Threesome Memoirs: Table of Contents
When she arrived at our house, we talked for little bit in the kitchen. I don’t remember what exactly we talked about because I was too busy thinking about the possibility of kissing her for the first time. Kissing any female for the first time for that matter. We felt out the evening and I knew that tonight was the night I would get my first female kiss. I asked her if it was all right to get a picture of my big moment. “Yea, let’s do it!” she answered. I brought out two pairs of sunglasses for us to use, excited and eager for the moment. We sat at the edge of the bed and laughed at the thought of the pre-plannedness of it all. We started by posing for a few Facebook type pictures: friendly and nothing I would be ashamed in showing my friends and family. She then proceeded to get more comfortable by putting her legs across my thighs and posing that way. I put my hand on her calves and tried not to reveal my giddiness as I touched her. “You smell really good? What do you have on?” I gave her the name of the lotion. Yes, I did put a little on my neck. I remembered all the little hot spots Cosmo taught me about when I was in high school and how just a drop or two of perfumed oil can sizzle under these areas.
“Oh, God, I’m nervous!” I told her and Ryan.
I admit, everything was very methodical and planned, which in a way, took some of the nervousness out of it. She was very patient and comforting. She knew I was nervous and decided to approach me in a playful way. She started by saying, “Let’s play patty cake!” Admittedly, I thought this was code for something. What exactly, I had no idea. I waited for her to to initiate this “patty cake” game, as she called it. She sat Indian style on the bed and held her hands out in front of her. I mirrored the motions, but before I realized that this was indeed the hand clapping game that young children played, I had already looked like a goof. Fortunately, she forgot the order of the hand claps herself and said, “I have a better idea…do you know how to play ‘Slide’?” Slide? I thought. That’s my specialty! She took her rings off, none of them a wedding ring, I might add. I kept my ring on, but turned my diamond sideways so I didn’t hurt her. Another hand clapping game I grew up playing, it begins by the two players holding their hands out, touching palm to back of hand, and sliding them back to themselves. The game gets progressively faster as you increase the number of times you “slide.” We got up to round five before stopping and laughing. It certainly broke the tension for a while, but if her goal was to get me into the perfect kissing position, she succeeded without me even realizing it until just now as I write this.
I don’t know what drove us to head back to the beach that night. Maybe we were summoned by the sound of perpetual waves rolling onto the wet sand. Maybe we were drawn to the idea of warm air surrounding us. Maybe our sandy feet from our stroll earlier that day caused us to make the drive back. Whatever it was, the romantic notion of “fucking at the beach” was too strong to ignore. But the fact was it was still winter. And despite us being in Florida, I bundled up as tight as I could, putting on layer upon layer of clothes from whatever was available in our car. I started off with a brown spaghetti strap tank top, tan wrap skirt, and flip flops and added a black scarf, my pea coat, and fur-lined suede boots. According to the reading on the rearview mirror, it was 43 degrees outside.
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