Before I met Jill, I don’t think I ever entertained a threesome fantasy that didn’t involve myself and two women. In other words, while I knew that a threesome could conceivably involve two men and one woman, I couldn’t really see myself fantasizing about such a thing, or actively seeking it out. It’s not that I was squeamish or afraid of the idea of being in a threesome where another man was involved – after all, there are plenty of things two guys can do with a woman without actually touching each other – it just wasn’t my preferred scenario. I always found the fantasy of two women much more appealing. And why wouldn’t I? Women are just plain hotter than men. Which is why the thought of not one but two gorgeous women having me all to themselves, ideally after they’ve warmed each other up, is quite possibly the pinnacle of sexual fantasy.

However, when I was twenty-six, I came closer than I had ever come before, or since, to having a threesome with a married couple. I’ll call them Jerry and Julie. Jerry was a former co-worker of mine, and Julie was his wife. I spent many an evening hanging out at their house, drinking, playing video games, and watching television. Sometimes there was a small crowd, including Jerry’s high school friends, co-workers, and next-door neighbors; other times it was just me, Jerry and Julie. But whoever was there, Julie was always the center of attention. She was twenty-two, head-to-toe sexy, and she knew it. When she was in the room, it was a good bet that any straight guy present was thinking about having sex with her, no matter what she was wearing or how she looked. Thoughts of her pouting lips and killer body had gotten me through many a dry spell and I, like most of their guy friends no doubt, frequently fantasized about her.

I never got the impression that Jerry and Julie had an open relationship or anything like that, nor did I have the sense that Julie was interested in women at all. In spite of her tendency to point out attractive women on television, she was way too attracted to men. She liked to flirt with just about any guy who came over. Nothing too forward, mind you; for Julie it was sufficient to add a sexy lilt to her voice when greeting a male guest, lean over to flaunt her bountiful cleavage when handing him a drink, or maintain eye contact a few seconds longer than necessary when saying good night. I ate it up.

One Friday night, the three of us hung out in their living room, watching a DVD. In the six years since that night, the movie we were watching was forgotten, although I vividly remember the long T-shirt that Julie was wearing. I remember how it reached her knees, and I remember wondering if she was wearing anything underneath. In fact, it’s safe to say that I found it hard to focus on the DVD.

About halfway through the movie, Julie got up from the couch and took the empty popcorn bowl into the kitchen. Jerry went to help her, taking with him our empty glasses. I sat on the couch, staring at the paused image on the television screen, and after a couple minutes Jerry called out to me.

“Hey bro,” he shouted. “Come in here for a minute.”

In the kitchen, I found Julie perched atop a chair on her hands and knees. That long shirt she’d been wearing all night was hiked up past her hips, revealing a tiny black thong and a full round ass. Her back was arched, that beautiful ass staring me right in the face. Jerry stood in front of her. His shirt was still on, but his pants were down, gathered in a bunch at his feet. I stood in the doorway for a second, taking in what I’d stumbled upon – no! What I’d been invited to watch! – and then I stepped into the room for a better look.

As I moved closer to the kitchen table, Julie reached behind her, ostensibly to ensure that her shirt wasn’t obstructing my view of her ass, naked save for a tiny strip of fabric. Although I definitely liked what I was seeing, I wanted to move around the table and get a better look at what she was doing to Jerry, even if it meant having to see his cock. Jerry didn’t seem to care, and besides, I’d thought about Julie giving me oral sex for so long that seeing Jerry naked wasn’t going to ruin this moment.

I moved so that the table was between them and me, and watched Julie as she licked and sucked her husband’s cock. She didn’t use her hands at all, preferring to let her mouth and Jerry’s hips do all the work. At Jerry’s suggestion, Julie stopped going down on him just long enough to lose the thong. She stepped down from the chair, locking eyes with me as she slid her panties to the floor. She kicked them toward the kitchen doorway, then climbed onto the chair and got back to work. They put on an incredibly exciting show, and though instinct dictated that I downplay my own arousal, it wasn’t long before I was kneading my hard-on through my jeans, barely able to contain myself. In fact, it was a testament to my remarkable self-control that I kept my pants buttoned and zipped.

“You gotta get a look at that ass,” Jerry told me as his wife continued to wantonly devour his cock. Further urging was unnecessary, and I returned to my earlier vantage point, happy to gaze at his wife’s backside. As her head moved up and down on Jerry’s cock, her ass wobbled ever so slightly, and the sight made me even harder than I already was. When I offered praise, Julie moved a hand between her legs and opened her pussy with two fingers. All I could think about was dropping my jeans and thrusting into her as deeply as I could go, then repeating until I came. As it was, the visual I was enjoying would undoubtedly add much to the fantasy that I was going to use to get off that night.

The show continued for about half an hour, and I moved around the room to get a better view as necessary. At one point Julie actually masturbated, something I thought about very often. The fact that she masturbated wasn’t exactly a secret, but I frequently wondered how she did it. I never imagined that I’d get to see for myself. I was surprised by the intensity and urgency of her motions, and the thought of giving her a helping hand was exciting. Jerry came silently, something I didn’t even realize had occurred until Julie left the room to spit. In my fantasies Julie always swallowed, or at the very least let me come on her, but I liked the fact that she at least let him come in her mouth. Jerry pulled up his pants and we went back to the living room and sat on the couch. The room was silent for a couple minutes. I literally had no idea what to say.

Finally Jerry spoke: “What did you think?”

“That was really hot,” I said. “Thanks for letting me watch.”

Julie came out of the bedroom, still wearing her nightshirt, as well as a pair of gray sweatpants. It occurred to me that her black thong was still lying on the kitchen floor. “Okay,” she said, and Jerry put the movie back on. If I found it difficult to concentrate on the movie before, it was now impossible.

It was some time later that Jerry told me of the opportunity I had missed that night, and the signals I had been oblivious to. He wasn’t upset or anything, but I never did get another opportunity. It occurred to me that another of Jerry’s friends had probably been given the same shot and took it. I can’t honestly say that I would have joined Jerry and Julie had I actually been asked, or had I been bold enough to understand what they wanted of me. I’d like to think that I would have. After all, such chances don’t come along every day.

For the record I still do fantasize about threesomes involving myself and two gorgeous women. Jill is one of them, of course.

-Jack

We were originally planning an entry on sex toys for yesterday or today, but Jill’s work schedule has made it impossible for her to write anything, and unfortunately she’ll probably be too busy through the end of the week to write anything beyond the briefest of entries. She’ll probably get around to it when her schedule allows, but in the meantime I figured I’d fill the void and write about something else, namely porn and pizza.

We held our first porn and pizza party in summer of 2006. We’d been talking about doing it for at least six months, half-joking, in whispered conversations with friends who, like us, watched porn and weren’t too “proper” to talk about it. I’d gotten the idea from a 2002 movie called Porn ‘n Chicken, based on a club at Yale University that would gather regularly to watch porn and eat Popeye’s Chicken. Since I like pizza better than I like chicken – and since the resulting change was alliterative and therefore catchier-sounding – I began talking about having a porn and pizza party.

At the first party, which we held at Jill’s place, we ordered a couple pizzas from a local restaurant we both liked, and served wine, beer and liquor in addition to soda and water. We watched a couple movies from our DVD collection, and sort of heckled the bad dialogue and plot contrivances, while no doubt wishing we were all tipsy enough to have a giant orgy. When the pizza was eaten and the movies were over, those still sober enough to drive left, while those who weren’t crashed in the guest room (and you know who you are).

Our second porn and pizza party took place in December of 2006. We tried to make it a Christmas-themed affair, but I was only able to find one holiday-related film to show; the other movies we planned to show were unrelated. However, keeping with the theme, we played ambient Christmas music at a low volume throughout the evening. Pizza and libations were more or less the same as they had been at the previous party, and once again we began by watching the movies, laughing at the incompetent acting and dialogue, eating pizza and killing a few bottles of wine.

By the time the pizza was eaten or put away, we had moved on to our second movie of the night. So focused was I on the on-screen happenings that I was the last to notice that it had grown quiet in the room, thanks to two of our guests putting on their own live-action porn film on the couch. Their display, which consisted of the wife giving oral sex to the husband, had everyone else’s attention, and after processing what was happening the rest of us quickly followed suit. After awhile, it was clear that the party had to move to its next logical stage, but no one knew how to start. Finally someone asked if they could use the guest bed. We all went to our own neutral corners, as it were, with Jill and I retreating to our room, and the other couple taking the couch. It was definitely the most fun Christmas party I can remember.

We held our third party in April of last year. Other than the Christmas music, it happened pretty much like the previous one: Porn on television, pizza, wine and beer, followed by head on the couch and sex in private. I would have loved to have had the nerve to suggest that we all stay in the living room, but I figured that if anyone else was into that idea, surely someone would have brought it up. Once we were in our room, going at it wantonly on the bed, the sounds – as well as the thoughts – of what our guests were doing elsewhere, proved an amazing turn-on, leading to what Jill said at the time was the most intense orgasm she had ever had. And me, too.

We hoped to have subsequent parties a bit more often, but our move out of the area (and renting Jill’s old place) meant getting together with our friends less often than we would like. The closest we’ve come was when we had one couple over for dinner and drinks this past New Year’s Eve. There was no pizza, and no plans for porn until the other husband suggested it. We watched a movie until about five minutes to midnight, when we switched it to one of the local stations so we could watch the countdown to the New Year. We planned to put the movie back on, and hopefully have some same-room oral sex at the very least, but by the time we were through watching whichever flavor-of-the-week band was performing on delay from New York, our guests were exhausted and went to bed. It was, very likely, the end of a (short-lived) era.

On the rare occasion that another porn and pizza party is brought up, it’s back to being spoken of in a whispered, half-joking manner. Nonetheless, these get-togethers were exhilarating and fun, and help reinforce the notion that having sex in the next room can be just as hot as doing it in the very same room.

-Jack