How Lucky is it

Note: This is, in fact, a true story. I write this the evening of the second day of events occurring in the following short story. All names have been changed to protect the innocent (and the innocent-that-aren’t-really-anymore).

How Lucky is it

It was Rachel’s birthday party. The preface was this: everyone was dressed as a musician of some sort. My friend Meg and I went as two members of Rammstein. Rachel was David Bowie. Our friend Brian was Clay Aiken because it was the only person he could think of that he looked even remotely like.

Rachel has a long history of drama, far more interesting than any of mine. Hers spans years. She has dated Jesse for a very long time, and they are very sexually active. Between one of the pair’s many relationships, Rachel dated a very effeminate boy named Ruby that she has maintained a working friendship with for some time. There is a very large amount of sexual tension between the two because Rachel’s sexual relationship with Jesse is unfulfilling, and she believes one with Ruby would prove different.

Ruby lives in a town farther away and comes to visit, staying with his friend Mark. Now Mark is an interesting one: I’ve seen him many times, and since I first saw him three years ago, he’s changed very much. It’s really fascinating how it happens. But Ruby was invited to the party and as Mark was his ride, both of them came. Mark was Elton John, and Ruby was someone else, but didn’t do a very good job, so I didn’t remember it.

I have needed to get laid for a very long time now. As I talked to Ruby, which I never did when he went to our school last year, I learned he was in a similar position. We joked about going out to my car and getting down and dirty in the back seat. The idea was intriguing, but not necessarily tempting. However, I found him vaguely attractive and thus offered to give he and Mark a ride home if they wanted to stay a little longer. They did, naturally.

Now, as per the sexual tension, Ruby and Rachel were all over each other—since Rachel’s parents hate Jesse and he wasn’t at the party, and no one was about to burst Rachel’s bubble—and usually, I would find myself put-off by this: that the boy I intended to screw was very much into someone else. However, Rachel is my best friend and the fact that I wasn’t disturbed merely proved my point on how much I needed action and how little I needed emotion. My direction was clear.

As we drove to Mark’s house, which is between mine and Rachel’s, we discussed Mark’s innocence and virginity and how much we needed to rid him of it. Naturally these thoughts turned into many dark corners and as my parents were out of town until sometime the next day, I invited them to come over. However, I already had my friend Joshua stopping by at around midnight. The time: half-past eleven. Mark called his mother and his phony excuse was shot down. However, before we dropped him off, we needed to kill some ten or more minutes.

I asked, “Is there a park around here?”

Mark replied, “Yes, just around the block.”

We parked and got out of the car. There were two older people sitting on a bench across from the playground—we jumped onto the set and started playing while trying to keep quiet. I called Joshua and asked him to come fifteen or twenty minutes later than I previously said. Ruby was touching me and being very suggestive, and the two of us managed to maintain conversation with Mark rather easily. Mark, having a rather untouched mind in comparison with either of us, was fascinated. Quite suddenly, something happened.

Ruby looked at me, then at Mark, and told me, “Kiss him.” I blink.

“What?” I glanced at Mark. He resembled a deer caught in the headlights—a rather cute one. I’ve thought this the last few times I saw him. So I said, “Well, does he want to be kissed?”

Mark didn’t say anything, so I asked, “Yes or no?” He quickly nodded his head.

“Yes.” In a few easy strides I crossed to him, put my arms around his neck and kissed him with his eyes still wide open. When I was done, I strode back to Ruby and he kissed me, as well—this continued for some moments until I realized that I did in fact have to get these boys home relatively soon. We parted and walked back to my car.

As I drove them home Ruby said to me, “Call us tomorrow. We should get together then, before your parents come home.” This was a good idea, so we all agreed to it. Well, relatively—Mark was nervous, and I thought for sure that it would end up being merely Ruby and I when it came down to the fact.
I came home and sat outside with my dog to wait for Joshua. After some time he arrived and informed me that he had brought a bottle of Vodka; thinking about it now, my stomach lurches. We gathered orange juice, small cappuccino cups—my family doesn’t drink and we had no shot glasses—and a cardboard box top to put on the carpet floor. We then began pouring shots.

We were playing videogames and drinking when I began to get past tipsy and into completely drunk. It only takes four or five shots with me for I am a very small person—Joshua was still doing all right at that point. We walked around the house and talked like idiots. A few times I switched into other languages and couldn’t tell the difference until Joshua said he couldn’t understand a word I was saying.
After throwing up, dragging myself into bed and waking up with a moaning, rolling stomach, I realized that it might have been a bad idea to trash myself the night before I planned to threesome with two younger boys. I could only sigh and throw myself into the shower.

Some preparation later I called Ruby and told him I was ready to leave. He and Mark would be ready when I showed up. Luckily, Joshua had cleaned up some of the things I left around before he took off sometime in the early morning, so I had little to do before I went. I arrived at the house and both boys got in the car. Ruby was very overeager. I took them back to my place and began telling them what happened the night before, and how unwell I felt this morning. I know Ruby knew what I meant: there probably wasn’t going to be any sex while I felt this shitty.

I gave them a tour of my house and then some small talk and hyperactivity later, I was naked and each boy was shirtless. This is when Ruby informs me of this:

“This is great for Mark,” he said.

I glanced at him. “Why do you say that?”

The two boys shot a look. Ruby told me, “Mark’s had a crush on you since his eighth grade, your sophomore year.”

I stared blankly. I only remembered seeing Mark a few times and never really found that we got along, or that we even really talked at all. I hadn’t seen him much again until recently. I was surprised that for having such a small school we still never really managed to communicate at all. However, when I thought about it, I did notice that he had always been rather nice to me. I look at Mark and all he can do is smile sheepishly. He was very cute, I had to admit.

“That’s adorable,” I said, and thought that probably wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but was what he expected. Sadly, I didn’t really know of anything else that suited him.

“I remember the exact day, too,” he said, and fondled my nipple. Ruby had his arms around me from behind and Mark was teasing my breasts. It was very enjoyable. “It was in gym that year.”

I blinked. “I took gym?” He laughed.

“We had gym together. You came in wearing a Dragonball Z t-shirt and I liked you right then.

I giggled and said to him, “If it helps at all, I love that shirt too.”

That was what I needed to hear—that some cute boy had had a crush on me for almost three years and I had absolutely no idea. It was the self-esteem boost that I needed. It was a little sad, though, when I asked Ruby about it later and he said, “Mark didn’t tell you because he knew he didn’t have a chance.” I wondered and still do if that’s true.

We played for nearly half an hour, and I have never felt as beautiful as I did then. I sat on Ruby’s lap with his finger in me and my arms around Mark’s neck kissing him passionately. We formed a beautiful circle. Ruby was terribly crushed that there would be no actual sex involved, but I have reason to believe that both Mark and I were satisfied with the result—some nudity, kissing and fondling. I found it very fulfilling. When I grew lightheaded from my hangover, I told them we ought to all get dressed and go out to get something to eat. An agreement was formed and we left for the mall.

In the afternoon we found ourselves at Mark’s house with a girl who appeared to be Mark’s potential girlfriend. She was very pretty, but very shy and not much appealing in the way of personality—she did seem good for a mother-needing boy like Mark, though. I had no trouble with the arrangement there, for all I had to do was wink at Mark when she wasn’t watching and he would blush like a tomato and grin. Ruby was another story, however; he touched me continually and it grew obnoxious very quickly. He asked me for a kiss and I sizzled like a chicken kabob on the grill. However, I said nothing and waited until the girl left—then I got in snuggling with Mark on the couch and Ruby doing his own thing elsewhere. We remained like this for some time, even when Mark and Ruby’s mutual friend Jon arrived.
We talked a lot of the summer and all the possibilities it holds. Already I want to go back to walking through the mall holding two boys’ hands. I feel it is reasonable to assume that Mark and I will get busy like rabbits in the coming months.

The prospects are bright.

And besides, how often in a life does one get twenty-four hours of the same wonderful, surrealistic quality? It’s a rare thing, and as Ruby said it, “This is one that will be written into my memoirs.”