It was the spring of 1979, the time of year when high school seniors were anxiously awaiting those thick envelopes containing college acceptances and dreading those thin ones containing rejections. Once the classes were set, the schools would then open the doors for transfer students to apply and make last minute decisions to fill the remaining spots in upper classes. And this is how I may have had a threesome.

I was a sophomore at a popular university back East. A female friend of mine, Julie, who was a year younger, had contacted me about wanting to come to visit the campus as she was contemplating transferring from the state university. Of course, as we had known each other for several years, and had traveled along the east coast with several other friends one spring break, I felt completely comfortable inviting her to stay in my dorm room. And naturally, she felt perfectly comfortable saying yes. We had never had any sort of romantic involvement previously, and it seemed quite natural and platonic to think it would stay that way.

One week before she was to visit, Julie called, saying she needed a favor. Her friend Cathy also wanted to see the campus, not because she was going to apply but she needed a weekend away from school having just broken up with her boyfriend of three years. As I had no designs on Julie and didn’t expect any sort of passionate weekend would be hindered by Cathy’s company, I readily agreed. The fact that I only had a twin bed didn’t quite figure into my consciousness until the big weekend arrived.

Julie and Cathy met me at the doorway of my dorm, and we trudged up the three flights of stairs in the 160-year-old building to my small room. I was one of the fortunate ones, who had been able to commandeer a single room even as a sophomore; not one of the “psycho singles” assigned to kids who would likely murder their roommates in the middle of the night in a fit of jealous rage, but a nice upper floor single with good airflow (critical during those un-air-conditioned nights), a shared bathroom, and fairly sturdy wooden furniture. The red brick building itself derived from well before the Civil War, and rumors abounded of what famous inhabitants had slept, studied, or (heaven forbid) had sex within these walls. Maybe a future poet, architect, or even US President! No, in all likelihood, all the previous denizens of my room were like me…just a guy trying to get ahead and masturbating from boredom and solitude.

Yes, I admit it. I was a frequent masturbator, wanker, and jerk-off artist. Those were pre-Internet days. You couldn’t simply go online and read erotic stories on a website, or watch free porn videos, or even sneak into cam sites to watch girls masturbate for dollars. No, in those days, you had your hand(s), maybe Gallery magazine that you bought at the newsstand when you thought no one was looking, or a memory of the feel of a girl’s breast from the semester before when you had a date with a girl who turned out to be more interested in talking to her mother on the phone while you fondled her breasts rather than touch your penis after the movie.

I digress.

Julie and Cathy climbed up the stairs with me that Friday afternoon, each carrying a backpack while I hauled up their suitcases. I never understood why girls needed to bring five pairs of shoes and five sweaters for a brief weekend trip. Still don’t. We reached my room and I flung open the door to show them the university’s finest accommodations. 

Walking through the doorway, a wooden platform bed off to the left, twin in width but a bit excessively long to accommodate the basketball players; functional desk and desk chair to the right, and in a back alcove just under the picture window, an ugly vinyl arm chair which my parents had convinced me to finally get out of their house when I started school. We flung the backpacks on that chair and piled the suitcases in front of it, and at that moment we all three realized, “wait, who’s sleeping where?”

Now, dear reader of fine erotica, you must be wondering by this point in the story when am I going to describe how “hot” these two young ladies were. So here are the details. Julie, my friend, was a few inches shorter than I, maybe 5’7”, with short, straight light brown hair that framed her face quite cutely. A slightly upturned nose and rather full lips. Today, we might compare them with Angelina’s lips, but who knew who Angelina was back then! 

Beneath her long neck, her substantial bust came into view. Julie was stacked, no doubt about it. But, hey, I was only nineteen, and what did I know about bra sizes. So I can guess something like 38DDD, but don’t quote me on it. Not skinny, she was well proportioned down below with a soft looking pair of buttocks that almost winked from in front of me as we walked up the stairs earlier. Cathy, on the other hand, was smaller all around, maybe 5’1”, dark brown hair with a round face, quite cute in fact. Much smaller breasts, waist, ass, etc. And shorter legs, of course. A real doll.

And here I am, an overfed long haired leaping gnome (okay, I stole that… starting over) skinny long-haired, shaggy-bearded young man used to masturbating himself to sleep every night, with these two adorable young ladies in my room, and all we had was the one twin bed! Thinking fast, and realizing that this wasn’t the start of a Penthouse Forum-type weekend, I told them that I knew where a spare mattress was stored down the hall, and we could at least divide up with the girls on the bed and me (so gallantly) on the floor. Smiles returned to all our faces at this brilliantly improvised solution, and after I brought the mattress in with spare pillows and got the sheets all arranged, we were off to dinner.

Dear reader, the times were different, and laws were different. Drinking age was still eighteen, and so we were quite legally able to get a bit tipsy from wine and beer that night over dinner. And we stopped at a neighboring dorm party for a bit more as well. Julie was hanging all over me, and I was doing my level best to keep her from falling over. It did dawn on me that she had little tolerance for alcohol, whereas Cathy certainly seemed capable of holding her liquor. 

By close to midnight, we realized that we needed to get Julie back to the dorm or she might collapse right then and there from the combination of a long day and too much Hearty Burgundy. Off we went, Cathy on one side of her and me on the other, propping up Julie as we walked through the dark streets back to my dorm. Julie seemed to have a preference for leaning on me, often almost turning sideways each time so that it made her breast bump up against my arm with each step. I, of course, attributed this to the booze, but gladly enjoyed the feel of the firm tit each time it touched my skin.

Once we got to the dorm, I put my arm more tightly around her waist to help her up the stairs. 

This was apparently harder for her than we thought, and we had to almost hoist her up each step.

Once we got to the top, we more easily guided Julie into the room, and Cathy assured me that she could handle getting Julie ready for bed. I took my gym shorts and went into the bathroom to change, and after knocking on the door to assure that everyone was decent, returned to the room to assess the final sleeping arrangements. There, Cathy was tucked snug into the bed all alone, and Julie seemed to have not been able to make it quite that far, lying on one end of the floor mattress. Cathy laughed, telling me that I was just going to have to make do with the “snoring log” on the floor next to me as she turned out the nightstand light.

Once descended into the darkness, sleep befell me quickly. And soundly. Or so I thought. For it must have been only an hour or so after we fell asleep that I awoke to the sensation of Julie cuddling right up against me. Too surprised to say anything, and frankly with no room to move off the mattress as I was already up against the desk, I stiffened up as she seemed to snuggle closer. To make matters worse, having not had my nightly masturbatory session before sleeping, I quickly became erect with the feel of her soft ass right up against my crotch. I secretly hoped she wouldn’t wake up like this, so she would never know my reactions while she was so drunk.

And then I was busted. She suddenly turned over, threw her right arm over me, and proceeded to give me a very undrunken, wet, luscious kiss. Whispering into my ear, she told me that she hadn’t been drunk at all! It was just an elaborate set up so she could have an excuse for me to hold her earlier in the evening. And then she had realized continuing the game would provide a reason for her to sleep on the floor next to me! 

I was speechless, which made it much easier for me to return the kiss, and our tongues danced a while in each other’s mouths. After making sure that the covers were well over us, Julie slid her hands under my t-shirt to lift it off, her hands roaming all over my warm excited skin. Not to be outdone, I followed her lead and my hands were soon enjoying their glory days holding those magnificent orbs on her chest. I was amazed at how soft yet firm they felt, and could not resist the temptation to take each succulent nipple into my mouth, sucking and nipping lightly at each. 

She quietly moaned as my lips would twist the sensitive buttons, which spurred me on to making each attack with my lips a little harder, a little more aggressive each time. Encouraged by her moans and squirming, I continued down her torso, kissing and licking her belly heading to Graceland. She led the way, sliding her pajama bottoms down and allowing me free access. As my lips reached the top of her pubis, I encountered silky soft curls that smelled heavenly, an aroma of musk from her vagina combined with a light touch perhaps of perfume (?). I kissed my way down the trail, reaching the top of her pussy. Now by this point, I had learned far more about a woman’s body and her responses than in my previously reported first time with Cindy. 

Wanting to avoid direct contact with her clitoris initially, I detoured around and my tongue started instead at the bottom of her slit (at least in the dark what I thought was the bottom). A quick swipe upwards, and I was inundated with a taste sensation like no other. God, I love the aroma and taste of a woman’s excited pussy! My mouth watered as I began to journey back up, my tongue diving deeper into the crevice between her lips. Deeper into the moist warm hole. Fully thrusting my tongue inside, only to slide it across the front wall on my way out. 

My lips moved upward towards her clit, now swollen and escaping from between the top of her pussy lips. Taking the engorged clit into my mouth, I lightly sucked on it like a little cock, drawing it in and out of my mouth slowly. Julie was a bucking bronco by this point, and I held on to her generous ass so she didn’t throw me off! Combining licking and sucking tongue fucking and kissing, I helped her climb higher and higher until her thighs clamped around my ears nearly cutting off my circulation. And then she came. Waves and waves of contractions. She slumped back, simply exhausted and sated, and I leaned back on my knees and sat on my heels, admiring the results of my oral ministrations to her.

And then I really heard her snore. This time, no joke. No alcoholic stupor. Just post-orgasmic bliss leading to collapse and slumber.

Up on the bed, not a sound from Cathy. If she was awake or aware, I did not know.

So, an interesting situation I found myself in all of a sudden. Surely I had earned a suitable orgasm for my successful attentions to my partner. But clearly, she was in no condition to reciprocate. So, I did what I knew how to do. And about ten strokes later, shot ropes of cum all over my chest and sheets, and we both slept soundly that night.

The next day, we all awoke and went about our day as if nothing had transpired at all. We toured campus. I showed them the lecture halls, dining halls, libraries, ice cream stores, and all the other highlights of our college town. We splurged on a big meal out that night for dinner at a local Chinese restaurant. And we laughed about our drinking of the night before while we had a few extra fruity alcoholic drinks too many at the restaurant. So that we again found ourselves stumbling up the stairs to my dorm room. And again, Cathy hit the bed and Julie and I the floor. 

And once again, Julie was out cold in seconds. I fell asleep soon thereafter. And then, like clockwork, I awoke for the second night in a row feeling her snuggling up against me. Though her ass felt a bit smaller and firmer as it rubbed rather purposefully against my growing erection. And the perfume seemed a bit different as she turned to kiss me. For now it was Cathy’s turn with her smaller body and less prominent lips and adorable cute face to arouse me, as she whispered into my ear, “Can I do to you what you did to Julie last night?” And who was I to say no?

So dear reader of fine erotica, I leave you with the inevitable advanced mathematical question: Do two twosomes equal a single threesome?