Photo by The Dirty Gentleman

Photo by The Dirty Gentleman

“Should I wear a horn?” I teased.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he said.

“I’m just saying, if I come over and fuck you both, do I need to wear a horn? My full unicorn costume is at the cleaners, but I can pull something together. You know, me being your unicorn and all, It’ll make me feel magical.” I played it totally deadpan for a second, and I could see the irritation in his eyes.

“Look, if you want to be a dick about this, we’ll find someone else.”

“No, I’m in,” I said quickly. I wanted to tease him, but hell, I didn’t want him to back out. I had wanted to fuck them both for too long for me to screw it up, but that didn’t mean my natural inclinations to be a huge pain in the ass weren’t going to come through. You can’t just ask your best friend to come fuck you and your wife without earning a bit of teasing in return.

“Well, don’t be a dick tonight. I mean, bring your dick, but don’t be one. She’s sensitive, you know? She’s already nervous enough, I don’t want her to freak out at the last minute because you can’t stop being ridiculous long enough to fuck her.”

“Oh, I get to fuck her, too? I thought I was just going to nail your pretty little ass while she watched. Or maybe that’s another friend. What are we doing again?”

“Just be there at eight and don’t be a tool. And no, she isn’t going to just watch. She wants something. You know, that thing you can only do with two guys.”

“An Eiffel Tower?” I asked.

“Only if that means my dick is in her ass while you fuck her cunt,” he said. Was it possible he didn’t actually know what an Eiffel Tower was? He watched porn, right? I knew they hadn’t done anything like this before, but that didn’t mean he was totally out of it. Shit, what was I getting myself into? I mean, other than some DP, a couple of free beers, and hopefully some straight virgin man ass.

“Don’t worry, man,” I said reassuringly. “I’ll be there, and I’ll be perfectly sweet and it’s going to be awesome. I’ll even be gentle with you. I promise. Just have a few glasses of wine before I get there and listen to Marvin Gaye or something. It’s all going to be fine.”

He hung up with a grunt, and I wondered for a second if maybe I had pushed it too far. It was unlikely, seeing as I didn’t know the meaning of too far, but still. He was a cautious guy, and you never know with straight people. They get hung up on all sorts of things. First it’s “fuck my wife, but don’t make her like it too much.” And then it’s all “oh no, please don’t make me swallow your cum while I’m kneeling on the floor in her underwear.” There’s just no telling what’s going to happen and how they’re going to react.

But I took my time, and prepared anyway. Being prepared for a threesome is a bit like preparing for Thanksgiving dinner. You shouldn’t be brining anything, but you have to be ready for whatever happens. What if Uncle Ralph’s new girlfriend is a vegan with a gluten thing? And what if Cousin Tom is not drinking wine this year and is only eating turkeys he’s met in real life again? So I shaved my balls, showered, brushed my teeth, ironed a t-shirt, and made sure not to put aftershave on anywhere someone might lick me. I polished my shoes, made my hair look like I had slept on it, and did twenty-five pushups. By the time I was ready to leave, I had a bag packed with lube, condoms, a riding crop, advanced anal beads, and a bottle of Power’s Irish Whisky. I popped a Viagra, downed a shot of espresso, and headed out the door.

Pete buzzed me in after asking for the password through the intercom. I don’t know who has a password for threesomes, but he said Mara required it. Just to be safe. I walked up the four flights of stairs, making sure not to get out of breath on the way, and I ate an Altoid before I walked in the door. No one wants Viagraspresso breath when they kiss you for the first time. The two of them looked like they were ready for a cocktail party, and so did their apartment. There was an open bottle of wine, another one next to it, and two almost empty glasses on the table. I kissed Mara in greeting, making an effort not to squeeze her ass too soon, and I shook Pete’s hand like a man. Like a big straight man. Like a man not about to get naked with another man. This was going just fine.

(note: I read the full piece at Dirty Boys on Sunday March 22nd. The whole thing will be on the podcast and probably in a book sometime in the future.)