“Do you want to hook up with us?” I asked, gesturing toward my gorgeous friend Ren.*
The classmate I was so casually propositioning, a football player from the entrepreneurship class I hated, was frozen in shock.
“What?”
The music was loud. Maybe he didn’t hear me.
“Do you want to hook up with us? Both of us?”
The only girl assigned to his group of student-athletes-slash-Business-majors (the standard combo) I had carried our class project on my tiny shoulders. Unfortunately, it was looking like he wouldn’t be picking me up on his broad, beefy ones to return the favor. We got a B+ for the final grade, but right now, I wanted the D. Ren and I were determined to have a threesome before we graduated.
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As a mostly straight-A student and life-long overachiever, goal-setting has always been one of my strengths. Brown University early decision (just like Summer Roberts on the OC)? Check. Double Concentration in Theatre Arts and Business, Entrepreneurship, and Organizations? Check. Lose my virginity freshman year? Check. Have my first orgasm? Check (with a vibrator obviously). Fuck in as many iconic collegy locations as possible—the lecture hall where I had econ, the room where my improv team practiced, on student theater sets (oops), on and off campus? Check. Check. Check. Check. Threesome…? Not yet. And with only a week left of senior year, it was the last thing on my bucket list.
“You guys should kiss,” suggested a hockey player (our next prospect) as we grinded on him at the aptly named Last Chance Dance.
Ren and I looked at each other and giggled, suddenly shy. Should we?
We had come up with our plan that night while getting tipsy on cranberry vodkas sponsored by the class board. Ren and I had known each other since our sophomore year. We were the kind of friends that caught up at parties or grabbed Joe’s classic spicy chicken sandwiches with cheese (affectionately known as “spicy withs”) together after class. Which is to say we were friendly, but not intimate. She didn’t know my secrets and hadn’t seen me naked in the way girls casually do with their closest friends. But something about the pair of us encouraged the other to be bolder in her naughtiest impulses. We were single girls who both wanted to have a threesome, a last hurrah. And the logistics would only become more of a nightmare after graduation. Would it be so crazy to check it off the list together?
Ren pulled me in close on the dance floor. She’s taller than me, all long hair and long legs. Our lips met, softly at first, as her fingers pressed on the back of my neck. I had always envied hands like hers, so feminine and delicate.
“Damn!” yelled the awe-struck hockey player.
People around us had started to notice and the attention pushed us deeper into the make-out. I loved feeling their eyes on us in our party dresses as Ren held me tightly against her and I ran my fingers through her enviably long, thick hair. I knew we must look beautiful together, and that turned me on.
We broke apart and laughed. That was fun! And so easy, like breathing. No awkwardness, weird teeth, or too much tongue. We just naturally knew what the other would like.
“Are you in?” Ren asked the hockey player.
We intimidated him. He wasn’t sure he could perform. He had been drinking. Maybe another time.
But we were running out of time. We were only days away from walking through the Van Wickle Gates, a sacred Brown tradition. Freshmen proceed through a special entrance to campus that is ceremoniously opened during Convocation and leave through it as seniors at Commencement. The rest of the year the gates are closed, and everyone on campus knows it’s bad luck to walk through them before your graduation. Through the gates is adulthood: taxes, mortgages, promotions, real world responsibilities, and disappointments. Behind them, I could still be anything I wanted to be. And I wasn’t ready to leave—certainly not without a threesome, anyway.
But by that point in the night, we had unsuccessfully approached every man at the party that we agreed was hot enough to get a chance to join us. We were offering them the opportunity of a lifetime, and they had all come up short. You would think in the Ivy League, the same men who would go on to found start-ups and become CEOs after graduation would have seen a lucrative deal when one literally fell into their laps and onto their dicks. Two headstrong, sexy women for the price of one! There should have been a goddamn bidding war.
With no one left to proposition, Ren and I went home for the night. I thought about other options from my past. Of course, like any girl in improv, I had spent most of my college career rotating through crushes on the guys on my team, one of which was particularly debilitating and left me heartbroken for three years. No, we weren’t going to have a threesome with an improviser.
But surely there were others to choose from! What about my moody former fuck buddy and almost birthday twin, with whom I had annual b-day sex at midnight when his birthday became mine? Or my gay best friend’s hot roommate? Or the guy from Persuasive Communication class who was, it turns out, very persuasive? Or the short king on the frisbee team? Or the brooding jazz guitarist studying at music school a train ride away? No one felt right. This wasn’t just any hookup. We’d upped the ante, and I didn’t want to bet on a guy who had already lost his chances with me. Now that the prize pot had literally doubled, they weren’t invited back to the table.
The next day, Ren texted me at 12:47 a.m. She’d had better luck.
“I just had amazing fucking sex with Charlie*,” she announced. “I recommend him for our mission.”
Charlie. Of course I had seen him around. He was hard to miss. He was enormous. He could break me in two. Jackpot.
“I’m down. Let’s do it,” I texted back almost instantly.
I rushed to Charlie’s off-campus house where he and Ren had already been fucking. They had exchanged numbers a few days ago at a senior week toga party. And tonight, like a good friend, Ren wanted to share.
When I arrived, Charlie poured us shots of tequila as we sat on his bed. His hand was in a brace, some sports injury, but he didn’t seem phased. One hand, two pussies, no problem. Ren was flushed and almost giddy. I was nervous and buzzing. We were going to do this. He had just been inside her and now he was going to be inside me.
We took off our clothes. Charlie towered over us.
“You are so pretty. Look at you.” Ren said, glancing down at my body.
“But so are you!” I chimed back.
Ren and I took each other in. I had never seen her like this. Actually, I had never seen any other girl like this, even my closest friends. Naked together, touching the parts of each other that we don’t usually see. Who knew about these hidden freckles? Or her perfect nipples, another thing to be envious of!
We kissed, this time a private show just for Charlie. Her thigh was so soft and smooth beneath my touch. Her hands were so milky pale compared to mine, even against the skin between the tan lines on my breasts. We laughed. How weird! To be naked with my friend. To compare our pussies, both perfect. How fun!
I kissed Charlie as Ren watched and I felt so small. He was so masculine. A man-man, so unlike my roster of skinny fuck-buddies or the improviser I was so torn up about. Together, Ren and I sucked Charlie’s cock—and let me tell you, a blow job is so much more fun with a friend. As Samantha Jones put it, they don’t call it a job for nothing, and it was nice to divide the labor for once. We made a good team—handing off the sucking, licking, rubbing, and kissing each other in between.
We laughed a lot. Tangling and untangling our limbs as Charlie took the lead, sliding into me as I rode him or flipping Ren to take her from behind. It was sexy how confident he was, one hand be damned, and Ren was there with the assist. She had already cum before I even arrived, so I was getting most of the attention. And I loved it.
I lay on my back as Charlie thrust inside me, gripping my hip in place with his good hand while Ren wrapped her leg around my side, kissing me and stroking my hair. I was being fucked hard and softly at the same time and my head was empty of any thoughts besides how wet I was and how good every single sensation felt. I was pillow princess as Charlie and Ren used their mouths and fingers and his cock to take care of me. Now that is a really good friend.
We fucked until we were exhausted, sweaty and hot. Charlie had been inside me for most of the final act when he pulled out to cum on my stomach. Mission accomplished.
And what do you do after you successfully complete a threesome with a friend and her hookup? You cuddle, of course. Charlie was a big enough spoon for the two of us, and we all snuggled in together, high off the rush. What the fuck did we just do?! This is what college is all about!
After a bit, I removed myself from our three-way cuddle to head home. Charlie was Ren’s find. I was just the special guest.
The last few days before commencement were a blur. Last parties! Last goodbyes! Last spicy with! And suddenly, somehow, I was in my graduation cap, parading with my classmates down the hill. One last thing left on my to-do list. Graduate.
In the mass of excited seniors, Ren and I ran into each other and continued our walk together. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a massive figure with a brace peeking out his gown approaching us from behind.
“Figures I’d see you two here.”
Charlie joined us—our third once again. To any of our classmates or the cheering parents, alums, and undergrads we passed, we seemed like a normal trio of graduates, but we knew that wasn’t true. We were, ahem, a threesome of students who had shared a bit more than just precious collegiate memories.
And with that last college sexperience checked off my bucket list, it was happening. I was leaving. And I was ready. Walk through the Van Wickle gates and onward to adulthood? Check.
*Name has been changed.
Jenny Gorelick is a comedian and writer based in Brooklyn. She's been called a “crushworthy comedian” by Time Out New York. Her writing has been featured in the New York Times’s Modern Love column, McSweeney’s, and New Yorker Shouts & Murmurs. Follow her on Instagram.
