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DAR Stories: The One Where Speed Had A Threesome

Welcome to a new feature on DefineARevolution.com: DAR Stories. In each entry, one Team DAR member will rehash a story in their life that was, for the lack of a better word, insanity in one way or another. Our first participant is Speed on the Beat telling about the time he had a threesome and why he will (probably) never do one again.

Okay, I don't really consider myself to be "vanilla." I mean, I'm not giving my fiancee S&M  lessons on my Christian Grey tip, but I'm pretty open with sexual activities. But, one thing that I can say that I'll never do again is engage in a threesome.

A bit of backstory (read: a lot of backstory)

During my Freshman year at the University of Maryland, I got into a lot of stuff. I got into beer pong. I got into giving people my sloppy seconds. I also got into a lot of drunken debauchery. 

A few months after I arrived on campus, I was bored, horny, and with friends. What that usually meant is this: we'd go out, usually to either The Courtyard apartments, Knox Box, or to someone's random dorm on South Campus. Once there, we would freeload liquor off seniors and be stupid 18/19-year-olds. Once the party was busted by the campus rent-a-cops, Drizzle and his girlfriend would go and bone somewhere, hoping they didn't run into his kind of weird roommate who was gay (he wasn't weird because he was gay. His own partner suggested he was kind of socially awkward in a bad way). And, us single people would be left with waiting for any Becky, Lashawna, or Tara to come through and do what adults do when they're bored, horny, and in need of some sort of release because classes are horrible and your homegirl wants to see the "prettiest penis ever," which at the moment, apparently, is yours (I don't pretend to understand every intricacy of the female mind).

So, we all decided to go out to South Campus to an apartment where D.J. Strawberry was.. D.J. was a basketball player, and usually didn't really rock with underclassmen. So, heading there and actually being like "hey, we know D.J." was somewhat big-deal. Meeting at Drizzle's place, we pre-gamed with 151 and Andre champagne, because we were broke and wanted something that'd mess us up quick and cheaply. 

"I feel like tonight's gonna end up in some shit," I said as I took another shot of the fire-water.

Drizzle paused, grabbed the bottle from me to pour himself and his girlfriend some shots, and retorted with a simple "yep." Pretty soon, we were rolling about ten deep, which--in college terms--is the equivalent of your very own street gang (especially if you're black, in black, with some tall blacks, with a few guys smelling like Blacks). We hop on the Campus Connector, go to South Campus, pay our "cover"--which was the rest of the 151--and start being young, dumb Freshmen. After a while, I decide to leave, because I was supposed to meet up with my folks the next morning and go back to Baltimore on family business. That, plus, the cops were out heavy and I didn't feel all that safe. I said my goodbyes and was on my way.

This is where the "fun" begins.

On my way back into my dorm, I notice two women eyeing me, hard as all hell. One was a redhead who was "kind of thick" and seemed like she wanted me. She also seemed a bit "dirty." Now, I don't mean dirty in the sense of she didn't wash herself. I meant, like, she had sinister intentions, like she wasn't mentally "clean" in some ways. The other was a kind of innocent-looking, thin brunette who looked like you'd break her if you looked at her wrong. But, as thin and innocent as she was, she was also deceptively thick. From the waist down, she was "PAWG" material. 

As I make eye contact back and they approach me, part of me's like "oh, hell. Am I about to get into something because I'm young, black, drunk, and in the company of white women." Part of me's like "eh. Not all white people are pressed to hem you up in legal foolishness. Plus, they seem smart enough to not make any crazy mistakes like put on blackface and suck me off while talking in 'jive.'" And another part of me was curious as to where this may lead me. So, I make small-talk with them. This small-talk ends up leading to "you guys wanna come up to my room? I've got drinks and my roommates have weed if you're into that."

They agreed to come up to my room. And surprise, my roommates weren't there. So, here I am, in this pigsty of a freshman dorm when the two women, they just start guzzling down the rest of the alcohol I'd procured for "emergencies" (read: whenever I was stressed out to all hell or needed that extra boost to beat the bricks off someone). 

"Well, someone's thirsty," I thought. And as soon as I finished that thought, they started moving towards me. It was a mix between a "come hither, I'm straight out of your porno fantasies from middle school" lurch and a drunken stumble. The redhead starts kissing on me as the brunette starts feeling my nether regions, whispering in my ear, "I'm a squirter." So, I do what any drunk and horny guy would do. 

I take them both.

This is the stuff dreams are made of, right? No, not at all.

The brunette, as she's going down on me, she bites me--and hard. Why? The redhead, while sitting on my face, drunkenly leans back and bops the brunette in the head, forcing her to, on reflex, bite my member. To this day, I still get kind of skiddish when getting super crazy head because of this incident. And it gets worse. The redhead tries her hand at oral and almost vomits, since (she failed to mention that) her gag reflex is incredibly sensitive. I'm drunk as hell, so I'm like "oh, ok. Cool. Please don't vomit on my junk," and proceed to get into to actually having the sex with them.

As I'm actually getting it in with the redhead, things are going well. She then starts performing mouth tricks on the brunette. She's going wild, and the brunette starts screaming out from pleasure. Now, judging from the weirdness thus far, two things could happen. The brunette could either:

a) squirt and bury the redhead's face into her crotch, causing me to, out of instinct, go harder, getting my Lexington Steele on, pulling out, taking the rubber off and giving them the sweet treat they wanted...or

b) squirt, causing the redhead to freak out since she, a fellow fighter in the world for women's rights, but still a slight novice at her own sexuality and that of others, thought that squirting was a myth created by porno. This would make the redhead jerk back while I'm inside of her, causing me to fall over my pants and crack my head against my dresser, almost "breaking" my penis in the process.

...guess who almost gets knocked unconscious? On top of this, I also have a few paperback textbooks fall on top of me. So, here I am, with my dick out, and instead of "beating the pussy up," I'm getting beat up by dressers and textbooks. The brunette apologizes, and I'm like ok. It's cool. Maybe we were just going too hard. I get back up and start going in on the brunette. That's when the redhead decides to shout out...

"Yeah, nigga, beat that little white pussy up. Get yo' reparations, nigga. Beat that pussy like a slavemaster."

I stop, mid-thrust, disgusted. The brunette and I both look over at the redhead quizzically.

"Ok, I can take having someone gag on my wood," I begin. "I can take even getting bit, since people do that. Hurts like hell, but it's all good. But, getting almost knocked UNCONSCIOUS by you two--and then you dropping that other mess?! Get the hell out of here." 

The redhead tries to apologize, but ends up making it worse.

"I'm sorry, bro. I thought you people liked to be cheered on," she said. "Isn't sex with a white girl for you guys the pinnacle of epic?"

At this point, I just give her the death stare and tell her to leave. Dejected, the redhead left with no further incident. The brunette asked if she could stay with me. I mean, I wasn't mad at her. She didn't call me a nigga. Yes, she bit me and, due to her female ejaculation, set off a chain reaction which almost knocked me out. But, she was apologetic about the whole thing and I was drunk, so I let her stay. We ended up getting it in a few more times before we passed out.

The next morning, I awoke, hungover with the brunette next to me, passed out in one of my oversized t-shirts and a flowery thong. I also noticed that my desktop was turned on its side and I was missing twenty dollars along with a few XBOX games. I figure the redhead took it as her own "reparations" for me making her take a much-deserved walk of shame. I didn't trip off of it, though, since, you know, fuck her. I knew she was "dirty," just didn't expect that much.

The brunette and I ended up hanging out a few times after that. But I ultimately left her alone because she, for a lack of a better words, was sprung from the dick. I mean, she'd go on and on about marriage and stuff when we didn't really do anything but have sex. 

And as for going back to Baltimore? I call my folks and tell them I couldn't make it on account that I had a lot of cleaning and studying to do.

So, to this day, because of this craziness, I'm against threesomes. Not only do they usually not end up how you want them to/fantasize them to, crazy shit can happen--like almost killing yourself from a concussion or being reminded that blacks are still seen as sideshows to some people, especially in sexual situation. I mean, maybe one of these days, I'd be for it. But, as of now, I'll leave that to the rest of you.

-Speed

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