When I was a sophomore in university, a bunch of my girlfriends and I decided to rent a Motel 6 room just outside of town one Friday night and get completely wasted. Why? Because college, dammit, that’s why! We piled a couple of cars full of vodka, mixers, cigarettes, and a big-ass boom box (remember those?), then headed into the suburbs to the seediest motel chain in all of the US.
Shortly after dropping our stuff in the room, we turned on some pop music, ordered pizza, poured drinks, and started dancing on the beds. I’m sure we were pretty loud, but there didn’t seem to be many people in the hotel; no one was complaining. On the contrary – we caught the attention of a middle-aged man down the hall who was moving into our college town. He decided to bring his beer over and drink with us; despite it being a girls’ night out, we welcomed him.
This was years ago, so I can’t remember any of our conversation (if I’m being honest, I probably didn’t remember it the next day), but I know we had a great time. After binge-drinking vodka cranberries and chain smoking Camels, having hilarious conversations, and engaging in a straight-outta-slumber-party-porn pillow fight, the nice man – let’s call him Tom – went back to his room, and we turned out the lights and crawled into bed. Two minutes later, out of the darkness came, “So – who wants to go fuck Tom with me?” “I do!” I piped up. My friend Jo and I (that’s right, folks – my first threesome was with someone who has the same name as me, though she went by the nickname Creamy at the time) ran to the vending machine in our PJs and bought condoms, then sauntered over to Tom’s room and knocked on his door.
“Mind if we come in?” we asked when he opened. Astonished, he opened the door and motioned us in with a sweep of his arm. We didn’t bother saying anything; we just started taking off his clothes and pushed him down on the bed. I wish I could tell you all the sordid details of what happened that night, but it’s all a blur (thanks a lot, vodka). I remember making out with her; making out with Tom; both of us going down on him at the same time; us going down on each other; all of us taking a shower together; and most memorably, Tom getting whiskey dick when the time came for penetrative sex. He was alright getting started, but then it would inevitably and quickly deflate. We tried everything we could think of; we did everything he could think of – but to no avail. I felt so bad for that guy. Not because not having an erection is a bad thing – it’s absolutely not (triple negative ninja in the house!). I’ve had a million super-hot experiences with guys that didn’t involve their dicks. But how often do two college girls come to your hotel room asking you to fuck them?
This happened when I was twenty; I was relatively inexperienced and uneducated in the realm of sexuality, so I was definitely not having the “sex isn’t about penetration or orgasm” conversation. It was more like, “Well, we tried to bang and it didn’t work, so guess that’s over.” Looking back, I want a do-over. I want to tell that guy: Let’s play. Let’s all touch each other til we’re quivering. Let’s lick and stroke and explore each other’s bodies, one part at a time, and enjoy every moment for what it is. Let’s make this about being sensual rather than trying to make it a porn.
In any case, it was fun to head back into the city and have this conversation with classmates on Monday: “What did you do this weekend?” “I had a threesome with a stranger in a Motel 6. You?” I never had much of a filter.