The cloudy light soaked my apartment, staining it yellow. The heated glow danced like a torch in the corner of the room. I dragged my feet across the carpet to the couch to finish watching the fight on television.
“Do you like it? We spent forever figuring out what to get you.”
“I love it.” My eyes never left the fight on the screen.
“We were worried you wouldn’t,” smiled Monica sweetly.
“As long as it was from you girls I’m sure I’d love it,” I replied.
“No,” said Tami, “that’s not true. We know how picky you are.”
“Yes, but the two of you have excellent taste,” I said.
Tami and Monica were best friends and they lived together in an apartment downtown. They were friends at Ohio State, until they both dropped out and moved in together.
They met me when my roommate at the time, Marie, brought Monica to the apartment for tea. She came back the next day with Marie. Then the following day Monica came alone and stayed for an hour smoking menthol cigarettes and tugging at the tangles in my hair. The day after that she came over again and she brought Tami. That was the way we met.
Monica and Tami visited me at my apartment every day that spring. They arrived together dressed in skirts or dresses. Sometimes they brought me beer, and they always would hang around the apartment and smoke weed with me.
Monica would say, “We have to leave, baby, but we’ll come by again tomorrow.” And they always returned, sometimes without panties.
I was working out everyday in the gym at school and I looked good. After school I could expect to see Monica and Tami. Tami was slim and blonde with an innocent look about her. Monica was more assertive, and also a blonde but dirtier with streaks bleached in it.
Other women always seemed impressed by the way they pranced around me as if I were important, not caring if it looked like I had hired them to accompany me everywhere.
It made me feel a little less lonely when they would show up, sometimes just to see me. We would go places together and they would both sit in the front seat as we paraded through town dressed like movie stars and smoking weed in public.
One evening they surprised me and showed up with a copy of the new Woody Allen movie and some microwave popcorn.
“We know you love Woody Allen. We thought we could have little a date. Just the three of us, unless you’re busy,” said Monica. She always did the talking.
The movie was a documentary style film about Django Reinhardt. Simply the notion that two girls so young would be into a movie about jazz made me think for a passing second that the world wasn’t purely evil.
I explained this to them using all the big words it takes to seduce a woman and Tami kissed me. Then I kissed Monica and then Tami again. We watched the rest of the movie cuddling closer than before. Tami unbuttoned my pants and blew me while Monica watched.
When she was finished we went to sleep. The girls left early in the morning, but they came back again that night with another Woody Allen movie and more popcorn.
When the movie was over Tami gave me head and Monica supervised, commenting on technique. That was the beginning, and it was beautiful. Woody Allen has a lot of movies, and we viewed them each with precise critical attention and kissed and discussed which one was better than the other and why. Tami would give me a world class blowjob and Monica always watched.
It was my 19th birthday when they showed up with a bamboo lamp that they had bought for me.
“Do you like it?” asked Monica.
“I love it.” I focused my eyes to the fight on television.
It was a good fight and I was drunk. Monica had bought me a fifth of gin for my birthday and it was that bottle that marked the beginning of the end.
“No Woody Allen tonight?” asked Monica with a pout.
“Nope,” said Tami. “It’s a holiday.”
“What holiday? It’s just another day,” I said.
“It’s your birthday, silly.” Tami was doing all the talking, which was very unusual.
“Monica, could you make me a drink, baby?” I handed her my glass.
“Make me one, too,” said Tami.
“Don’t get all fucked up and pass out on me, Tami,” snapped Monica.
“Whatever. I passed out once.”
“Yeah, Monica, don’t be so uptight,” I said.
“I just don’t want to take care of her when she’s passed out.”
“Just make the fucking drink,” said Tami and I think Monica made the drink strong when she said that, because within the hour Tami was passed out on the bathroom floor.
“What’s the matter with Tami?”
I asked Monica.
“She always passes out and then
I have to babysit,” she replied.
“Do you want a drink?” I asked. “Don’t get up. I’ll make it for you.”
I mixed the lime with the gin and tonic and then added extra lime to make it tart. When I brought it over to her she just set it down on the table and pulled me into the bedroom by the waist of my pants.
I undressed her starting with her shoes. She giggled and kissed the back of my neck. We made love on my futon and as it ended Tami woke up and drunkenly asked Monica to take her home.
After that night our relationship wasn’t the same. Tami and Monica came over everyday, but not together and they never brought movies. The visits were brief compared to the way they used to spend the night or spend hours philosophizing and getting high. I wanted to go back to the way it was before, but it would never be the same.
It was two years before I saw Tami and Monica together again. They both moved out of state. Then one day Monica called me out of the blue and said Tami was in town and they wanted to get together with me.
The thought of seeing the two of them again sent a shock through my mind. I pictured all the possibilities. My imagination was running wild.
“We’ll be in town on Sunday, so we should go out to eat and then go downtown,” Monica suggested.
“Sounds good,” I said.
“And then we should go to a strip club and rent a room at that great hotel so we can all go back there,” she continued.
“Okay,” I said.
Once again my imagination cut loose. Every freaky fantasy I had ever had suddenly seemed a step closer.
The next day was the longest day of my life. I spent it drinking at a bar, replaying my conversation with Monica in my head. I fantasized about exactly what might be in store for me.
I realized that it was getting late and everything closes early on Sunday. I was nervous, because this wasn’t one of the stories where the hero gets the girl. I remembered that there was nothing heroic about me and asked the bartender for my tab while collecting myself.
I thought about how my last girlfriend left me because I had no ambition and that she wanted someone who had a great job.
But Monica and Tami understood me, and they knew that I was nothing more than myself. They were different than anybody I had ever met and I was in love with them more than ever.
I could hear my answering machine when I walked into my room. It was Monica listing their hotel room and telling me to get there right away, so I took a cab.
When I got to their room they were drinking champagne and smoking some killer herb. I sat down between them and made myself a drink. We sat there getting high and talking and laughing, just like old times.
The television in their room had cable, and Annie Hall was playing on a cable channel.
“I haven’t seen this one before,” Monica said.
“I’ve seen it, it’s one of my favorites of his,” I said.
“I’ve seen it too. It’s a love story,” Tami chimed in.
“You know my boyfriend wanted to come tonight?” Monica said. “But
I told him he couldn’t.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Totally. We’re a threesome.” She sounded proud of herself.
“Hey, Tami,” I said, lifting Tami’s hair to expose the back of her neck, then I kissed it.
“Kiss Tami right here,” I told Monica. “This is a very tender part of her body.”
Monica kissed the back of her best friend’s neck. Then I lifted Monica’s hair to let Tami kiss her neck.
“Oooh, that is tender,” said Tami.
“Of course it is. Each of you is a delicate, sexy little dish.” They drank more Champagne and I drank vodka.
We talked and kissed and played games that consisted of clever attempts on my part to get them to touch me, or each other.
I dared them into action until finally Tami was sucking on Monica’s pussy and I was banging Tami doggie style. It felt so good to be balls deep in Tami while Monica moaned under her mouth. Finally I pulled out and came all over Tami’s back, and Monica shouted as she climaxed.
Then we switched positions until we’d all touched and fucked every inch of each other.
At about four in the morning we crawled into bed. We kissed and cuddled until the sun rose. Then I curled up between them and tried to sleep.
“Did you come in my hair?” Tami whispered softly.
“No,” I sighed, half asleep.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” I said. “Good night. I love the both of you.”
“I love you too,” said Tami.
“I love you too,” said Monica.
I guess this time the hero got both the girls. Name and address withheld
