Look Ma No Hands

juggling

Shmoebe’s birthday was always a big thing, it was the one day a year that Shmoebe kissed ladies, a tradition that started in the dorms with Courtney and me. Shmoebe’s boyfriend had no issue with it becuase we were just those friends that kissed on the mouth a lot, and he got that. Plus it was Shmoebe’s birthday and when it’s a bitch’s birthday, a bitch gets what she wants.

Shmashley 2 and Shmoebe lived together, and this year we decided to throw a mustache party for Shmoebe, because themed parties are the only ones worth throwing, and themed parties that require as little effort as putting on an adhesive mustache are the very best. Plus we wanted to kiss on the mouths while wearing mustaches, because obvi.

There was this girl at the party, let’s call her… Shmooke. Shmooke was straight, but we had made out on a few occasions — one time she had picked me up and put me on a counter, it was kind of the hottest thing ever considering she was a small blonde, with big blue eyes who had that whole girl-next-door aesthetic going plus a side of huge tits. She was actually kind of dating the hottest of our guy friends, but he refused to actually commit to her so I think that’s why she liked to be a drunk lesbian at parties, you know, let loose, that whole bit.

*Theme Music and Opening Credits Play*

We were all in the living room playing drinking games, when Shmashley and Shmooke stumbled into Shmashley’s bedroom, giggling back at me to follow them in. I hesitated for a moment, on the precipice of a threesome — contemplating whether or not I was prepared for the situation I was being beckoned into. Mid-contemplation, Shmoebe did me a solid and pushed me into the bedroom after them and clicked the door shut…essentially making my decision for me.

There I was, a couple notches in my lesbian belt, confronted with my very first threesome. This was going to be a defining moment for me, I just knew it. Things started off awkwardly at first — which, if we’re being honest, is just how threesomes are. Someone always gets a little less attention, you don’t know whose hands are on you at any given time, and sometimes someone just ends up watching, which is awk. It was hot, like temperature hot, sweaty, and sloppy. 6 hands reaching, you can only really kiss one other person at a time, I mean you can try one of those three-way kisses but again those are only hot in porn, in real life it’s a lot of saliva happening. Luckily, after the first awkward giggles and logistical maneuvers, the bras were out of the way and we were off to the races. I suddenly found myself in the middle of a not-so-gay large-breasted-woman-sandwich. I felt like I was juggling. I mean seriously, what is two sets of DD breasts equal? A test of some serious hand-eye coordination that’s what.

I don’t know if it’s something you learn as you become a more advanced threesomer but as an amateur it’s not so easy to commit your time evenly between two women. I naturally had an inclination toward Shmashley because we were kind of a thing, but then I’m a people pleaser and was afraid to make Shmooke feel rejected. Also when one top and two bottoms get into bed together it results in a nearly hour long plank, and some forearm cramping. I added two more notches to my lesbian toolbelt that night and I crossed something off my sexual bucket list (which is much longer than one might think) but the jokesters I was in bed with just got participation ribbons because neither of their hands went south of the border, comprende? Calling those two pillow princesses would be an understatement. These two were pillow presidents, mattress matriarchs, bed bureaucrats…I don’t know, we’ll workshop it.

So, here I am, forearms burning, doing my best circus performer impression and juggling all the boobs I possibly could when someone comes blundering into the room. Suddenly, what little sex appeal this threesome had flew out the window as the sounds from the party in the other room drifted into the bedroom — I could hear drunk conversations, my sister’s loud laugh (mood killer), and “No hands” by Waka Flocka Flame playing: “She said look ma no hands, she said look ma no hands…” And I couldn’t help but think, “No, Waka, weren’t you listening? 6 hands. Too many hands. So many hands. My hands are cramping. Send help.”

Waka had heard my plea because the person who had busted into the room was none other than the birthday girl herself, Shmoebe. Shmoebe had apparently come in to admire her handiwork and was very pleased with the results. So pleased that she made her way over to the bed and joined in on the action.

Just kidding, but she did give me a kiss on the mouth and returned to the festivities. After that encounter, I did my best to make sure that the experience ended on a positive note for both girls and by “positive note” I mean I rocked their fucking worlds. Just kidding, I high-fived each of them, uttered a solitary “good game”, and left to find a glass of moscato that I had been craving since “No hands” had graced my eardrums earlier. I think that was a pretty A+ threesome if you ask me. Someone remind me to never do that again (Spoiler Alert: I do it again).

*Next time on Nobody Scissors: I think my luck has finally turned*

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