feeling really good, and really affectionate towards each other with no barriers or inhibitions. Like a bunch of little kids, in a way. Maybe that sounds strange. I remember one time he was sitting on the bench, hot water up to his neck and I was sitting on one of his thighs and she on the other, both lying up against his chest with one arm around his neck and one hand on the other girl’s breasts. Just snuggling up. I’d run a tongue in his ear and he’d chuckle or moan or something and she’d sort of pinch my nipple. It was just great. I could have sat there all night.
And if anybody thinks that relationship helped inform a climactic scene in Mayan Calendar Girls, you win the gold-plated megaphone.
What kind of interests me about this whole threeplay foreplay thing is finding out if it turns out to just be a phase.
BTW, I started that line of erotic ebooks I threatened to do, and there’s a short on Kindle that gets into details on that college Two Man Rush thing. You can see it–under a dollar, no less–in my “Dirty Blonde” line on JUKE LIT. If you’re dirty minded and all.