We’re Goin’ Ridin’ on the 3 Way of Love

My first New York boyfriend was a doctor who was much older than I was. When he took me to meet his parents I thought, Wow, this is a really nice cemetery.

He subscribed to the Rolling Penis Gathers No Moss Syndrome and had slept with every woman in Manhattan. Twice. He got bored with me very quickly and suggested a 3 way. I said No way and he said, My wife and I have an open relationship, why can’t we?

Many women decide to have a 3 way but it’s usually for the wrong reasons. You think your boyfriend will love you more, that it will keep him from leaving you and that you’ll be special to him because you’re giving him such a nice gift. You want to give him a nice gift? Don’t tell him you fake orgasms.

There are some rules you set up with a guy if you decide to have a 3 way.

A. She can’t be prettier than me.
B. She can’t be thinner than me.
C. She can’t be prettier or thinner than me.

“What if I don’t know what to do with a woman?”
“You have a catcher’s mitt and she has a catcher’s mitt. How difficult can that be? And you can always use your vibrator if my bat and balls are on a break.”

Like a sports metaphor is going to clear it all up for me.

And getting my vibrator in bed with me and another woman was going to be tricky since it was so big. It had a front seat.

And what if I was bad at it? I’d have to add lesbian sex to the other things I was bad at, like picking out ripe cantaloupes and remembering my correct age.

The Doctor and I picked a safe word. A word we could both use in case we wanted it to stop. I finally came up with what I thought was a great one. I picked something I could easily remember, provided I didn’t get drunk, take E or smoke weed and immediately forget it.

The girl’s name was Cricket. I decided to give myself a fake name like Jane or Mary. Something easy to forget.

“Your boyfriend said your name was Suzy?” Or Suzy.

We all undressed. The others quickly, like their clothes were on fire, me, wishing my clothes were on fire because that would have melted my cellulite.

The Doctor threw back a shot of tequila and took a hit off a joint. He offered the joint to Cricket who took it and passed it to me. I took a hit and passed it back to The Doctor. I figured the longer we passed that joint around, we’d all eventually pass out before I had to do anything.

“All right, I’m almost there.” The Doctor said.

Cricket and I looked over at the couch and noticed he was lying there at half mast, where ‘half mast’ equals mashed potatoes lying on a plate. How could he be “almost there” if he had no hard-on?

“Say when.” Cricket said.

“Soon.” He replied.

So we waited. And waaaaited. Waiting for him to get hard took so long Godot finally arrived.

“Now” he said, pumping the mashed potatoes very hard.

Cricket reached for my boobs and I explained that I didn’t like them touched. Which is why I never breastfed. That and I never had kids.

She kissed me and I jumped a little. “Could you just take it slow because I… okaaaaaaaaaaaaay.”

She’d found the g-spot, something The Doctor thought was where he parked his car in the garage. Did I forget to turn off the heat or was it just my catcher’s mitt?

And then I freaked out. Why was I doing this? I liked men. I preferred men. I was doing this for The Doctor and that embarrassed me, that I would do something I didn’t want to do just to please a man.

Time to pull out the safe word.

Remember I said I had to pick something I would remember, a word to use provided I didn’t get drunk or take E or smoke weed and immediately forget it? Well of course I got drunk and took E and smoked weed. And immediately forgot it.

By now the Ecstasy had kicked in and I thought my curtains looked awfully dingy and yet strangely hypnotic by the light of my ashen face.

What was the safe word?

“Boooooooooooooook?”

“Worm.” Cricket said. “No, case. BOOK CASE!! I LOVE Password.”

“Potaaaaaaaaaaaato.”

The Doctor spoke up. “Are you trying to remember the safe word?”

“Maybe.”

“Potato, seriously?”

“Well do YOU remember the safe word?”

“Of course I remember it but I’m not the one who wants it to stop!!”

“HEADband?”

Cricket and The Doctor laughed. I gave up. I was too high to remember the safe word.

“Fuck it.”

And The Doctor said, “Ok then, we’re done.”