He Wasn't Mine

Davie had had me only once at the time, and this incident was even before he had taken me from behind and changed my view on that most inauspicious and feared topic, anal sex.

Jill was always a whore. She was attention starved and needed everyone to see her; every moment of the day and in every way. She was jealous. She was not cultured. She was my best friend. Its not to say that this means that we're no longer friends (we are) but that I'm just honest about people, including myself. Brutally so.

Jill wanted love, she wanted affection but she was always getting used and crying about it later. When she met Davie, I knew that there was going to be a problem and that it was definitely going to be very complicated very soon. I didn't really care about Davie emotionally, he was a friend and I had fucked him once, but I bore no affection nor internal attachment to him just to clear it all up beforehand.

The weapons of mass destruction have been found...

The night of the big party at Jill's everyone was tanked and that included Jill and Davie. I try to always be a lady, but I had also partaken very deeply of the riches of the party and wasn't in a perfect cognitive state. After we helped about twenty people out the door and into their now weapon-ready vehicles the three of us parked in Jill's room. Once she laid on the bed, she was out and I was just fine with lying on the couch, Davie's hands securely occupied under my skirt.

My breathing was sedate and dream like, my head spun and my skin felt hot and downy. I felt his broad muscular shoulders over me, his lips plying at my neck, my cheeks, my lips. I was in an intoxicated calm and I felt as if I was humming though I was silent except for the occasional sigh or half-hearted moan. My whole body spun as Davie slid into me totally unexpectedly. First of all, I'd like to point out three things:

1. Jill was about 10 feet away from us passed out and this was her room.
2. Sufficient planning nor warning was given to me before the invasion occurred.
3. ....I had been drinking (do guys still use alcohol to ply girls thighs open?).

Aside from the fact that fuck-etiquette had been violated, I let it pass out of my mind as his rhythm found a secure slide. My legs clamped around his torso as he gently slicked in and out of me, his cock finding a home to exercise in an untroubled environment. I started some random giggling and couldn't stop, Davie oblivious and lost to his coital machinations. I laughed as he finished inside of me, his body finding that limp moment and spending itself in a second. He half heartedly kissed my chest, his hand wrapped around his cock and its little protective sleeve, now filled with swimming life force.

I fell mostly asleep, noticing that Davie had wondered over to Jill passed out on her bed, her legs curled up to her stomach like a sick child in her chemically induced sleep. My mind drifted into sleep but was suddenly interrupted by Davie pulling me up by my arms,

God damn it Davie, stop interrupting me! Ack!

My vocal reserve evades me when in an alcoholic state, and yes I did say "Ack!" at the time. He pulled me down onto this huge four person bean bag that people call "Love Sacks", which is actually very comical considering the outcome of this little tale. Davie had successfully roused Jill and she lie resting on one side of the bean bag, her hair squished into her face all confused and moist looking. At the time I thought; Awe, how sweet. He wants me to lay with her to look after her in her vulnerable state. Not so fast, panda bear.

He knelt in front of the bean bag facing us, his hands on my stomach and my thighs, caressing me gently, plying me. I tried to shrug him off and go to sleep when I noticed him pulling off Jill's skin tight black pants. I watched in awed horror as he pulled down his panties and started licking her shaved little unconscious kitten. My mind was livid but my body and my lips were sluggish, they were drugged and I was more far gone than I had earlier surmised.

I moaned as his thumb ground smoothly over my clit, hard and slick from his ardent fucking about ten minutes previous. I moaned, my back arching tightly beneath me. My eyes shot open when I realized what was going on and looked over to Jill. She was no longer passed out, but responsive to Davie's mouth on her, as her mouth opened slowly and a soft moan issued. She looked at me and giggled, apparently amused and willing to go on.

Its not that I'm not a three-some girl, its that I'm an emotional creature when it comes to my friends. Jill and I had been friends since we were seven years old and were intensely close. We taught each other how to kiss and I taught her how to swim. She had spent summers with my family on our huge vacations, long summers on beaches and Las Vegas. My heart strings were attached and I was pissed.

Again, lets list my complications in the situation:

1. Davie had fucked me no more than 10-15 minutes before he placed his head between my friend's thighs.
2. Jill was my best friend, she was drunk and she had a long term boyfriend.
3. From somewhere my mind was screaming "Oh god no! No! No!".
4. No one had planned this and at seventeen I was not willing to believe that intensely perverted things like this happened so randomly and readily.

It doesn't sound like me at all to have found myself in this type of occasion and feeling as I did. It doesn't seem normal to my super-sexed self that I would turn it down, but I did. I pulled myself off of the bean bag with some resistance from Davie and stalked to the bathroom to see what their reaction was. After sitting on the bathroom counter for about five minutes, I slid down, walked down the hallway and peered into the room. Low and behold, Davie was lying in the center of the bean bag, and Jill was ecstatically riding him, a huge and sweaty smile on her face.

I bit my lip and tried to imagine why this happened. My feelings were hurt because, wasn't I enough for him? Wasn't I beautiful? Wasn't I willing, and fun? It would seem that I had jealousy but it was more like inadequacy, it really hurt my ego. Ivy never had trouble finding guys I've liked and enjoyed, sometimes its a fight to remain single when I'm feeling independent. All our lives, Jill had out-whored me and somehow it hurt my sex-kitten ego. That is such a trashy sentence, but when I really was the good girl, Jill had all the fun.

My fun has always had to be hidden from friends and family for fear of a label, of an reputation. My fun with older men has always been very under-wraps because I've always feared ridicule, feared that my friends would think of me differently. I'm already seen as different by everyone, why add another click to the list?

The alcohol in my system pushed me to lie down on the couch in Jill's room as they finished, it warped my control and I could feel myself passing out. When at the last minute the imaginary smoke filled view was passing in front of my eyes and I couldn't feel my body, I saw Davie above me trying to touch me. My response was palpable,

Fuck off Davie, you've doubled your fun haven't you?

And with those stellar words I passed out completely, my head lolling to the side. In the morning Jill told me with regret in her scrunched brow of what had transpired in her chemically laced mind and what had happened after I passed out. Apparently, she ushered him out quickly telling him to get the fuck away from me and triple locked the front door behind him. She had stripped down in the bathroom and ran the shower scalding hot over her shoulders as she sat fetal-like on the shower floor, watching the drain swallow the water.

I gulped my coffee and pressed a fingertip to my head and made a gun shooting gesture, before scruching up in the chair and doing my own fetus impression. She covered her eyes and whined about her boyfriend finding out and how it would all be over because she was such an idiot. I nodded and then laughed non-chalantly before mentioning,

But Jill, its never a free ride.

I laughed as she re-covered her eyes and smiled in the way of a grimace, her teeth biting at her bottom lip. Sometimes, one is not enough for a man, sometimes neither is two. Maybe one day I'll decide my view on three-somes, but then and now, threes a crowd - and I don't ever want to end up the third wheel again.

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