The EDGE Blog

Erotica: Threesomes Are Not Like Porn


Here’s a touch of erotica pulled from the author’s personal life experience. It’s been rewritten from the perspective of a penis owner. As a reader, how do you think they did?


Real-life threesomes are never like porn . . . and that’s pretty awesome.

My wife and our girlfriend sucked my cock, but not with heavy eye makeup and fake “mmm” sounds. They sucked it deep and slow, devouring one another’s kisses as they made a mess of my dick.

As predicted, I came far too fast. But of course, they were just getting started.

Our girlfriend hungrily pulled my wife on top of her and my wife growled and bit at her breasts, making everyone laugh.

She began to work her hand between our girlfriend’s legs. I watched like a blissfully helpless oaf as she slid one finger after another inside, causing our girlfriend to writhe like a sunbathing serpent.

By this point, I’d rounded the corner of overstimulation and was ready for more. My soft dick, however, had not caught up with my appetite.

Fortunately, I had just the tool for the job.

Round Two

PULSE DUO LUX held in one hand of three people on bedOn wobbly knees, I managed to crawl over to our bedstand. Pulling open the drawer, I fumbled around until I found what I was looking for: PULSE DUO LUX.

I raised one finger and tried to make a face cute enough to pardon my forthcoming interruption: “Uh, magical goddesses?”

Our girlfriend scowled, but my wife raised an eyebrow and extended a hand, “Yeeeees?”

She knew what I wanted: for her to control the vibrations of the silicone sleeve that I was about to wrap around my cock. I smiled smugly and strapped the watch-like remote around her wrist.

A brief foray into voyeurism

My wife went back to work, flipping our girlfriend over on all fours while I settled back onto a pillow and slid my cock into PULSE DUO’s chamber. “Go slow, please!” I yelped as my other half turned on the toy’s  PulsePlate technology. The throbbing, pulsing sensations that oscillated through my pelvis were nothing short of a roller coaster ride.

I heard our girlfriend’s voice drop an octave and knew that my wife had gotten her entire hand inside. Her orgasm sounded thunderous and terrifying, like a tsunami smashing against a cliff. The higher her energy got, the deeper my wife’s became, riding the waves with her, holding her as she melted and shook.

Emergency evacuation! I removed DUO LUX just in time. This toy will make you come FAST if you’re not careful.

Girls have all the fun

The Femme Fatales were giggling and I pried open my eyes to see them crawling toward me in my pitifully horny state.

My partners began smooching me all over my body, clearly enjoying my impatience. Playfully, they rubbed their nipples and pussies across my skin, laughing and taunting me. They kissed one another right above my head so that my face was lost in a sea of breasts. Helpless, I slid my hands between their slippery thighs and thought, “It could be worse.”

Just when I thought I would actually pass out (is there a word for suffocation by breast tissue?) somebody’s hand wrapped PULSE DUO LUX around my dick. My wife strapped the second remote to our girlfriend’s wrist and said, “Take a seat.” She plopped down on my face and they both began adjusting the vibrations of PULSE.

No rest for the wicked

I began praying for longevity and moaned into the soft grinding of my girlfriend’s pussy. The familiar curves of my wife’s thighs embraced my hips as she climbed on top of the toy.

“Will you play with my nipples?” a voice asked. Somebody must have obliged for a deluge of squeals and food sounds followed.

amo bullet vibe on white backgroundMy wife rode harder. Somebody turned up the PulsePlate, and I began to feel my entire pelvic bowl rumble, down to my taint, down to the very base of my cock. Our girlfriend began to use a vibe on her clit (I swear to God, she can pull that thing out of thin air!) and I knew that we were all about to come.

I’d like to compare the experience to an electrical storm, to say that we’re these magnificent forces of nature fulfilling our tantric potential. But sometimes a climax feels more like a drunkard falling onto a line of dominoes.

There was shaking, laughing, getting crushed under a pile of lovers, and “Oh God, turn it off, turn it off!” And there I was, twitching in a fetal position, cradled in the sweaty embrace of two sweaty goddesses.

Finally, a full five minutes of silence, before somebody said the inevitable . . . “Who’s making dinner?”

 

More from The Edge

Get Under the Sheets with us

Subscribe to our newsletter