A One, And A Two, And A Three....

So we are all in our thirties. But when we first met we were in college. I was the little freshman, virginal, conservative when it came to intimacy, looking to become a second grade school teacher. He was older, a senior looking to go to grad school so he could go work in big industry. And Ana, well she was a junior, merit scholar, straight As, and as far as I could determine asexual. And that bothered me, I don't know why.

I did not want to see her get into something she didn't like, but turning her back on sex just didn't make sense to me either. I mean, I was a virgin but I had no intentions of remaining a virgin. I wanted the ultimate degree, an MRS degree, and have four kids and live in the suburbs. I measured men on that scale, can they provide me with that lifestyle. That's why I had my eyes on him.

How to catch him. That is why I talked to her, that and she was my roommate that year, I took the extra room in the two bedroom she had rented. We were, friends. I told her about my frustrations in getting him to pay attention to me, and she told me about her frustrations of dealing with her parents who wanted her married and pregnant. Two peas in a pod, almost.

One day I pushed the envelope. Did she have some early in life experience that turned her off to sex, and men. Or was she hiding her natural inclination for other women. Did she have low self esteem. What was it that drove her away from men and sex. I posed the questions my mother asked me when I talked to her about Ana. But I was curious and I broached the subject.

I wasn't surprised in that she had never had sex. She had never dated. She thought of sex as unnecessary, the ultimate control lever used by men over women. I asked if she wanted to have babies, The answer was an emphatic no. We then talked about my problem, I wanted to have sex and I wanted to have babies and I wanted him to be the father. So she did what she does so well, she cut through all the obstructions and approached him one on one and told him that her roommate wanted to meet him. And she brought him home with her (to our apartment).

I tried to be coy, she was direct. She told him that I wanted to have sex with him, that I wanted him as the father of my children. She proposed a near term solution, he had sex with me and then we would see where it went. Agreed, then go on back to your room and get what you want. The first day I met him I had sex with him. It was everything you expect, I had rehearsed in my mind a million times. He gets you naked, touches you 'there', gets you aroused and then one, two bang, thank you ma'am and he gets up.

We fed him dinner.

In time I sent her back to the bedroom with him, he was all for it. There was no getting her aroused, she didn't want to have anything to do with it. But she had the place and he had the instrument and she got 'laid' and and she didn't die from it.

We served him dinner.

We have been together, in this odd triangle. He has sex with me and I have sex with him. He has sex with her and she claims not to have sex with him, she just doesn't want to end up in argument. We serve him dinner. Things have gotten a bit out of hand with her and we have gone down the path where she ends up touching me in places and works off her frustrations like that. It's not boy girl girl. It's boy girl, boy girl, girl girl. We live like that and we serve him dinner.

We don't have the house in the suburbs and we don't have any kids. Me personally, I'm the one that washes the dirty underwear and she's the one that has the big time job. She has what she wants, he has what he wants, and I have what I want. And we all three give in a little to let the other one have what they want. She doesn't have to look outside the home, he doesn't have to look for it, and I have their attention, one at a time. And I wash the dirty underwear. Someone had to do it. And we serve him dinner.