Tres Leches

Being a bartender and well-renounced server, there has always been a fascination of the number three. Wealthy elderly women preferred three olives in their extra dirty martinis, brides to be often wanted three cherries in their Absolute White Russians, newbies often wanted three pineapples or cherries on their barely alcoholic Pina Coladas. Three seemed to be the customary number everyone went to when in a haste to pick an easy number.

As if two just will not do.

I have had friends that fought over the notion that two people in a relationship for a while will get boring, as well as friends that argued the role of monogamy through sex and beyond; I also have friends who have argued that two holes are better than one, and adequately enough- three holes meets the goal. But I always chose to question, why wasn’t monogamy winning prosperously in the present day society, was it a battle between the single class and the ones in relationships overtaking them. Did people give up on finding ‘the one’ and instead fall for ‘the ones’? Or was it really all just mindless sex? Growing up in a society where Cinderella and Snow White- and even Tiana was idolized, what was the sense of looking for a Prince Charming when he carried around a +1? As for the ones who were bored in the bedroom, and separation just doesn’t seem like an option, give me this answer, when is the right time to call in an extra player?

 

“Well, I thought she was, but I guess she wanted me.”

One cozy Thursday I got a call to go over to a friends house for a few drinks and possibly a few blunts. I chose to indulge in the setting, knowing the topic of threesomes was just salivating at the tongue. As soon as we all stepped into Magenta’s apartment, everything worked as synchronization and before I could blink- blunts were being sparked and I already had a glass of cranberry and Ketel One. With each sip, I felt the overbearing topic spill back into the glass, almost until the word ‘threesomes’ was pouring from me like piss- until I finally said it. And to my surprise, I got several retaliations.

“Been there, done that.” Margaret was first to confess, she was a waiter on a cruise ship, just like Magenta- her boyfriend was a supervisor and it actually seemed to give her pointers on the sales floor. 

“Same.” Destiny cackled in the air. She seemed to have one of the most tasteful stories on her fingertips- I allowed her to speak freely.  “She- she just wanted him to watch.”

“Wait- what?!”

“Huh?” Everyone from the group looked at Destiny sideways, I was sure everyone had their suspicions about her, she had claimed ownership of a girl at one point, but- we weren’t sure if she had ever crossed the enchanting path of rainbows. Tasting another’s vagina & enjoying it pretty much seals your contract, at least in my eyes.

“So, she just wanted to be with you? Very much lesbian.”

“No, not very much- exactly like! Full on lesbian, she only wanted him to watch, ‘I don’t think that was the deal’ I said.”

“You giving me Ebony from The Player’s Club.”

“Did he just want to watch?” Magenta chimed in, she was perilous to this kind of talk, it thrived her mind stimulation, and she was dangerous when aroused.

“Of course he did, isn’t that what all men just want to do? Watching two women go at it in his own bed, us two lying in his filthy sheets for an hour worth of touching each other. It drives those beast insane, they even jerk off to us.”

“Unless you are bi-sexual, what woman will like anything like that?”

“Apparently Margaret- because she’s done it.” Destiny suggested. “Or maybe Magenta, she looks like she needs it.”

 

Ménage à twat

 

“He told me that the only way he would do it is if there was a girl involved,” said Taraji. He was a sue chef on another boat docked at one of these piers on the west side of Manhattan. It became so hard to keep track of all of the people I’ve met just walking down the pier while smoking. It was my own little icebreaker, but it gave me a lovely way to network. It was hard for our friendship to stay afloat with how busy our boats were going the summer, it seemed like the only time we got to hang out was in the winter, and most of it- he was training for some sort of annual marathon he does with his dad. Taraji had been in two other threesomes besides the one he was expressing now, which of none included a girl- except for this one. “We were texting about baseball games, he said he like the Mets but he is from New York, how could he not like the Yankees?” I shrugged, not knowing jack shit about the Yankees or baseball. I thought of introducing him to another one of my friends, Nicolas- but his next sentence forced me to yank his arm, shattering me from my thoughts, “Next thing I knew, we were talking about his balls.”   

“First off, the Mets are in New York, Taraji.” The group busted out in laughter. 

“The straight guy? You were talking about a straight man’s balls to the straight man, like in a sexual way?!”

“Well-”

“Well? Well, what the hell happened?”

“After we finished talking about his balls or after the threesome?”

“Wait!! You did it?” I couldn’t breathe, I wasn’t sure why I agreed to go jogging with him, especially on my only off day- I had no clue what motivated a person like me to get up at 11 am, to go running…

“I tried… He said ‘Man, you know I’m straight, but I would do it for you because you want it’, but I couldn’t do it.  I know me, even if I didn’t look or think about her, I would want him to myself, and he didn’t want me completely. I would be the one hurt at the end. She was gorgeous, just not anything I could see myself getting into- literally.”

“What a shame, he was so cute.” I sighed, thinking of my ability for persevering the thought of vagina for one of the most beautiful heterosexual guys I have ever seen, sadly- I didn’t feel one flinch in my trousers.

Eh. I tried.  

 

It’s my birthday, I will threeway if I want to!

 

On every going away or birthday, it seems every shipmate from each boat- pier 52 and down- travel to an Irish Pub on the west of 14th by the name of Mckennas. Tonight, we were saying a hearty happy birthday to one of the retired captains; Sean… Or was it Edgar, or Travis- who knew… These people really didn’t need an excuse to drink, you heard ‘Birthday’ and you knew the spot after work.

Everyone had gathered in clusters of groups, so it was hard to all have one big conversation, but in the group I was in, the conversation seemed to travel from two nights before as Rowen, a bartender for a private yacht on Pier 62, stumbled against our table, clanking down his glass and pressing his lips to my ear.

“Wanna talk about threesomes?” He yelled to the crowd, Captain Sean smiled broadly, holding up a thumb- his broad smile covered in metallic gold. I knew he was here, I just wasn’t sure if it was his birthday anymore. Rowen chuckled in laughter- coming back to meet our group’s faces. “This dude was my right-hand man, right? He says ‘Wanna go bang this b****’ I’m not going to say no, so we go all the way to Bed-Stuy bro, Brooklyn! Yo, long story short, he knows the shorty quite well and tells me when we get there that he can’t do it, he got feelings for the b****. I flipped yo.”

Rowen chuckled in laughter- coming back to meet our group’s faces. “This dude was my right-hand man, right? He says ‘Wanna go bang this b****’ I’m not going to say no, so we go all the way to Bed-Stuy bro, Brooklyn! Yo, long story short, he knows the shorty quite well and tells me when we get there that he can’t do it, he got feelings for the b****. I flipped yo.”

“That’s the problem, you can’t do it with people you are friends with, has to be spare of the moment and with bare players?” Randal butted in, he had begun to drop down a round of tequila shots. I kindly pushed mine towards Destiny.

“Players?” I asked.

“People who are just as much with the fun as you are.” Randal and Rowen gave each other a pound over the table, signifying the true antics of a common 21st-century man. “They are the ones you schedule a threeway with. Make sure they legit, though. Some don’t pull through.”

“Funny, that happened to me before, not in the same way but-”

“Wanna know the funny thing?” Rowen continued on after taking a swig from his mug of Heineken, “Never even wanted the girl, just wanted to go smoke. But we could’ve did that in Harlem, we didn’t have to go to BK. The kid was foolish.”

“So what did you do?” Destiny asked.

“What do you think I did? Stole the b***** wallet and got a cab home. My homie and me still tight, but I was looking at him funny for a while.”

“Because he caught feelings for a girl?” I asked, trying to see his insight.

“Nah, because he knew he had feelings for her from the time we got on the train bro, I’m not stupid. There’s not enough stops on the J train for you to fall in love that fast.”

“Maybe you’re right, but maybe you should’ve just taken the L.”

 

Why cheat when we can share?

 

After four more rounds of Jose Cuervo and three margaritas for me, we opened the conversation up to whoever wanted to join. There were two who stepped up almost admittedly- a pair of guys who were known around the scene to be dating but had an open relationship I’m assuming from the way they flirted with others. Leo and Devon. They were both in the old captain’s staff and had come to the bar to celebrate his birthday- Leo, a man of some latino descent, he felt comfortable in the conversation- often playing in on our words, twisting them so that someone might blush in sexual flare, he got off on the embarrassment- and it seemed his boyfriend got off on watching the whole array happen. I had first dismissed the both of them when I walked in at first, but now that I knew who they were and knew a little of their story, I almost wanted to know more.

“He likes it,” Leo started, he licked his lips as he talked, even towards the girls he was a tremendous flirt. “When another guy is pinning me on the bed, he yells at him to go faster, sometimes he even pushes them more into me. Sometimes we do someone together,” He broke off to laugh a bit, leaning against his silent boyfriend in faux humiliation, “Babe, you remember that girl we had? She was so freaky, she ate him out while he fucked me!” Rowen almost choked on his drink, excusing himself from the table at this moment.

“Same, this too much for me. I’ll be back.” Randal shook his head, laughing it off.

“And then you guys pounded her together?!” Magenta asked eagerly.

“Ugh, I just can’t! It’s too much, too much going on, every angle feels like it’s being taken over.” Margaret shouted in the bar, making us all jolt in laughter. “Two girls, yes. But two guys, sausage invasion.”

“Hey, ever heard of the saying ‘one in the pink hole, another in the stink hole?'” As soon as he had said this, we had all walked away, the same way Rowen and Randal had done.

 

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