As I sit here, sipping on the wonderful nectar that is a
Hoegaarden Belgian Wheat Beer, I realize that the stars have aligned yet again
and presented me with a topic to write on. I have a myriad of stories to tell,
many of which revolve around exactly what college was to me: a Ho Garden.
 |
| Notice the number of beers. Keep this on your noggin. |
In any
garden, especially that which is full of ho’s, there are many different
varieties of species. In college’s case, there are fat ones, skinny ones,
insane ones, depressed ones, attention seekers, trolls, slam-pieces,
dime-pieces, and one that I happened to encounter three times: those that enjoy
coitus in groups of three. (Ironic, I know.) Yes, I have participated in three
threesomes. College is the best time of
anyone’s life to experience with things, and I am pleased to say that I did
that. Unfortunately for me, two of these threesomes were of the devil’s
variety, meaning my buddy and I double teamed a chick, and the one with two
females… well, let’s just say they certainly weren’t slam-pieces. Yeah, these
were a combo of troll and insane. For now, I will elaborate on my experience
with the females, the other stories will come in due time.
I
receive a text at approximately 2:40 AM. I’m slam-bastered, talli-wagged, and
henceforthed. The text says that “the athlete” (yep, here she is again) and her
friend would like to do it weird style, essentially, a little menage-a-trois. Obviously,
I hop on over to their pad, as they are roommates, where I find them strumming
a ukulele and giggling amongst each other. They say that the night hasn’t gone
their way and they are horny and ready for some Bonefish-style sack wrasslin’.
It takes me a while to urge them forward to a bedroom, but once we get there,
things are going way smoother than I anticipated. So smooth, in fact, that once
they’re both naked and laying beneath my loins, I say “Damn, who first?” To
which the fatter, smellier one eagerly replies. Classic. From here, the
tri-coitus is like regular sex but more fun, even with uglier girls, because
there’s new positions and awesomeness to explore. I’m not trying to get people
to wank it here, so I’ll leave it out. (Except if you ever have a chance to get
double dome and don’t, you’re a regular Lance Bass.)
After
session one is where the highlight of this tale takes place. The ukulele comes
out. The laptop comes out. Chat roulette is entered in the web browser.
Multiple scrolls through people on webcams commence, all astonished that we are
naked, a group of three, putting ourselves online for the world to see… with a fucking
ukulele. It was funny at first, until there was a dude stroking his dolphin
across the interwebs, but displayed on our screen. The girls think that it will
be fun to let him direct us, like we’re some type of fucking pawn on a chess
board with sexual organs on display. He instructs them to touch me in certain
ways, and they obey. Big Brother was watching, and they gave in to his ways.
But not me, my friends!!! I am strong, both at heart and at mind! At first this
was a humorous gag, but after about a minute of this absurdity, with my soul 70
percent removed from my shock-afflicted body, I exited the browser and regained
any bit of dignity I had left. Big Brother would not be watching me today. No,
sir.
Then we
did round two.
Always
your boy,
Thaddeus
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