Three’s company, Four’s a crowd

As I look back onto that summer night, I lower my head in shame.  How could we have done it?  We were four attractive, respectful and able young men.  Not one of us with a major handicap keeping us away from average sexual activity yet all of us seemed to attract certain situations with magnetic force.  These situations I’m referring to are best summed up as hogging - the activity where attractive men perform sexual acts with grotesque women.  On this particular summer night, it appears we went a little overboard and dry fucked the whole pig farm.

There were 4 of us.  Tyler, Ken, Shawn and Ray.  I’m Ray.  Well, not actually.  I’m obviously going to lie about my name along with the names of my three friends.  Lying about the females’ identities is pointless because I have no fucking clue what the names of those disasters were.  I want to clear something up now.  Plus size women - women who are born heavy - are beautiful no matter how large they are.  But women who are aware that eating two buckets instead of just one will add extra canvas to their painting are not so beautiful.  It’s hard to argue everyone is beautiful when some people clearly let themselves go.  This was the case here with Gertrude and Dumpy-tits.

The story begins with Aunt Rosa.  In high school, Tyler had the world’s coolest aunt.  Tyler’s aunt was a bit older and a widow.  She loved a full house and hated being alone.  No matter that it was already 2:30 in the morning and the four of us had been drinking, Aunt Rosa opened her door with fresh curlers and a handle of whiskey.  She informed us that Tyler’s older brother had just left with a few of his friends, but two young ladies were left behind.  She proceeded to give us that wink old people give when there’s sexual activity in the air but it’s not polite to talk about it.  Tyler, Ken, Shawn and myself made our way into the kitchen and there they stood… Gertrude and Dumpy-tits… the worst possible outcomes to any already rough night.

Gertrude was the least attractive of the two.  She had one of those nasty buzz-cuts that fell underneath a mop of hair so that at first glance, you think her hair is full, but when she sways you can see the shaved hair underneath.  She was also the larger of the two and lacking proper hygiene.  Dark rimmed glasses gave her a trailer-park sophistication and she boasted all too often about her sexy tongue ring.

Dumpy-tits was the Cinderella of the evening.  Except in this story, once the clock struck midnight, Cinderella’s two-front-teeth parted ways and her hidden potbelly fell from a comfortable nest within a Wet Seal T-shirt that read something along the lines of ‘I’m hot, yo not.’  She was a mess, but still managed to outshine Gertrude.  It was probably those baby blue, side-winding eyes that wanted ever so desperately to stare forward more often than not.

Taking the average attention span into consideration, here’s the rest of the night in a sentence: Tyler’s aunt goes to sleep on the couch in the den, we begin drinking games, Shawn takes off his shirt, Dumpy-tits brags about her fellatio skills, Ken pours another shot, I initiate sexual games, Gertrude farts and blames it on Tyler, enter all 6 of us into aunt Rosa’s bed chambers, Ken comes out in aunt Rosa’s bathrobe, Dumpy-tits and Shawn disappear, Ken and Gertrude shack up, and Tyler and I are left to fend for ourselves so we start drinking in the dark bedroom in the midst of Hog Fest 2002.

“You know something Ray, this is rock bottom.  This could possibly be the lowest point of our lives,” Tyler said.  “I mean, we were both rejected by two of New Jersey’s most unattractive bachelorettes.  What does it all mean?”  I didn’t know how to answer him so I gave it some thought.  In my mind, I was hoping that the only way to go from rock bottom was up.  That made me happy, to know that I could turn it all around.  “You know something Tyler, there’s always tomorrow,” I said as I turned to Tyler who was leaning over a sleeping Ken, pleading with Gertrude to jerk him off.