Making sense of my adventures with women, one disaster at a time.

Broken Dreams

 


I never had any attractive teachers during my school years. My third grade teacher Mrs. Holden doesn’t count. I don’t even think I got boners back then. But I would imagine that if I did have a hot young teacher in high school, I’d probably have felt an urge to fuck her. I wouldn’t consider myself “hot,” but I would say I’m sexy. I can understand why that in my first year as a high school math teacher why some eighteen-year-old girls would want to take me home.

 

I had just finished my first week ever as an official “math teacher.” I was still getting over the initial aura of consistently being called “Mr. Glenn,” as opposed to “Dave.” There was a big party in San Diego, and a bunch of us made the hour-and-a-half drive down there. I felt like celebrating a week’s work in “the real world.” I felt grown up. I felt like a man. I knew everything.

 

Though saturated with a high volume of meatheads and tweakers, the party was impressive–about two hundred people, three kegs, and a couple twenty-year-old bartenders making mixers. Kimber, one of the girls who had come with us, had invited a bunch of her girlfriends she knew in the area. After my second drink, she introduced me to two of them.

 

I remembered she once told me a friend of hers thought I was cute. After some small talk with these two, I could tell it was one of them. They were both eighteen and inexperienced at hiding their attraction, especially after Kimber told them I was a high school math teacher. It was obvious. Their shoulders squared towards me; they smiled in excess; and they stared at me 90% of the time, even when Kimber was speaking.

 

I went for Tanya, the cuter of the two. She had long brown hair, great legs, a nice smile, and a spunky attitude. I liked her immediately. Although the other girl, Roxy, was an attractive blonde, she was so quiet and timid she didn’t participate in the conversation and just stared. I had already forgotten her name. 

 

After downing a couple beers together, Tanya cut in line to get us another one. After close to an hour of chatter, we were holding hands. A few minutes later we were making out in plain view of everyone. We didn’t find a dark corner. We didn’t go looking for secret alleys. We didn’t give a fuck. We were going back to her place. Soon.

 

We took off around one. Some schleprock friend of hers with a popped collar and loudmouth girlfriend drove us home. I was too buzzed to pay much attention to them, but I do remember going through a Del Taco drive-through. Tanya and I didn’t order anything. We made out in the backseat while the schlep ordered something called “Dan’s Deal.”

 

When we arrived at her apartment, we took turns peeing and retreated to her bedroom. The lights turned on, and I was delighted to finally find a room messier than mine. Clothes were strewn all over the place; she didn’t even have a designated laundry pile like me. Besides clothes, there were old candy wrappers, crumpled up printer papers, a photo, two nacho cheese Dorito chips, crumbs–probably from a cookie, and at least six pairs of shoes.

 

Everywhere I looked were more clothes, more wrappers, more shoes, more wrinkled papers, even another bed. I almost didn’t notice that there was a real person lying on the bed—the timid blonde. Either I had hit the jackpot or I had hit a massive roadblock. The blonde awoke as soon as we turned the lights on and gave a friendly, “Hey.” The two girls briefly discussed their night and how they got home. While I lay down on Tanya’s bed, horny as hell, she turned off the lights and walked over to join me.  

 

The glow of the girls’ two computers illuminated the room as Tanya lay next to me.  She was unsure whether to hook up with me just yet with her roommate only ten feet away. She got over it quickly when I got on top of her and started kissing her. She even pulled the old “So, Mr. Glenn, are you gonna send me to detention?” I played along, and we fooled around some more. A few moments later, she looked over at the roommate and asked, “Roxy, what are you doing?”

 

Startled, Roxy hesitated and then replied, “I’m just lying down.” I sensed an opportunity. It was now or never. I smiled and said, “Roxy, come over here,” I invited her in a half-joking, half-serious tone. I awaited the girls’ reply.

 

Most girls would throw me out for the suggestion I’d made. But Tanya was cool. I only gave it a 15% chance Tanya would be mad. I was right and Tanya remained silent. Roxy slowly got up and staggered over to our bed. I was lying across Tanya’s legs, and when Roxy hopped on the bed, she lay next to Tanya. I got on top of Tanya and started kissing her. Fifteen seconds later, I made the critical switch over to Roxy—for all the marbles. I started kissing her, and she kissed me back. Tanya remained quiet.

 

THIS WAS HAPPENING! I switched back and forth in intervals of twenty-five seconds while taking off the girls’ clothes at the same time. When they both were completely naked, I started “checking their oil” simultaneously. It was at that moment that the consummation of all my wildest dreams began. They started making out with each other as I fingered them. This was too much. I went down on them, switching off a couple times. They continued to make out. The threesome was on.

 

After going down on them, they laid me on my back and took my pants off. They shared my cock ravenously, although Roxy was a bit selfish. She definitely got more suck time. They then pulled out a condom and rolled it onto my dick. Roxy sat on my face while Tanya sat on my dick. After a while, I bent them over and took turns fucking them as they made out with each other. Ultimately, I ended up fucking Tanya doggie-style while Roxy played with herself until she started squirting all over the place. When we had finally all climaxed, we lay, exhausted, in the bed, a trio of hedonistic pioneers.

  

That didn’t happen. I wish I could say my pants came off. I wish I could claim my dick actually got wet. I wish I could declare that sex organs went “squirt.” But I can’t. After checking the oil and going down on them, I started to unravel. I started making out with them in turns again, this time in quicker intervals. The intervals soon became so quick that I probably broke the sound barrier with my speed. Like most people, my mind and body have a way of doing things at warped speed when I get nervous. I remember in my first year of teaching—just a few months after my night with Tanya—when the principal showed up unannounced for an observation. I’ve never said “y=mx+b” faster in my entire life. He brought me into his office after school that day and confessed that he couldn’t understand a word I’d said. While he explained my disastrous instruction delivery, I remember having flashbacks of this night. From the bedroom to the classroom, I was a spaz, and spazzes always choke in big moments.

 

After the fifteenth frantic switch, Tanya stared at me, “Look at you. Who do you think you are?” A few moments later, Roxy got up and left the room. If there is such a thing as a negative orgasm, it was at that moment. For all of us. My sexual fantasies just weren’t ready for their coronation. Not on that night.

 

There is a time and place for aggressiveness, but it definitely isn’t during the infancy of a threesome. I had blown it. The girls could sense my eagerness and inexperience from a mile away. After Roxy left the room, Tanya and I continued to go at it, but I had lost all touch with reality. I still thought I was hot shit. As Tanya dry-humped me over my shorts, I jumped the gun and asked her if she had a condom. She stopped, “Uh, what kind of girl do you think I am? I don’t do that.” Thirty seconds later she got up. “I’m going to watch TV in the living room with Roxy.” I lay there in anguish, a pathetic lump of skin, bone, and cloth. Cock too.

 

After a few more futile attempts at Tanya—in one pathetic attempt I even followed her into the living room and tried to cuddle with her only to get kicked off the couch because I was making things “crampy”—I realized she had lost all attraction to me and I didn’t blame her. I had let the situation go to my head and I deserved the result. She ended up driving me back to a nearby friend’s house a little after four. I instantly went to the bathroom to jerk off to my imagination of “what could have been,” but when I discovered a Cheri magazine hidden in the cabinet beneath the sink, I took the visual alternative. I passed out on the couch, a galactic disappointment to single men all across the universe.

 

The next day I awoke in my clothes and saw the stain of Tanya’s pussy juice on my shorts. It was sad. I even sniffed it a few times to torture myself. My sorrow didn’t stop me from lying to all my friends, “I got in a threesome last night.” The regret of my failure lasted for over a week.

 

I think the government should capture guys like me and throw us on an island somewhere designated only for guys who blew a threesome. We could all discuss our woeful stories and drink away our sorrows. It would make for good constructive therapy. I have some friends who could be sent there. Ron blew a threesome because he got too greedy. Axe blew a threesome because he had to take a leak. The list goes on. But it’s all the same. The stories all end in broken dreams and painful regrets. Writing this story is my therapy, my woe, my unfortunate destiny. There are no happy endings to this tale.

  

 

  • Drew

    Maybe it wasn’t a happy ending, but at least you got closer to a threesome than most guys can dream about LoL

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