Fourplay4: Paula

First of all, ignore everything everybody else said. Either it’s out and out lying (Emma,) or the result of a complete lack of insight (Daryl,) or somebody twisting everything around to make it all prettier than it was and to make himself look good (Christian.) Nobody told the truth about what happened, but I will. I’ll tell you the truth.

I wasn’t going to. I knew the others were going to tell their stories but I felt no need to. It happened. So what? But then I read what they had written about me and I knew I would have to set the record straight. So here it goes. To deconstruct:

LIE #1- In Emma’s account, she said that I had never been with a woman before her. I may have let her believe this at the start, it seemed important to her that she was my first, but later on I confessed everything to her. She knew about the others, and she should have said so.

During my Freshman year in college I must have fucked a dozen girls. I thought I was a lesbian then, and there were so many little chickies away from home for the first time willing to try anything new. I went to bed with anyone who would let me have them.

Here are just a few:

Louisa, all-gay, who had rings on every finger which rubbed my clit almost raw. She wasn’t very pretty, and treated me kind of rough, but she was my first and so will always have a special place in my heart.

Shy Ardelia, terrified that anyone would find out she was gay, who was driven to fits of guilt by her Christian upbringing and begged me to go to church with her so we could repent together, but who had the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.

Courtney, the Art major, had a huge collection of sex toys, and took a series of artful black-and-white photographs with said toys penetrating my every orifice. I had never enjoyed anal love until Courtney and her magic beads.

Katie, the hippie chick, who had a fantastic, voluptuous body, but who refused to shave her armpits and claimed that deodorant was a bourgeois affectation. She freaked out on Ecstasy during the second term and dropped out of school. I was a bit relieved, as this spared me the distasteful act of having to dump her.

Christina, with whom I shared a dorm room for a while. A Prozac freak and maybe the only girl I was ever with who was crazier than me. She was prone to self-destructive behavior, drug-and-alcohol binges and wild promiscuous sprees. I broke it off with her because I was afraid she was going to give me a disease. When I told her I was dumping her, she actually beat the shit out of me. I had a black eye for a week.

Carol, my Poetry instructor, a married woman in her fifties. She had guilt issues, too, and I guess I deliberately provoked her by calling her “Mom” when we were having sex. I think the only reason I got an A in her class was because she was afraid I was going to tell someone about our affair.

Then there was that girl I sucked off at a party, I never got her name. She was half-conscious, but I got her off with my tongue and two fingers while a room full of people watched and cheered me on.

Of course, there were others, one-night stands mostly. So Emma’s full of shit when she says she “initiated” me. I fucked twice as many girls as she did. Back then I was trying to deny that men had any power over me.

Still, Emma was my first “real” girlfriend, the only girl I was ever with for more than a few weeks. We were together for almost three years, and I guess I loved her. She was the first one to really take charge of me. I had been the dominant one in all my previous relationships with women, but Emma definitely wore the pants in our house. I liked that. It was less work.

She was a great fuck, too. The best. A lot of other girls I’d been with had no idea what to do with a vagina. You would think it would come naturally, but you’d be surprised how many girls can’t even find your clit unless you draw them a map. Emma knew how to play my body like a musical instrument, though. Even today, when I think about her hands and her mouth on me, on my tits, between my legs, I lose it. Nobody I’ve been with since has come close. She’s the only lover I ever take in fantasy when I masturbate. My panties are soaked right now, just from writing about her.

The memory of the sex is almost enough to wipe out the other memories, of what a manipulative bitch she was. Almost, but not quite.

LIE #2- Also from Emma’s account: “Paula and I had been together exclusively for two years before I started to get a serious craving for dick.” She was fucking around on me from the start. I could tell. No matter how thoroughly she thought she washed it off, I could taste it on her. The boy-taste. The smell. I tolerated it, though, and never confronted her. Because it was just men. If I thought she’d been with another woman, I would have slit her throat when she slept. I mean it, too.

I never saw any of the guys she fucked, though. Not until Daryl. He was the first one she brought home, the first one she admitted to. Emma had always had a thing about fags. Nothing got her hotter than gay porn. I never understood this, myself. I always thought it was sort of gross to watch a guy sucking cock or fucking some other guy in the ass, but Emma loved it. And Daryl was way gay. I don’t know how she managed it, but she had not only seduced him, but got him to keep coming back for more.

We had shared a fantasy for a long time about having a three-way with a man. I was fine with the fantasy, but Emma was very serious about making it real. I knew that she really wanted to set it up with Daryl. I was willing, for reasons which I’ll go into in a minute, but Daryl balked at the idea. It was strange enough for him to go to bed with one woman, let alone two. It wasn’t until Christian came along that Emma was able to make it happen.

LIE #3- This from Daryl: “Paula . . . was either rabidly jealous that I was screwing Emma, or moony-eyed like she was falling in love with me.” He had no idea what was going on in my head, and he shouldn’t have speculated. I was a little freaked out by Daryl, but not for the reasons he thought. It was because Daryl looked almost exactly like Adam, a guy who raped me a few years before.

I call it rape, but maybe I should explain a bit more. This happened at a party during the summer after I graduated from high school. I drank more than I should have, and was sort of half passed out on the couch. It got to be late, most everybody else went home, and I was carried into a bedroom. Before I could fully come awake, I was thrown onto a bed and my clothes were torn off. Then this guy, Adam, who I only sort of knew, had his way with me. Repeatedly, all night long.

He forced himself on me, and I resisted. He was rough enough with me to leave me bruised all over. He threatened to beat me up if I left the room or if I ever told. All these things are true, and yet I hesitate to call it rape. If it was rape, why did I orgasm? Not just once, but many times. If it was rape, why did I go to him later and ask for it to happen again? If it was rape, why was I so devastated when he refused me? If it was rape, why did I pray to God that I’d get pregnant so I could have a piece of Adam with me forever?

So it kind of messed me up, as you can see. And then along comes Daryl, another tall, lean man with the same sandy-brown hair, the same angular features, the same piercing brown eyes. Daryl acted like Adam, too, confident to the point of cockiness. Even their pricks looked alike. Fat and weighty, monstrous, darker than the rest of their bodies, with pointed heads the color of indigo.

I wondered how the hell Emma had known. I had told her that I was raped, but I hadn’t gone into much detail. So how did she know? How had she found someone just like him? Jesus.

Then Christian entered the picture, and it got even weirder. Just as Daryl reminded me of Adam, Christian was just like the only other man I’d ever been with. My brother Ronnie.

Ronnie took my virginity, but he didn’t by any means molest me. I had wanted him badly for years. It wasn’t until I was eighteen and he was twenty that I made the fantasy come true, though. I seduced him one day when he was home from college, simply walked into his room wearing nothing but an old t-shirt and begged him to eat my pussy. We carried on an intense affair for months, fucking whenever we got the chance. We finally stopped because we were afraid of getting caught, and also because we were both starting to lose ourselves in the perversion.

So Emma reeled in Christian, the spitting image. Thin, short, dark-haired and light-hearted, but with the same curious intensity when it came to sex.

The two men I’d been with, the two great shames of my life. Incest and rape. And Emma had managed to find their twins.

Daryl and Christian matched Adam and Ronnie down to the smallest detail. Even the taste of their cum. Daryl’s, like Adams, was thin and watery, slightly salty but essentially tasteless. Christian’s was more like Ronnie’s; thicker, almost curd-like, with this slight underlying bitterness. Repulsive but irresistible. Once I went down on Emma after both Daryl and Christian had come inside her, and I could taste all of my lovers at once. It was so heady and fragrant I gagged, but it was so wonderful I could have drank from the well forever.

LIE #4- Daryl’s account of the first night we all four got together is seriously flawed. It might be correct from his point of view, but there was a lot he either didn’t see, or chose not to include. Christian, who is normally at least a little more perceptive than that lunk-head Daryl, only says: “Daryl’s account is . . . pretty accurate, and more detailed than anything I would have to say.” Maybe it’s a guy thing. When men describe sex, they get lost in the details of who did what to whose genitals, and tend to not even see the emotions at play behind the scenes.

Emma had told me beforehand what was going to happen that night, and didn’t want to hear any of my protests.

“Daryl and Christian are coming over for dinner tonight,” she said, stepping into our room naked, toweling off from her shower. “I want you to be there.”

“Why?” I challenged, even though I knew.

Emma smiled. “I’m going to fuck both of them. They’re going to fuck each other. And you’re going to fuck all three of us.”

“No,” I said.

“Yes, Paula,” Emma said. “You are.”

She got dressed for the evening, pulling on a thin cotton dress which clung to her damply. She didn’t bother with underwear. She seldom did. Usually, she only wore panties when she was on her period, and I don’t even think she owned a bra. Not that she needed one, with her small, firm breasts. So unlike my heavy, back-breaking tits.

“You should dress kind of slutty, too,” she said. “Christian would like that.”

“I don’t want to do this, Emma,” I said weakly.

“Yes you do,” Emma said. “Don’t pussy out now.”

For the past several nights, Emma had told me about her exploits with Daryl and Christian. How she’d gone to a gay bar dressed as a guy and picked up Daryl. How Daryl had taken her home and fucked her in the ass so she could “take it like a man.” How she’d gone home with Christian after work and sucked him off, then fed his cum back to him and made him promise to suck cock for her. How she had hooked the two of them up, and directed her own private gay porno, Daryl screwing Christian’s virgin ass. There was a huge cum stain on our couch, if I needed proof.

The jealousy and arousal I’d felt at her tales was more or less equal. I got pissed off and turned on at the same time, the two emotions so entwined there was no practical difference between them. The sex we had after her “bedtime stories” was more intense than it had ever been between us since we first got together. I couldn’t deny that. She’d made me tell her what I wanted to do with them, with her boy toys.

Now I was starting to feel qualms of doubt, but it was clear Emma wasn’t going to let me back out. I resented the amount of control she had over me, and at the same time I wanted her all to myself. I didn’t want to share. She wanted to share me, though, and that hurt. Then, mixed in with all these other emotions was curiosity about being with a guy again, and the thrill of the forbidden that came from contemplating a group scene. As if that wasn’t enough, there was the darker feelings I felt towards Daryl. I was so confused by all these overwhelming, conflicting emotions. Dubiousness, jealousy, hurt, curiosity, arousal, desire, lust, and a dozen other feelings so nebulous they had no name, all at once. Since I couldn’t begin to say what I wanted for myself, it was easier to just surrender my will to Emma’s. So I went with the flow. I let it happen.

The boys came over. We all ate the steak dinner I had helped Emma prepare. Several bottles of wine. A few joints. John Coltrane on the stereo. It was almost ridiculous, how cliche and transparent the scene was. Still, I couldn’t help but respond. I was turned on, I couldn’t deny it. When Emma took off her dress and poured wine all over herself, I thought she was being so ridiculously histrionic, but at the same time I wanted to be the first to drink the Merlot from her pussy.

Then there was a fumbling group grope on the floor, all of us getting sticky with the spilled wine. It was too messy and awkward for me to really get into it, but everyone else was really turned on. Daryl and Christian both had these gigantic boners, and I have to admit that it was kind of cool to watch when Daryl took Christian in his mouth and sucked him.

I was watching this man-to-man blowjob, fascinated, when Emma whispered in my ear: “I want Christian to fuck you.”

I tried to make some kind of protest, but before I could say anything, Emma was pulling Christian’s prick out of Daryl’s mouth.

“Christian,” she said. “Paula wants you to fuck her.”

She pushed me back on the floor. Christian crawled on top of me. He stuck it in. I had wanted the guys to wear condoms, I was going to insist on it, but all my better judgements were destroyed by Emma’s will. He entered me naked.

I was reminded of the first time Ronnie fucked me. The first time anyone did. My vagina clenched up tight and virginal. It hurt when he penetrated me. But it felt right. The pain felt right.

“Kiss me,” Christian said, and it sounded like a command, like something Emma would say. I resented that, but I relished my resentment. I obeyed. He drove it into me and I kissed him, hating him and loving his cock inside me. Or maybe I loved him and hated being fucked. It was all fucked up, but I kissed him anyway and had a defiant orgasm, my cunt contracting even more painfully tight around his filthy prick.

Emma laid beside me on the floor while Daryl fucked her, her legs wrapped around his waist like the slutty whore she was. I hated her and I loved her, too.

Daryl pulled out of Emma and his prick was spurting all over the place. He must have shot a big load into her, though, because Emma commanded Christian to stop fucking me and suck Daryl’s cum out of her pussy. Christian pulled out of me, and I resented that, too. That he was so weak-willed he would do whatever Emma told him to do.

That left me facing Daryl’s cock, which glistened with Emma’s juices and his own pearly-white semen. I realized, seeing it up close for the first time, that his cock was smaller than Adam’s was. They never look as big when you see them up close.

Daryl caught me staring at it, and I said, just to be polite, “I’ve never seen one so big. May I suck it?”

Such a joke, but he laid back and let me go to work on him. I liked that he tasted like Emma, so familiar, but with a salty boyish spice that made it new.

I was just beginning to get into it when Emma, jealous that I was paying attention to someone other than her, ordered me to go down on her. She said that Christian wasn’t doing it as well as I could. Whatever.

I sucked on my girlfriend’s pussy, but her usual sweetness was corrupted by the stale-tasting wine and Christian’s saliva and what remained of Daryl’s cum. She was not-so-fresh, as the saying goes, but I kissed her clit and rammed my tongue into her corrupted vagina and then felt Christian worming his face between my legs. He did this fairly well, for a guy, which was another trait he shared with my brother.

I looked over and saw that Daryl was sucking Christian’s cock, and Emma was sucking Daryl’s. With me at Emma and Christian at me, this meant that everyone had a mouthful of someone else. So this was the Great Circle Suck that they all talked about, the Famous Double 69. I wasn’t that impressed. Whatever pleasure I might have got from it was countered by the painful cramp in my neck and the rug burn. Plus, when Christian started to get blown, he lost all his focus and his technique totally went to hell.

I didn’t come. It sure wasn’t the “spinning weightless spiral of orgasms” that Daryl described. Still, as experiences go, I have to admit that the whole thing was pretty unique. It was a night I won’t soon forget.

LIE #5- From Christian: “Paula told me about an elaborate fantasy she’d worked out in her head, that we were all one family. Emma was the mother, Daryl the father, and she and I were brother and sister. It was more than slightly creepy, especially when she called them ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’ and insisted that I call her ‘little sister’ when we fucked.”

I said that once! As a joke! It wasn’t an “elaborate fantasy.” It was a silly little daydream. Plus, I swore him to secrecy and I’m more than a little bit pissed that he told the whole world about it. I thought Christian was the one I could trust. Turns out I can’t trust anyone.

LIE #6- I guess, to be honest, I’m the biggest liar of them all. For all the shit I just said about them, I would give anything to have things they were. Anything in the world. I loved them, all three of them, and I pushed them all away. It was so good, and I fucked it up. We all did. We had something perfect and we just let it slip away. And now we have to spend the rest of our lives having tasted Heaven, and knowing that whatever pleasures we taste from here on will be insufferably bland in comparison.