Threesome's a crowd!
Aug. 17th, 2010 10:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jack_babalonThe closest I ever came to a three-way was back in the day when I was DJing fetish nights at a club called the Secret Chamber.
Suffering from a terrible stage fright, one that was only numbed by the alcohol, I usually worked the opening to midnight set. There was less of a crowd then and it helped the spin jitters that hit with the strength of a two gallon espresso shot. Not that night though. Jericho Sinn, an old friend and the club's promoter, needed me to do the closing set. Turns out the regular rotation of DJs ran dry that week, leaving him with me and some earnest rookie who had never spun outside his bedroom before. So that meant Sinn needed the more experienced of the two to do the crucial closing set.
Don't get me wrong. I've done closers before, but they scare the shit out of me. Sneering scene hipsters with ears cocked for the slightest flaw in the mix. Belligerent drunks demanding their requests now or else. Last minute tune changes in the show and being given a CD to play by a friend of a friend of the promoter whose requested song not only skips but the cunt didn't even bother to dance to it anyway!
In time I'll learn to audio juggle under pressure, but at that moment I was what we would call in Geekinese a second level DJ at best.
Wait, where was I?
Oh yeah, the threesome...
... well, keeping me company up in that booth was my significant other, Emma. Emma didn't vibe the scene quite the same as I did. She thrived on a steady diet of Flaming Lips, BBC comedies and devouring any book she could lay her hands on. For the most part she didn't care much for the life fetish, finding it 'interesting' at best, and only showed up at the Secret Chamber events to keep me company.
Emma was built like one sexy hobbit. Short and curvaceous with just the slightest hint of a belly. Big apple cheeks that shined off a shy smile. Short brown hair sensibly parted with a barrette. Generously chested and delightfully wide of hip. She preferred to dress in earth tones, with a modest amount of cleavage flashed between a thrift store dress.
Unfortunately, in the 'Scene', that marked her as both vanilla and verboten.
I didn't care, so long as she was up there in the booth with me.
During the home stretch of the set, immediately after last call which meant everyone was too fucked up by now to care what they were dancing to so long as they were dancing to it, this amazonian stacked and cherry-bomb dyed red head came into the booth.
She chatted me up between tracks, flattering me subtle and giving me stray swigs off her flask. Her name was Maggie Empire, she was some sort of OTO cat and burgeoning DJ. When I caught Emma bristling at her stray hands being laid on me, I quickly ambled out of the lust hole and introduced her as my woman. Maggie didn't blink and swooped up Emma in a big hug, declaring her to be absolutely adorable and 'good-enough-to-eat'.
Maggie hipped us both to some sort of after-party at her place. Emma hemmed and hawed, claiming it had been a long week and she needed some sleep. However I was still restless drunk and promptly agreed on both our behalf. Normally, I'd be glad to go home to some mad monkey sex with the Lust Hobbit. Unfortunately, Emma and I's love live had been, not suffering, but settling gently into a rut. Going home at best meant a bite to eat and falling asleep in bed while she watched Law & Order reruns. At least at a party, I might get a little high and Emma might break down and have a drink and maybe, just maybe, I'd get lucky when we crawled back home.
So, after the club shut down and Sinn paid me out, Emma and I hopped in her lemon drop Volvo to make our way to the big 'after party.'
The drive wasn't far, a modest apartment complex off Virginia Highland, just shy of Mid Town. Why we barely had time to really get into the fight that raged between us the whole ride over.
When we arrived, it was to an unlocked door, one tacked with a note that read - 'come on in.' In for a penny, in for a pound, so we strolled on in to what turned out to be a rather impressive and lavish two story apartment. There was no on the first floor, so we climbed the stairs to a massive staging area of a living room with crimson walls spackled with gold and a wide ceiling whose skylight aided the candles providing the room's sole illumination. At that moment it occurred to us that we were the after-party.
It was then that Maggie slipped out of an hitherto unseen bedroom; dressed in a green kimono and as far as I could tell nothing else. I immediately started stammering out an excuse to leave, noting that Emma was quite visibly furious (even through the soft orange gloom) at the implications behind the invitation.
Maggie defused the situation diplomatically, she claimed that there was another after party that everyone else must've decided to go to and begged us to stay for at least a drink, so she didn't feel like a complete social pariah.
We agreed reluctantly, taking a seat on her mod flavored couch and sitting there with the quiet nervousness of freshly scalded children.
Maggie sat between us and served her drinks strong. Once Emma sipped hers it was like Persephone in Hades - one taste and she was in for the long haul. A single drink became a second, two became three and after that we just started passing the bottle. Maggie got Emma to open up. Asking her about the graphic design business she worked for and the community college classes she wanted to take and her childhood in San Diego... while the whole time she rubbed my thigh. Eventually she said something that had Emma laughing and it was then that Maggie turned around and yanked me into a long, sensuous kiss that ended with a sharp bite across the tongue. I came out of it shocked... but not as shocked at Emma who was about to say something when Maggie turned around, and in one fluid motion, delivered an equally long kiss.
When the two parted Emma gasped and then it was back to me.
Then back to her.
Then me...
... then her.
Then still her; as Maggie popped a breast free out Emma's dress, kneading the nipple expertly while Emma in turn took her by the back of the hair and pulled the two of the down across the remainder of the couch.
I stood there transfixed, lesbotized and hick-stupified.
A part of me wanted to protest, but that part was a distant voice shouting from a few thousand miles away. Focused as Maggie slid her hand up Emma's thigh, watching as it vanished under the folds of the receding dress. Paralyzed while Emma broke off from the kiss to force feed Maggie her breast, which she did with an abandoned. I listened with rapt horror and a terrible yearning as Emma released a moan that, to my shame (to my sweet-sweet tasting shame), I had never quite been able to elicit in my own efforts.
Eventually Maggie stood up without looking at me and pulled Emma towards her. Emma just stood there in a delirious post-orgasm coma and blinked doe eyed.
"Take off your dress" Maggie ordered.
"Alright, enough's enough..." I got to interrupt, but Maggie pushed me back down into the couch as Emma obeyed without a word, slithering out of her outfit.
"The rest!" Maggie hissed with a wicked smile.
Emma unhooked the bra and slid down her panties until they reached the ankles.
At that moment, Maggie leaned in and hooked a single forefinger deep into Emma's cleft, turned around and led Emma towards her room.
"Hey!" I shouted and the two stopped as one, but only Maggie turned around to face me.
"You can sit there and listen in... or you can find your own way home."
"Emma!" I shouted, as Maggie led my woman back into her room. The door closed. The deafening click of a lock.
I stood there in impotent, well not 'impotent', rage.
Through the walls I listened to Emma scream rapturously and the bestial growls of her new lover.
When it was over an hour had passed and it was already sunrise. I waited for one of them to come out but they never did. Eventually I found my own way out and made my way out, walking two miles before I could find a cab to blow my DJ cash on a cab ride back to my place.
Naturally Emma and I broke up. Well, not officially, I never called her and she never called me. Through a mutual friend, we exchanged back the shit we had stored at each others pad, and that was it. I never saw either Maggie, nor Emma for that matter, at the club. It wasn't until years later that I would troll across Emma's Facebook account. She was statused as in a relationship with some guy and posting Farmville requests. No sign of Maggie, or anyone who looked like her, in Emma's friends.
Sometimes I write out these long letters to her asking what happened that night, was it me or her or some combination of the two? But then I realize that I don't really want to know the answer and delete it before sending.
However, some nights, when I'm alone and frisky and the little lady's gone for the evening, I'll slip back in my mind to that night. Hovering above them, as I did then, as an invisible specter, a mute ghost in someone else’s haunted house. There I'll replay the scene, over and over, enhancing and slowing down the details. Until... the spark exhausts and I'm left shivering helpless in my sweat and regret.
And that, that was the closest I've ever come to having been in a threesome
Suffering from a terrible stage fright, one that was only numbed by the alcohol, I usually worked the opening to midnight set. There was less of a crowd then and it helped the spin jitters that hit with the strength of a two gallon espresso shot. Not that night though. Jericho Sinn, an old friend and the club's promoter, needed me to do the closing set. Turns out the regular rotation of DJs ran dry that week, leaving him with me and some earnest rookie who had never spun outside his bedroom before. So that meant Sinn needed the more experienced of the two to do the crucial closing set.
Don't get me wrong. I've done closers before, but they scare the shit out of me. Sneering scene hipsters with ears cocked for the slightest flaw in the mix. Belligerent drunks demanding their requests now or else. Last minute tune changes in the show and being given a CD to play by a friend of a friend of the promoter whose requested song not only skips but the cunt didn't even bother to dance to it anyway!
In time I'll learn to audio juggle under pressure, but at that moment I was what we would call in Geekinese a second level DJ at best.
Wait, where was I?
Oh yeah, the threesome...
... well, keeping me company up in that booth was my significant other, Emma. Emma didn't vibe the scene quite the same as I did. She thrived on a steady diet of Flaming Lips, BBC comedies and devouring any book she could lay her hands on. For the most part she didn't care much for the life fetish, finding it 'interesting' at best, and only showed up at the Secret Chamber events to keep me company.
Emma was built like one sexy hobbit. Short and curvaceous with just the slightest hint of a belly. Big apple cheeks that shined off a shy smile. Short brown hair sensibly parted with a barrette. Generously chested and delightfully wide of hip. She preferred to dress in earth tones, with a modest amount of cleavage flashed between a thrift store dress.
Unfortunately, in the 'Scene', that marked her as both vanilla and verboten.
I didn't care, so long as she was up there in the booth with me.
During the home stretch of the set, immediately after last call which meant everyone was too fucked up by now to care what they were dancing to so long as they were dancing to it, this amazonian stacked and cherry-bomb dyed red head came into the booth.
She chatted me up between tracks, flattering me subtle and giving me stray swigs off her flask. Her name was Maggie Empire, she was some sort of OTO cat and burgeoning DJ. When I caught Emma bristling at her stray hands being laid on me, I quickly ambled out of the lust hole and introduced her as my woman. Maggie didn't blink and swooped up Emma in a big hug, declaring her to be absolutely adorable and 'good-enough-to-eat'.
Maggie hipped us both to some sort of after-party at her place. Emma hemmed and hawed, claiming it had been a long week and she needed some sleep. However I was still restless drunk and promptly agreed on both our behalf. Normally, I'd be glad to go home to some mad monkey sex with the Lust Hobbit. Unfortunately, Emma and I's love live had been, not suffering, but settling gently into a rut. Going home at best meant a bite to eat and falling asleep in bed while she watched Law & Order reruns. At least at a party, I might get a little high and Emma might break down and have a drink and maybe, just maybe, I'd get lucky when we crawled back home.
So, after the club shut down and Sinn paid me out, Emma and I hopped in her lemon drop Volvo to make our way to the big 'after party.'
The drive wasn't far, a modest apartment complex off Virginia Highland, just shy of Mid Town. Why we barely had time to really get into the fight that raged between us the whole ride over.
When we arrived, it was to an unlocked door, one tacked with a note that read - 'come on in.' In for a penny, in for a pound, so we strolled on in to what turned out to be a rather impressive and lavish two story apartment. There was no on the first floor, so we climbed the stairs to a massive staging area of a living room with crimson walls spackled with gold and a wide ceiling whose skylight aided the candles providing the room's sole illumination. At that moment it occurred to us that we were the after-party.
It was then that Maggie slipped out of an hitherto unseen bedroom; dressed in a green kimono and as far as I could tell nothing else. I immediately started stammering out an excuse to leave, noting that Emma was quite visibly furious (even through the soft orange gloom) at the implications behind the invitation.
Maggie defused the situation diplomatically, she claimed that there was another after party that everyone else must've decided to go to and begged us to stay for at least a drink, so she didn't feel like a complete social pariah.
We agreed reluctantly, taking a seat on her mod flavored couch and sitting there with the quiet nervousness of freshly scalded children.
Maggie sat between us and served her drinks strong. Once Emma sipped hers it was like Persephone in Hades - one taste and she was in for the long haul. A single drink became a second, two became three and after that we just started passing the bottle. Maggie got Emma to open up. Asking her about the graphic design business she worked for and the community college classes she wanted to take and her childhood in San Diego... while the whole time she rubbed my thigh. Eventually she said something that had Emma laughing and it was then that Maggie turned around and yanked me into a long, sensuous kiss that ended with a sharp bite across the tongue. I came out of it shocked... but not as shocked at Emma who was about to say something when Maggie turned around, and in one fluid motion, delivered an equally long kiss.
When the two parted Emma gasped and then it was back to me.
Then back to her.
Then me...
... then her.
Then still her; as Maggie popped a breast free out Emma's dress, kneading the nipple expertly while Emma in turn took her by the back of the hair and pulled the two of the down across the remainder of the couch.
I stood there transfixed, lesbotized and hick-stupified.
A part of me wanted to protest, but that part was a distant voice shouting from a few thousand miles away. Focused as Maggie slid her hand up Emma's thigh, watching as it vanished under the folds of the receding dress. Paralyzed while Emma broke off from the kiss to force feed Maggie her breast, which she did with an abandoned. I listened with rapt horror and a terrible yearning as Emma released a moan that, to my shame (to my sweet-sweet tasting shame), I had never quite been able to elicit in my own efforts.
Eventually Maggie stood up without looking at me and pulled Emma towards her. Emma just stood there in a delirious post-orgasm coma and blinked doe eyed.
"Take off your dress" Maggie ordered.
"Alright, enough's enough..." I got to interrupt, but Maggie pushed me back down into the couch as Emma obeyed without a word, slithering out of her outfit.
"The rest!" Maggie hissed with a wicked smile.
Emma unhooked the bra and slid down her panties until they reached the ankles.
At that moment, Maggie leaned in and hooked a single forefinger deep into Emma's cleft, turned around and led Emma towards her room.
"Hey!" I shouted and the two stopped as one, but only Maggie turned around to face me.
"You can sit there and listen in... or you can find your own way home."
"Emma!" I shouted, as Maggie led my woman back into her room. The door closed. The deafening click of a lock.
I stood there in impotent, well not 'impotent', rage.
Through the walls I listened to Emma scream rapturously and the bestial growls of her new lover.
When it was over an hour had passed and it was already sunrise. I waited for one of them to come out but they never did. Eventually I found my own way out and made my way out, walking two miles before I could find a cab to blow my DJ cash on a cab ride back to my place.
Naturally Emma and I broke up. Well, not officially, I never called her and she never called me. Through a mutual friend, we exchanged back the shit we had stored at each others pad, and that was it. I never saw either Maggie, nor Emma for that matter, at the club. It wasn't until years later that I would troll across Emma's Facebook account. She was statused as in a relationship with some guy and posting Farmville requests. No sign of Maggie, or anyone who looked like her, in Emma's friends.
Sometimes I write out these long letters to her asking what happened that night, was it me or her or some combination of the two? But then I realize that I don't really want to know the answer and delete it before sending.
However, some nights, when I'm alone and frisky and the little lady's gone for the evening, I'll slip back in my mind to that night. Hovering above them, as I did then, as an invisible specter, a mute ghost in someone else’s haunted house. There I'll replay the scene, over and over, enhancing and slowing down the details. Until... the spark exhausts and I'm left shivering helpless in my sweat and regret.
And that, that was the closest I've ever come to having been in a threesome