Ménage A Trois

"Our cocks are no bigger than white men's cock".  I shouted to the applauding audience of the university's Jr. KKK Fraternity "And I speak for all black men everywhere, when I say,

THANK YOU!  Thank you for this flattering but preposterous myth. And they say white folks ain't done nothing for us.  Ha!"

This unbelievable line of bullshit yielded me a standing ovation and an session of signing autographs afterwards.  Little did anyone know, I did the whole lecture strictly on a dare from my pot-head roommates.  But such was the life back in the glory days of college.  Living on a whim, flirting with danger and occasionally applying my self to the academics of freshman year.  Not that School was an entirely wasted effort.  I came to love French 101, because it was there that, I learned that the name of my number one sexual fantasy is called ménage-a -trios, clearly knowledge I co85uld use in the outside world and have a fucking good time in the process.

            By spring break, I was obsessed with learning that which cannot be taught...in school at least.  During our hiatus from academia, I contemplated the possibilities of a romp with two babes.  In the mean time, nocturnal visions of Vanessa Williams, Jenna Jamison and I kept my dreams alive and my hand very busy.

            I don't recall how I landed my summer job, but all I can tell you is working the coat check room of Motown's number one male strip joint was a gig made in heaven.  Every night I'd rake in hundreds of dollars from beautiful, horny women who by the nights end were so hot and bothered they were desperate for any male contact.  Since all the dancers were gay, inaccessible or both, I became the last chosen man.  A position welcomed.

            I collected dozens of phone numbers and had so many dates I could never spend time with any one chick long enough to actually get them in bed.  But I didn't care.  That it, until I met Lisa.  She was a virtual vision of lust at first sight.

            Lisa was not just beautiful.  She was deep.  A regular academic genius.  Her brains alone made my dick hard.  On the night we met she told me I was the only real looking man she met all night and insisted we have a drink together...at my place.  Lady luck was on my side that now infamous evening because  my two roommates were gone for a week.

            Several Singapore slings later, we were climbing all over each other in a heat of bestial passion.  Mister happy was bursting threw my Fruit of the Looms and upon seeing this, Lisa said: see now I gotta fuck you.  I'm not buying you a new pair of underwear."

            And screw we did.  And that's pretty much all we did the next five months.  Our endless and shameless bouts of eroticism eventually yielded me the power to face man's greatest fear with the courage of Thor...commitment.  I already knew that the mere idea of monogamy has been known to cause impotence and insanity, but I didn't care.  Because among my many incentives, was an addiction to Lisa's wide array of uncontrollable pelvic gyrations.

            By Thanksgiving, I was thoroughly pussy-whipped and we were hopelessly in love.  Despite my happiness, I was suffering from an uncontrollable feeling of incompleteness.  My friends said it was just something gong around, but I wasn't taking any chances and sought professional help.  An hour after shelling out a hundred bucks to Detroit's top psychic, sister Beulah lifted her head from the gaze into a crystal ball and stared right at my crotch.

     "Young man its al clear to Sister Beulah", she began, you, you is suffering from an incontrollable sense of incompleteness.  I damn near slapped her.

            Soon it was Christmas time and word on the street was everybody who is anybody would be coming home this holiday.  And this idled rumored turned out to be good news for me because this meant the return of Maria, my ex-girlfriend.  She left her macrobiotic, lesbian, socialist commune in Nepal and came straight to my place.  After a fruitless hour of me trying to talk her into some mercy-booty for all times sake, we settled in to talk.

     "Ya know, for as long as I can remember you always wanted to try one thing, but still haven't done it." she began, "come on, it can't be that hard to get two women in bed at once.  You must feel so, so, incomplete."

     "I sure as hell do."  I confessed.

     "Well I wouldn't wait too long sweetie, I mean you could drop dead at any moment.  Do you know black men have the lowest life expectancy of anyone in America?."

            Of course, I knew that.  What brother doesn't know that?  But here's something about any white person speaking in terms of life expectancy that makes me very nervous.  Nevertheless I took a chance an indulge a whim.

     "let's say I find a woman who was ...willing...would you be interested in..."

     "Me?  Sure, if I like the girl." she replied with a wink of: set it up.

            After a week of not-so innocent scheming,  I slowly introduced  the idea to Lisa, I realized she could be talked into it...with a whole lot of luck.  All I needed was getting the girls to meet and be comfortable with each other.  This feat turned out to be easier than even thinking about it.  After meeting Lisa and Maria developed a quick friendship, Maria joined us in many nights of partying.  Then they went shopping together.  A time-honored stamp of official girlfriendhood.

            "She's a very sexy girl."  Maria said to me one day.  "We were at Victoria's Secret and she looked so hot in this bikini I went and bought it for her.  The thought of these two beautifies trying on swimwear had me in a desperate effort for composure.

            "I'm just glad you guys get along."  I managed.  Whew!

            That night I pried Lisa with a bong full of Humboldt County Heaven and repeated glasses of Châteaunuef du Pape.  I then shifted the conversation to sex.

            "My heart just bleeds for people who are sexually hung up."  I said carefully.

            "Me too." she added.

            "But I guess everybody is hung up about something."

            "Not this girl." she shot back, apart from animals, children, and blood, there's nothing I wouldn't do with you." she said with a smile.  "I mean what's wrong with a little healthy pervasion among consenting adults anyway?" nothing I could think of.  And if there was, I sure didn't want to know what it was.

     "But what about...ya know, sexual fantasies?"  I asked attempting to segway the conversation.

     "What about them?"

     "Surly you must have a few."

     "Of course, doesn't everybody/"

     "Okay, okay, share!"

     "Well, there is one thing I've always fantasized about but never did."

     "And what is it?'  I asked now a tad nervous because she was visibly embarrassed.

     "I can't... you'll think I'm sick!"

     "Impossible" I said", there's not one sick thing that could even enter your head."  She took a deep breath, lit a cigarette, gulped an entire glass of wine, and blurted out these words...

     "I've always wanted to try waterspouts."

     " What?  Water sports?  My innocent little Lisa into golden showers.  Now that really is sick.  I was logically, at a loss for words.  I just stared on stupidly until she shook me.

            "See I knew you'd react this way."

            "No, no, its cool, it's cool", I lied for lack of any better idea.  Then I proceeded to sick my foot yet further in my  big mouth by telling her I'd be happy to do that with her.

            "You wouldn't just say that would you?"

            "Of course not.  Tell me about it" I said bracing myself for tales of erotic peeing.  And Lisa went into precise detail right away.

            "Many a night I lay awake in bed imagining Gator aide being poured over my tits.  Diet Pepsi running out of my navel and fresh squeezed mango juice oozing from my pussy hairs."

            "let's do it all." I said more out of relief than desire.  So this is her idea of water sports?  And you think  you now a person.

            ten minutes later e were at Wufang's all night deli filling a shopping cart with an endless array of popular soft drinks and organic  juices.  Ten minutes after arriving at home, Lisa's body was swimming in a wide array of beverages.  She was in aquatic erotic heaven, and I was confused, but happy.  I seized the moments of her erotic ease and decided  to strike with my idea.

            "Sweetheart, do you happen to know what the term ménage a trios means?"

            "No, I was born a half hour ago.  Of course I do.  Isn't that everyman's fantasy?"

            "Okay, so it's not that creative."

            "I'll give ya that baby," she said.  "But tell me; am I one of the two chicks you fantasize about?"

            "Why no, I mean yes, I mean I would never dream of asking you to..."

            "And why not?" she said with a kind of scary anger, "I may not be a lesbian or even bisexual but don't sell me cheap".

            I couldn't believe it.  I asked my brain if my ears were just fucking with me.  Lisa grabbed a half gallon of carrot nectar I was holding and poured it all over her naked body.

            "I'll bet you like to see some redhead lick this off me wouldn't you?"

            Checkmate!  That night as we laid in bed I wondered, was it this easy for white men?  And if not, life truly is not fare.

            Within a weeks time I had introduced them and felt confident the wheels of potential a three-way lust fest were adequately in motion.  One night after dinner at Balthazar, I persuaded the tow girls to go for a walk.  I purposefully lead us over to Hudson Street and we were suddenly sanding right in front of Henrietta Hudson, a known lesbian hangout.

            Inside, the place was packed with some of the best-looking women I'd ever seen.  But I really was more concerned with keeping Lisa and Maria's glasses full.  They spent the time pointing out one beautiful chick after another to each other.  I was thinking, the lords of karma are truly on my side so far.  I decided to shrike.

            "Look, girls, its getting late, and we have to drive Maria all the way back to Canada."  I said to their minor disappointment.  But we left.  In the car, conversation took a turn for the unexpected.

            "I really got turned on looking at all those chicks."  Maria said.

            "Me too," Lisa whispered, giving me a look.

            "I just wish they were naked, that's all."

"Yeah."

            "Pardon me, but if you all really want to look at naked chicks why don't we just rent a movie.  I said like an idiot.  Surly my plans were becoming obvious.  But,

            "Oh baby that would be a great idea."  Lisa said with a triumphant smile.

            "I finally got a DVD player so... you know our guys can even stay over if you want."  Maria said looking directly at Lisa.

            We made a stop at Stains xxx video warehouse and left with where he Boys aren't 2, 7, 8, 12, 13 and a copy of Kobe loves Jenna.  As we breezed down I-75 towards the border, Maria fascinated Lisa with erotic stories of things that happened in her lesbian commune and it clearly turned her on.  So we cruised along.  I had a song in my heart and rocket in my pocket.  I hadn't a care in the world.  That is, until the Michigan State Police car pulled up beside me.  The officers peered inside my red Bug and it suddenly occurred to me that I was committing an a-101 offense: driving with two drunken white girls in the car.  A damn good excuse for breaking into the cold sweat I had broken into.  Wait a mine I thought.  I wasn't doing anything wrong.  What an I so nervous for?  I looked down at the speedometer, then over at the girls who were not laughing and waving at the two cops.  The flashing lights come on and they ell me too pull over.

            After stopping, I exited the car holding up my license, registration, and proof of insurance.  They took it but were more interested in the girls who sat motionless and repressing a giggles.

            "What did I do officer?"  I asked nervously.  "I'll bet I was driving too slowly.  Yeah, I do that on snowy days.  Ya know the car is so small and all..."  I babbled on but hey were evidently annoyed as they circled the car looking it over.  Finally the uglier one spotted something that put a slight grin on his face and whipped out his citation book.

            "See that?" he said, pointing to my cracked side view mirror, do you have any idea how many accidents a thing like that causes a year?"

            "Oh my gosh officer," I said going into a grateful-nigga routine.  "How can I thank you for pointing that out to me?"

            "My getting it fixed so I don't have to come and arrest you...boy."

            Boy?  What are we in the south now?  What ever, the most important thing is, he let us go.

            We hit the road again with the mood of earlier destroyed.  Judging by the looks on the girls faces, I knew there would be no French lessons tonight.  Then I did a double take of Maria.  She was frozen with terror.  Lisa noticed it and took her hand.

            "What's the matter with you girl?  You look like that bitch from night of the living dead.

"You sue do."  I added like a senselessness.

"For your information oh sensitive one," she said looking at me.  She then pulled a gigantic cigar sized joint from her brassier.  "I totally forgot I was carrying this."  Lisa reached in the back seat and took Maria's hand.

"You poor thing, you must have been freaked out of your mind."

"Man I was.  I was so frightened I came right in my panties."

"What?"  I shouted nearly running off the road.  " We were together four years and I never knew you had organisms when you got scared"

            "It didn't start happening until after we broke up."

            "It must be great."  Lisa said.

            To be honest, I do enjoy it most of the time."

            "Well now that it's all over just toss that thing out the window and we can..."

            "No way man." she shot back lighting up the refer.  "If I don't smoke this baby I'll start climbing the walls."

            "Yeah what's the big deal honey?"  Lisa ask me.

            "The deal is, we're about to enter a foreign country with a car reeking of marijuana."

            "Here, I'll roll down the window." she and Maria passed the joint back and worth and finished it just three blocks before we entered the Windsor / Detroit tunnel.  Now they were completely baked and having a mutual hysterics fest.  They were laughing over tales of graphic sex and I was frantically spaying the interior of the car with three different kinds of air cleaners.

            I drove up to the tollbooth, dropped in some cash and headed into the tunnel shaking like the national debt.  Maria and Lisa were busy a round of sing-along and bad jokes.  We exited and drove up to the Canadian customs window.  I fought to look the agent in the eye, but his eye was on Maria's barley covered legs.

            "Why are you coming to Canada?" he asked condescendingly.

            "Coming?...coming to Canada?"  Lisa laughed.

            "It's a verb Lisa.  To come."  Maria snorted out.

            The guy ask the question again.

            "Well if you must know, we are coming to Canada to buy some warn cloths for my dog." Maria blurted out causing them to crack up even harder.

            "I'll tell ya what, you just pull right over there and the nice man with the gun will tell you were you can buy some nice warm cloths for your doggie."

            A half hour later my poor beetle was completely stripped and I was put threw a round of twenty thousand dumb-ass questions.  The girls were in the corner being flirtatiously  interrogated, giggling and smoking with the boys on duty.  I, in the mean time was taken into a little room and stripped searched.  When I asked what he was looking for up my ass hole he said: "you might be a terrorist".  I may not know a lot about suicide bombers, but I've never yet heard of one hiding explosives up there.

            By the time I was dressed and released, the girls were long gone.  They left a note with Maria's

 Address: join us, if you ever get out of there.

            But I didn't go.  I thought it better that I go digging threw garbage cans in search of my dignity.

            The two did make love that night.  And many nights after that.  Not long after that, they moved to Santa Fe and I never heard from them again.

The End

Ménage A Trois and all contents in the collection titled You Always Hurt the One You Love is protected by the United States Copyright office.  Any publication, public performance, duplication or recording is prohibited without the written permission of the author G. Hipster.  Copyright 2009

This is am uncorrected proof.

2,891 words / Copyright 2004