Just Another Day

Posted by Lex Konrad in Sex | Sep 20, 2004

Leslie wore her stunning red dress and her white wig. No underwear. I couldn’t contain myself.

Enter Layla, wearing an impossibly small denim skirt and a midriff-baring top over which her pretty brown hair cascaded. Flower child. “You look gorgeous,” I said.

We puttered about for a while, considering dinner plans. “Hey, you should have had Natalia come over,” said Lay.

“You seem to have a thing for her,” I said.

“Well, yeah—she’s hot.”

“And where would we all sleep? Besides, we wanted to, um, get to know you a bit better tonight. Next time we all have a weekend free… then we’ll do it.”

“I’m picturing all these women lying on top of each other and you crawling between their legs and licking them all.” I realized Lay could be a bad influence, a co-conspirator. She turned to Leslie. “So, how many women has he been with at one time?”

“Six,” Les responded.

I made a hissing sound and shook my head. “Two words: never again. I’m not interested in opening a gynecology practice.”

Later on, Les was talking about personality tests. “I’m ESFJ,” she announced.

“INTP,” said Lay. Me too, obviously.

Lay’s a Libra, also. Not that I believe in all that astrological jive, but I believe in hippie chicks who believe in it. “So I understand how both of us can be attracted to Leslie,” I said, “her being the exact opposite and all that. But what about us? I am you. Isn’t that like masturbation?”

“Maybe it’s just that we know each other so well,” Lay said.

We smoked weed. Les erupted into a coughing fit, tears streaming down her cheeks. I went into the bedroom to pick out socks, never a good idea when you’re stoned. Sat there and agonized over my choices, then began to stroke the cow-spotted cat. He slinked away. I panicked: ohmygod what if I’m petting him too hard? Then I heard that lawnmower drone, the sound of contentment. Nonsense filled my head. “We’re gonna lay Lay,” I said to the purring cat. “We’re gonna get layed.”

The pizzaman rang the doorbell. “Don’t blow the pizzaman,” I sang as I glided toward the kitchen. I did a little jig, celebrating the arrival of food. I stared at the two women as they ate. So pretty, I thought, even with wedges of pizza stuffed in their mouths. So very pretty.

“I think I’ve set a record tonight,” Lay said. “This is the longest I’ve been here without having sex.” A subtle hint, perhaps?

In the bedroom again, I lifted Layla’s skirt from behind, felt her black silk panties and pulled them to the side to have a look. Meanwhile, Layla tasted Les and Les reached into my trousers to pull my cock out. “We have to go,” I was saying. “The sooner we get out of here the sooner we can come back and do what we’re doing right now.” It took me a moment to appreciate the absurdity of what I’d just said.

We approached a karaoke bar downtown, the location of Emma’s birthday party. On the way in we ran into Emma and company. Already a year that we’ve known her. Derek smiled and shook my hand; he did not punch me this time. Ran into Babs downstairs, who was all smiles as always. And then Emma’s other friend, the pretty black girl who’s interested in swinging, who informed us she’d just broken up with her boyfriend. We mellowed on a couch, Les, Lay and I. An hour passed. We said our goodbyes. I promised Emma we’d make it up to her, preferably in a naked way.

Heads turned when we entered the VIP room at Quo. We were the hottest unit there by far, a party within a party. We found some open seats in the bottle service lounge and the girls excitedly mapped out potential conquests like field commanders surveying a battleground. I was content with what I already had. As they chatted away I let my hand wander up Layla’s skirt.

We went out for a smoke, the three of us. I looked up and contemplated the two pale columns of light, inverse shadows against the velvet night sky, and at some ill-defined point, high up there, the twin beacons merged into a single beam. I held Leslie and turned to Layla. “What do you think of today? This date in history, that is.”

“I hadn’t really thought about it until now. I guess I wanted to block it all out.”

“Me too. You know… to hell with them and their petty vendettas. I’m not terrorized. This is just another day.” We’re still here, I thought, putting all their sacred nonsense through the shredder.

Leslie held my hand, leading me through the crowd in the front room. I looked back and took Layla’s delicate hand in mine, aware that I’d crossed what for me is a subtle line of intimacy. Some people reserve their kisses, or special sex tricks, for the people they trust. I reserve the most innocent gestures of affection.

Back in vips, we split off and made our rounds but didn’t meet with much enthusiasm; it seemed the three of us were too much to handle. I bumped into the party organizer and heaped praise upon her, told her to keep up the good work and so on. Found Lay leaning up against a support column, swaying to the music. Approached and placed my hands on her waist, leaned in to kiss her neck, smelled the faint scent of roses. She closed her eyes and brought her hands up above her head, holding onto the column. “I’m having so much fun,” she said, a dreamy smile planted on her fresh face.

I made eyes at an attractive, shy couple and asked Les if she’d like to go chat them up. “Sure,” she said, and without hesitation walked over and sat next to them. I followed suit, and then Lay came over and sat on my lap. This was distracting enough that I forgot all about the couple and pressed my lips to Layla’s. She slipped behind me and began to massage my back.

My vixens disappeared for a little while. “Looks like you’re all set tonight,” the male half of the attractive couple said. I just nodded, unable to think of any reply. When Les returned she removed the white wig and flung her curls about. She lowered the top of her dress and applied heart-shaped pasties to her nipples. I pulled up the hem, exposing her shaved pussy. She giggled. It wasn’t long before I was done with the party, ready to walk out of there with the two women sauntering a few paces ahead, laughing and carrying on.

At home, I put on a Henry Mancini collection, music that evokes images of an older, more glamorous New York. The three of us tore into one another, became a six-legged beast that rampaged through the living room and spilled onto the bed. Before I could process what was going on Lay was already on top of me. Up and down. In and out. Then slowly grinding herself to orgasm—me grasping her buttocks firmly, smothered by Leslie’s kisses. And when Layla came she released the night’s erotic tension into me, so much of it built up that when I mounted Leslie from behind I didn’t last long. I withdrew and pumped myself over Layla’s tits, wondering whether I’d shoot or dribble. A little of both, as it turned out. I splattered her face and breasts and she massaged my spill into her skin, tilting her head back to take me into her mouth.

Sleep overcame us. Hours passed. Les and I woke up early, both of us restless. Layla slept in and for a moment we watched her doze. “She looks so cute,” I said. Did some chores and grabassed with Leslie in the living room. The morning brightened and I felt tired again. Slipped under the covers and snuggled up to Lay, had those vivid morning dreams. We both awoke at noon. “What a strange dream,” I said.

“What was it about?” She yawned.

“We had this large, sunny, duplex… I kept running upstairs to see Les and downstairs to see you.”

“Aw… that’s cute,” she said as she stretched, blinking the sleep from her eyes.

Les came in and crawled under the sheets. She grabbed my erection and then brought her lips to it as Layla looked on. I placed a hand on my girlfriend’s bobbing head, closed my eyes and felt Layla’s soft lips against my cheek. My heart banged away. Leslie straddled my face and Layla snuck off to find the camera. She snapped photos of us from different angles, all the while egging us on. Les flipped around and impaled herself on me, squeezing down there. Milking me. How is it that someone so familiar, so comforting, can still fuck me senseless? I flipped her onto the bed and settled on my side, slowly, lazily pushing into her. Layla set down the camera and lowered her face between Leslie’s legs, licking both of us at once, her long hair tickling my thighs and balls.

I pounced on our lovely guest as Leslie held her. Hard and fast, crashing against Layla’s pubic bone as she curled her lips and growled. Then slowing down, burying my face in her neck, whispering, waiting to unload into that thin piece of latex, the only thing that separated us.

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