I was at the fish monger buying more mussels than I could afford. As the bag filled, so did my quiet confidence. Confidence that at the bottom of that bag of molluscs, waited two sultry young women. I am certain it was that same exact moment they had decided upon the tone of the evening themselves.
The slimmer of the two, Elysha, was a head strong psychology undergrad. We had history: Each the other’s first love; A love I will always carry. Her friend, Xara, was a buxom beauty who could drink and fuck better than most. “Would that it could, the universe stop me, for I have done naught, deserving indulgent revelry“ I mused in my head.
“If all I am to do is cook them dinner and bid them goodnight, I will be a better man for it. But, if things go as suspected, I then too will be a better man. oh the absence of loss is freeing isn’t it?”
“are you one’a them crazies?” the cashier scowled, chewing gum loudly.
“I should think not!” i replied with manor.
“CASH OR CARD?” she barked through my dismissal of her integrity.
I counted out exact change for the dotty old thing and asked for double bags….. before throwing the whole pile into the air and slowly strolling away.
Ever noticed that women in or fresh out of relationships are super giving lovers? Willing to do things their boyfriend’s not even dare ask?! “what heaven is this?” I whispered to the man rushing to the cashiers aid.
He replied in a sentence constructed almost entirely of expletives. It went something like: “fukk’n’scumbag derelict peice’a'piss-stain thoughtless bastardfuck”.
I smiled. I wasn’t fazed. His good deed was done for the day, and my debauched deed had only just begun.
At my place the meal went down, so did the wine. The Talk was steamed a perverse. We quickly got around to sex. Specifically, how stagnant or routine it can become once in a monogamous relationship. I was dejected! Horrified!!!
That these two incredibly sexual beings had honestly not yet had a lover of any kind bring home passion to them once things got “comfortable” was absurd! Of course, quickly following, was my foolish attempt at humour:
“I would sweat twice the sweat, work twice the hours, and be accountable for twice the ammount of erupting orgasms from you two, if it would prove that a man’s love and interest, lies with the object of his unrelenting animal desire.” smiling like a poet with one too many concubines.
“So you could passionately penetrate us both nightly, keep us both satisfied, uphold all expected duties in both parts of the relationship, including the boring parts, because the thought of having two girlfriends is deviant and lustful enough for you to stay interested?!” they said in unison, eerily..
“Like carrot to a donkey!!!” I said knowingly.
Let me take a moment here to sing……. “OH SWEET POLYAMORY! CONSENSUAL, ETHICAL AND RESPONSIBLE NON-MONOGAMY, POLYYYY-AMORYYYYY! FOR MEEEEE…..AND HER……….AND HER..”
Ok, victory dance danced……….. time for the chaffing details.
As with all good nights it ended with the sun coming up and three thinly veiled calls to bosses with bouts of gastro and food poisoning and the like. Anything, anything at all, to further our self-loathing into the day. Vomit was had all round, and showers were first order of business. Afterwards the day was spent hot a bothered, wrist deep in the biggest box of barrier contraception you have ever seen, exploring all the wonderful things adding two legs, two hands and three orifices can do to a new relationship. “The words, I do not have. The memory, may I never lose.” I thought while I lay there imaginary high fiving every man, ever!
This was followed by a lather, rinse, repeat, approach which required getting hell drunk every time we were to spend the night together, and also adding a seafood column to my weekly budget.
So………..’the carrot’, the allure of excess, the pseudo celebrity it would bring me amongst peers, was it going to be enough that ‘idle hands’ have boobs to choose from, or are we, as humans, simply unfaithful because no matter how good something is, everyone, without any concious effort on their part, becomes accustomed eventually?
The answer you will have to seek elsewhere. A few too many heavy drinking sessions and a declaration of love inside of our already fragile “triangle” lead to jealousy, less honesty, some uncomfortable social situations, and ultimately, the expiration of what was a care free month by all accounts.
“Tis those without life in force who live happily with only what they are accustomed. Tis a man of great strength who fears not the loss, but what may never be gained.” I reassured myself, wondering how much of one advices one should actually take.
Me, I’ve given up on love, and I’m not sure there was much to learn from this anyhow. One thing I must take away though, is: people tend to have an aversion to being used. Allow me to be the first to suggest that it is because; they have never been used by two, well fed, well groomed, drunk and fiery nymphomaniacs.
“FOR MY STORY IS TOLD, IT WILL BE HEARD, PAINT IN FICTION, BUT USE REAL GIRLS.”