Things They Don’t Tell You About Sex

Posted by: Sam Sharpe    Tags:  , ,     Posted date:  April 23, 2012  |  2 Comments




SAM SHARPE

So, I was at a house party. I was chilling with my crew, cutting a mean figure on the living room’s makeshift dance floor, drink in hand. I knew about half the people there. The other half? Nada. Bupkus. Zilch. Zero. They could have been Klansmen or Ewoks as far as I knew. As the evening progressed and the crowd thinned a little, pockets of conversation or dance or conversation and dance formed along the walls and within the nooks and crannies of the house.

I stared into my glass contemplating the pros, cons and related matters of a refill. Rum? Scotch? Neat? On the rocks? With soda?

“Are you trying to find your reflection in the ice cubes”, said a voice at the very moment I decided to stick with rum. I looked up to see a brown haired, olive skinned woman about my height. I hadn’t noticed her before but her voice was as pleasing as her smile.

She talked a lot. She switched subjects casually. She spoke as if she knew me. She leaned in. I could feel her breath on my neck.

Then her boyfriend came.

“Oh…I’m Alicia”, she said, “This is Brian”

“Brian. Alicia, I’m Sam, it’s a pleasure to meet you both”, I replied.

Alicia resumed talking to me about something, I can’t remember what  she was gabbing about now but at the time it seemed urgent. Brian remained silent. Something about his presence irked me. He would occasionally touch Alicia’s shoulder or squeeze her hand. Alicia didn’t seem to notice. She was so focused on….me. Smiling and leaning in. Still. Even with Brian beside her.

Frankly, I was a little bored. I raised my glass to eye level, tilted my head and said “I think I need a refill.”

I went in search of rum.

Jimmy, a former housemate of mine met a couple at the grocery store. The man was well into his 50s but she was young, maybe just a few years older than Jimmy. They chatted whenever they bumped into each other in the produce aisle or bulk food section or something of the sort.

One night, on his way home from dinner, Jimmy decided to have a drink at a nearby pub. The couple was there. They shared a few drinks. When Jimmy was ready to call it a night they begged him to stay.

“Frankly Jimmy, I want you to fuck my wife”, the man said, “And I want to watch you do it.”

Many moons ago, back in my university days, I was at a party with my best friend and his f*ck buddy. When the reggae set came on, people hit the dance floor like bees to honey. The three of us stayed in the corner. My friend was against the wall, she faced me with her back to him. She danced seductively between us, grabbed my hand and pulled me in closer.

My friend started kissing the back of her neck; instinctively she tilted her head to one side revealing more of her neck and her collarbone. I love collarbones. I couldn’t resist. Next thing I know, I’m kissing her collarbone, my friend is playing with her nipples, I’ve got my hands between her legs and I couldn’t hear the music anymore.

I found the rum I was looking for in the kitchen. My friend Sue, sister to the hostess, was pouring herself a glass of wine.

“So what’s with you and your new friends“, she said, dragging out the words with relish.

“What are you talking about?”

She laughed. “You don’t know do you, you have no idea what was just happening to you”

I stared at her silently.

“Alicia and Brian have a thing for black men. I’m pretty sure Alicia was sizing you up.”

“Whatever”

“Okay, don’t believe me”, she said as we made our way back into the party. We stood just outside the kitchen. We could see Alicia and Brian across the room talking to this black dude. Alicia was leaning in, talking and smiling with this dude and Brian silently stood by her side; just like they had with me.

Sue turned to me with a smirk. “Looks like you’ve lost your chance”, she said.

The man asked Jimmy if he wanted a little “reefer”. Two things: to this day, whenever I hear the word reefer I think of Jimmy. And when the man said reefer Jimmy said he wanted to laugh; like seriously, who even says reefer anymore.

Anyway, Jimmy took a couple of drags, passed it back to the man and watched the woman undress.

The man said he wanted to watch his wife give Jimmy head. Who says no to a blow job Jimmy thought?

The man sat down on the sofa. After a little foreplay, Jimmy and the woman started to go at it like dogs. He did everything the man asked for; hair pulling, ass slapping, doggystyle etc. The man unzipped and started jerking off.

“Can I step in now”, the man said.

“Of course”, Jimmy replied,  stepping aside and seeing the man enter his wife from behind. After a few minutes the man stopped.

“I want to watch you cum on my wife”. Jimmy took off his condom, stepped towards the bed and with the help of this man’s wife, did just that.

We talked about going back to someone’s place and finishing what we started. But it was super late and we were all hungry. We decided to eat first. We stopped by a neighbourhood diner and filled ourselves; somewhere between the poutine, burgers and soft drinks we sobered up. All of a sudden this threesome didn’t seem like such an inevitable thing.

We talked about it though. She said she would do it. He said he’d do it. And I said I would do it. As long as our swords didn’t cross; I mean we were both pretty open minded and we were very close. But we weren’t that close.

It never happened.

To this day, he and I still talk about it, talk about the what ifs, talk about the fact we should have struck the hammer while the iron was hot, how we took it for granted, how we figured there would always be another party, another chance. But I graduated that year, he graduated the year after and the opportunity never came again.

Years later I run into her at a party. She looked pretty much the same and said I did too, except for the smattering of grey in my beard. She told me she was married to some bloke she met in grad school. I congratulated her and wished her well.

When I told my friend I ran into her we couldn’t help but reminisce, to rehash the old what ifs. It really is or was a case of “snooze you lose”, of opportunity lost. I mean, she’s married, and married people don’t do that kind of shit right?

Right?