Last night, I joined a couple of my friends for the big Man U versus Liverpool match. Forum 19 has been our new hang out as of late, so it was no surprise when K suggested we head there for the match. We met T1 and T2 there. T1 has been a big a fan of Liverpool for as long as I've known her. K's been a fan of the Devils for pretty much the same time. T2 and I…we just sit and watch the game, hoping that at some point Torres' shorts fall of revealing what we ache to see.
Halfway through the match (okay, I lie. 10 minutes into the match) the conversation between T2 and I started wandering in all sorts of directions. Somehow we ended up talking about threesomes.
Like most girls I've spoken to, T2 has two main rules: 1) The boyfriend doesn't get to kiss or make love (because f*ck just seems a little too vulgar) with the "guest star" and 2) The only way he gets to have a girl in the scenario is if somewhere down the line, she gets to include a boy.
In all honesty as much sense as that deal makes, ladies, it's never going to happen. The day a straight man agrees to cross swords is the day Jake Gyllenhaal decides to do a full-frontal scene…with me in it.
T1 on the other hand seemed to like the idea of having a threesome with a woman. A classic argument, she said that only a woman knows how to really pleasure a woman. Somewhere beneath that thick layer of whoretitude lies a lesbian just waiting to be awoken.
It's true that I hang out with people who are open books when it comes to matters about sex, but if I went back in time a little, I'd never have thought that I'd be having this conversation with anyone. The fact everyone seems to have all these things planned - even though they've never actually HAD a threesome - intrigues me. How wondrous the mind is.
A new sexual frontier it may not be, but I'm still getting used to the idea that it's okay for us to talk about while hoping that Torres' pants fall off with 200 people cheering him on.
