28 December 2012

Nicky Ménage à Trois or The Three Wise Men

Threesomes.

I am pretty sure I've blogged about the times I've partaken in the "ménage." Actually, in looking at the archive, it seems I haven't. But I most definitely blogged about the five-way with me, my ex, a couple and the awkward fifth. (Click here.)

So, here's the thing: for me, being the third party is exciting. I, for the most part, am doted on - poked at both ends, serviced at the same time by two mouths, constantly being tantalized, titillated, excited - a most overwhelming surge of ecstasy. But only as long as the chemistry is right. I've most definitely been in a ménage à trois where the chemistry was all wrong.

Several years ago, I used to hang with this guy who always said he was "partnered." Never truly understood the hooking up when you were in a happy relationship - especially when you go out of your way to say that after being asked "are you single?" I digress. The guy was an in shape, late-30-something, with a noticeable air of sophistication. His apartment on the UES was impeccably decorated, detailed, and demure (not really, but I was always told to use three descriptors - and I also like alliteration). He always wanted to have a glass of wine before playing hide the sausage. He was just classy like that.

I remember clearly the last two meetings I had with Nick. Post-jizz as I was lacing up my shoe, caressing my back Nick asked if I would be interested in a threesome with his "life partner." To which I replied, "you really have a partner?" One of my friends sent me a text a couple weeks ago saying that he was at a party where another guy was flirting with his boyfriend. He let it go on, being secure in his relationship, but expressed he would "never share. Ever." No, it wasn't Taylor Swift, it was just a guy who knew that you don't bring out your partner into a sexual situation - especially if you love them, or maybe because you don't want anyone else to see what you have to deal with in bed. And to be truthful, I don't see why you would. Spice things up? Try something new? Ugh! Go skydiving naked. Why would you ever invite someone into your love-circle-party-of-two? After a short conversation, I agreed. Hey, I try anything 5 times.

The last meeting was a meeting that I haven't gotten quite out of my head . . .

Nick opened the door, offered me some wine right away. He wasn't his suave-self. He looked a bit pensive, fussed around with things on the foyer table, the flower arrangement, the pillows on the couch. He was nervous, overly chatty. Kind of weird. Made small talk, I wondered where his partner was. Normally, in ménage a many situations, all parties involved are out and about, tweeked out or stroking or whatever. I casually rubbed Nick's knee and he leaned over for a kiss and suggested we got things started.

At first it was just the two of us - well, for about 30 minutes. I didn't want to be rude and give the impression that he wasn't enough, so I just let it happen. Sure enough, when that 30 minute mark in my head elapsed, he called out to his live-in: "John, will you get out here? We've been waiting for you." The tone was more of a "little Johnny stop playing with your food in your high chair" kind of tone. You feel me?

John came out of another room . . . more like exploded. He was VERY busy carrying folded up laundry and putting things down and picking things up. It was funny. He and Nick were having this very "old couple argument," the kind where there is stern talking and "I statements." Yes, those kind. In any case, I couldn't put my finger on it, but after a few statements and moments, he reminded me of Phil Hartman's SNL Anal Retentive character, remember him? If you don't remember or don't know what I'm referring to, check out his "Fishing with the Anal Retentive Sportsman" skit with Wayne Gretsky.

John finally got in bed with us and we were going at it heavily when John said, wait one second. He left and Nick and I continued. John came back with a fresh warm towel and moved us over to put it under us. "I warmed the towel in the dryer to make it more comfortable. We bought these towels in Egypt, was it Nick? Or was it in Morocco. I can't remember. Gosh, I do remember the guy in the market haggling with me. Haha. We could've gone on for hours if I didn't just give in already. Remember that Nick?"

Nick grabbed John and pulled him closer behind me so I was in the ménage à middle, but probably more so he would shut the fuck up. John quickly shut up and began kissing the back of my neck while John and I kissed each other deeply, grinding our hard cocks into each other. John announced that he was going to grab a condom and lube. For fucks sake: just do what you have to! I could hear Nick quietly say "Shh" as he did. I smiled. John returned with the condom, lube, and a box of Wet Ones. I could hear him talking to himself as he unwrapped the rubber and put lube on his dick and in the rubber and on it as well. "Have to make sure you are properly lubed up or it may rip. Don't want any diseases, not that you have any, just want to be certain. Now, where can I put these Wet Ones? Oh, on the side of the bed, easy access. Ok, just so everyone knows, there is a trash can to the side of the bed that has a drawstring on it so we don't have to touch anything..."

At this point I was just dying inside. John WAS the anal retentive third. I busted my nut with Nick and just excused myself.

Point of the conversation: "I don't share. Ever." - wise man ;)

- DeeCue

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