A Tale of Two Fitties

This time last week (I can only apologise for my lateness in blogging) I was just returning from Hyde Park, having watched the utterly wonderful Kings of Leon play two hours of allmyfavouritesongs. When I say returning, I do not mean to my home (how silly of you to assume), but in fact to a pre-booked hotel – a Premier Inn to be precise; an unnaturally hot, cupboard-y sort of establishment which was to play host to my first ever threesome.

This threesome was a New Year’s resolution of mine, and it has taken 6 sorry months to come into fruition. To be fair, I’m never that good at keeping resolutions... 5pm on January 2nd usually sees me sitting guiltily atop a mountain of forbidden fruits, falling-down-drunk on whatever it was I eschewed forever just 41 hours earlier. But I thought the threesome would be a little easier to come by than it has been. Initially I was only interested in a me-and-two-men scenario (selfish, greedy, jealous; check, check, check), but when I found myself at the gig last week with a very sexy female friend and the keys to a hotel room with a double bed I thought – “Why not?!”

So it came about that Sarah – a friend from Uni – and I spent some rather valuable KOL time scouting the crowd for a leading man for our Premier Inncest. None were forthcoming. The situation was beginning to look a little desperate (as, I suspect, were we)... ‘How could there not be even one eligible shagger in the whole of Hyde Park?!’ ‘Why can’t we just take one of the Followills?!’ ‘Why is life conspiring against my lovely New Year’s resolution?!?!’ In the end I decided we couldn’t just leave things to chance *humourless laugh* (you’ll see why)... And so I called none other than Jim, of anorexia-riddled-Russell-Brand fame, and explained the situation. He arrived 20 minutes later.

[I still hadn’t seen Jim since that rather disastrous first date by the way – our every attempt to meet up had been thwarted. Which means that our second date was a booty call threesome. The man should be worshipping the ground I walk upon.]

We met Jim at the station and I sized the pair of them up. Not bad, not bad at all. I’d basically bagged myself a pair of fitties. *Smug smile*. I wonder if people in the street know we're going back for an elicit sexual encounter... "Look at you all with your boring lives! I'm off for a flipping threesome over here!" When we got to the hotel, I went for a shower... I was hot and dusty from the park, and I wanted to give Sarah and Jim a chance to get to know each other a bit. When I emerged from the shower I was cool and clean, and Sarah and Jim were making out on the bed. Mission accomplished. I wondered if it might be awkward to get the thing started. I straddled Jim and kissed him, then I kissed Sarah. And then – suddenly - it's begun.

There is something extremely exhilarating about going down on a girl. It’s unfamiliar and yet totally familiar. I had never been with a girl before, but my point is this – you already know what you're doing. That in itself is a huge turn on. Plus knowing someone else is there watching everything you’re doing – even more of a turn on. And I can honestly say there are few things as sexy as hearing another woman moaning your name...

So I think it's fair to say that Sarah and I were both pretty into it. And as for Jim... Oh, Jim. Jim Jim Jim. It's a blessed relief Sarah was there to be honest, because once again Jim failed to rise to the occasion. I’m thinking: ‘There is actually something wrong with this man’. It's impossible to be annoyed, the poor thing was distraught. We tried everything... "Would you like to just watch us make out for a while?" I could virtually sense erections springing up all over London in subconscious response to the speaking-out-loud of that magical sentence. But not Jim's... I think we picked the wrong provider of penis. I’m thinking: ‘No, really. There is actually something wrong with this man’... If the feeble stirrings of his cock weren’t enough of an indicator, he was POURING with sweat (I am not exaggerating when I describe his torso as a deluge... I suspected that at any minute I would slip off him to the floor). AND he’s emaciated. Christ, perhaps he’s a heroin addict.

It may be that following previous disappointing displays by Jim, I was just resigned to the no-cock situation. Or maybe I was just tired, drunk and lazy (not unheard of). Either way, I gave up on the hope of an erection joining the Premier party sometime around 2am. As soon as I had reconciled myself with this thought, I was promptly hit by a wave of exhaustion, rolled over and fell asleep on the far side of the bed... Not the height of seduction, sure, but I had orchestrated the entire evening, as I saw it. I deserved a rest.

I'm not entirely sure what I was expecting... That perhaps as I drifted off to sleep, Jim and Sarah would get into some flannel pyjamas and it'd be lights out... Like, *yawn* ‘OK guys, I'm ready for sleep - You too right?! Cool, night you two. See you in the morning’.

So I was sliiiiiiightly, if unreasonably, surprised to wake up several times over the next couple of hours to the sound of Jim and Sarah having sex. ‘What the -?!’... I mean, fair play to Sarah – she had carried on where I had given up, and as such she should reap the not inconsiderable rewards of grinding Jim to faltering orgasm at least once or twice. Good for her! Good for him! But... but...

I haven’t had sex with him at all yet! *stamping feet, childish pout, clenched fists*. It’snotfair! These are the thoughts that raced through my mind nanoseconds before I fell straight back to sleep.

Unfortunately my looming hangover woke me up fairly early the following morning. In a hotel room the size of a cupboard there aren’t many places to go when you wake up before your bedfellows (utterly exhausted from their continued night of passion no doubt), so I curled up on the other side of the bed, clutching a tooth glass of water and thinking over the previous night. I spotted a Bible on the bedside table... Well that's a relief.

It is actually close to impossible to feel left out when there are three of you in a bed about 2 ½ feet wide, and yet somehow I managed it with aplomb. Sarah and Jim had fallen asleep where they fell and were draped across each other. They looked a bit like a sexy tableaux. I clutched my tooth glass closer and pondered on whether I needed to be sick (hangover, not consuming jealousy). Just you and me, tooth glass, just you and me.

This has to be the threesome’s downfall. Well, the GGB threesome at any rate... Even when everything is biologically functional there’s never going to be enough to go around.

Maybe a foursome’s the way to go? I’ll keep you posted.

BeDJ