Silly Sex Rituals — Episode 3
The Threesome
The three of them were playing drinking games on a Thursday night. Tomas had invited Yelena and Chris to his dorm room. Chris and Yelena lived in the same co-ed building and walked there hand in hand. The air seemed to crackle with electricity every time they got together. Chris carried a pint of Seagram’s Seven in the inside pocket of his peacoat. Someone, though none of them could remember who, had once floated the idea of a threesome — and didn’t that sound like a kinky idea?
For Chris, two guys and one girl wasn’t ideal, but he wasn’t about to complain. Tomas, on the other hand, was openly game for anything and everything. He was tall and beefy in the death metal sense and had a tattoo of Homer Simpson on his shoulder.
Yelena was a wild card, in more ways than one. The first day she’d arrived at college with long, wavy russet hair and a huge portfolio folder tucked beneath her arm. By the second day she had shaved her head. After that, she kept it short, spiky, and dyed a spectacular platinum blond. She’d acquired a certain reputation among the girls and boys around campus and gave zero fucks about it.
The cozy warmth of Tomas’s private room was a welcome reprieve from the frozen February night. Coats were removed. The mini-fridge was stocked with canned beer. There was that pop of carbonated freshness.
They quickly agreed to play circle of death. Chris removed a pack of cards from another coat pocket and gave them a ostentatious shuffle. Yelena removed her sweater. Tomas played Pantera on his computer to set the mood. The laughs came quick and easy.
Chris kept cutting the deck to make aces magically appear.
“Waterfall!” Tomas would cry, and then they’d toast with a clang of cans and drink. Again and again.
Once a certain inebriated equilibrium had been achieved, the mood shifted to reflect the gravity of the situation at hand.
“Are you wasted yet?” Chris asked, putting a hand on Yelena’s leg. She looked down at his feeble, romantic gesture, but didn’t stir to remove it. She shrugged her shoulders. Tomas sat back in a meditative pose. His long black hair unfurled like a cape down past his shoulders. He rubbed the whiskers of his George Michael beard.
“We should do a few shotguns, just to make sure,” Tomas said. He distributed another round to the others. Chris removed his keys and punctured a hole into the side of the can, near the bottom. He then enlarged the size of the hole to become a suitable drinking apparatus.
“Would you do it for me?” Yelena gave a blue-eyed plead and batted a few lashes for dramatic effect.
“Here. Take this one.” Chris passed it along and set to work preparing another.
When they were ready, they placed the hole up to the mouths, pulled the tab, and engorged in a fast, wet gulp.
Chris wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Tomas belched. Yelena started laughing immediately, sending spittle and booze flying into the air like a shattered orbital satellite. The rest of the beer sprayed and foamed onto the bed and carpet.
Clean-up was a pleasant, communal affair. There was an easy familiarity with the way they interacted, as if they’d been living together for years.
“You know, this is like the very definition of ménage à trois,” Chris said, proud to have remembered freshman French. Yelena kinda wiggled her butt a bit in salute. Tomas turned up the volume of the music.
Once everything had been dried and put back in place, Chris excused himself to go to the bathroom, which was down the hall. He entered the poorly lit corridor, feeling like an extra in a Kubrick film. He pissed long and hard into the toilet, then inspected his cock as if preparing to send it into battle. He’d gotten creative in the shower stall that morning and sculpted a veritable landing strip out of pubic hair.
Chris had several concurrent worries, compounded by the edgy tension of the alcohol. He pulled at his cock a few times, hoping it would perform as advertised. Conversely, what if he came too soon? He could imagine someone, mostly likely Tomas, dubbing him One Thrust Bust. Other, more practical matters, swam through the swamp of his dirty mind.
Would he get a chance to set the mood and play some Prince instead of Pantera? What was the protocol for two penises and one vagina? Would there be double penetration? Ass to mouth? Protection? Would Yelena make them kiss as she jerked them off? What if, during the requisite cumshot, he overshot his target and hit Tomas? What then, if Tomas shouted, “What the fuck, dude!?” and punched him in the face? Questions, questions.
Well, there was only one way to find out. He stroked his turf once and then buttoned and zipped. He sauntered the short distance down the hallway and put an ear to Tomas’s door. Strangely, the music had stopped.
When Chris entered the room, he saw a shirtless Yelena atop Tomas on the bed and the two of them were making out. He could see their tongues battling like swords, such a teenage way to kiss. Chris tried to not feel hurt and offended. Mostly, it was awkward, because they didn’t even stop to acknowledge his return.
At the same time, he realized this was it, the now or never moment, the big opportunity. He tiptoed towards the bed and leaned forward to kiss Yelena on the back of her shoulder.
Moments after doing so, Tomas used his size and strength to swing out from under Yelena and pin her beneath him. He gripped her wrists and pushed her arms above her head as he licked the length of her neck. Yelena moaned and opened her eyes to look directly at Chris. She didn’t say anything, but the look she gave him said, “Sorry, but you should go.”
Chris slipped on his coat and backed quietly out of the room while Tomas worked at unhooking Yelena’s translucent sky blue bra. The door closed and Chris walked to the elevator, feeling like he’d just been punched in the stomach.
Upon exiting the building, he withdrew the pint of Seagram’s and took a lusty swig. He cut through the windswept field in the dark on the fifteen minute walk back to his dorm.
When he arrived, his roommate and two other people were sitting there in a haze of candlelight, weed, and Febreeze. All eyes were on Chris.
“Sooo…uh, that was fast,” his roommate said.
“Yeah…”
“You want some shrooms?” one of others asked. He held up a ziplock bag filled with dried fungus.
“Why not?” Chris said, taking the bag in hand. “I wouldn’t mind seeing something else for awhile.”
Thanks for reading! Stay tuned for Episode 4, coming eventually. This story is also available in Series format, if you’re into that.
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