Monday, February 22, 2016

How Getting Coffee Leads to a Threesome

This is not one of my old posts, but one by Pervertically Virtuous
In the process of recovering my own old posts via email I discovered some of hers. Like me, her old accounts have been terminated, and she seems to have disappeared from the internet. This is a damn shame since I consider her one of the best sex bloggers I've ever had the chance to read and follow. I'm reposting her old posts as a historical archive, and if she ever returns to blogging I'm happy to hand them back to her. 
To be clear: the copyright on this work is hers, and remains with her - I didn't write it and I make no claim to it. (FYI: all links in this post are dead)
NB - Part Two of this story can be found HERE (<--- yes, that's a live link)


Pervertically Virtuous posted: "This past summer I was in Chicago for a conference. It was my first time in Chicago, so I arrived a day early so I could walk around and get a sense of the city before the conference craziness began. My host, a friend of a friend, was at work when I arriv"

recovered post on Pervertically Virtuous

How Getting Coffee Leads to a Threesome

by Pervertically Virtuous
coffee-shop-girlThis past summer I was in Chicago for a conference. It was my first time in Chicago, so I arrived a day early so I could walk around and get a sense of the city before the conference craziness began. My host, a friend of a friend, was at work when I arrived early in the morning, so I dropped off my bags, changed, and went for a walk. Her apartment was just outside "the loop," so it was a quick and fairly pleasant walk to and around the central business district. I had no particular agenda, I was just wandering around.
After a while, I decided to try and get to the lake. On the way, I saw a nice looking coffee shop and realized I hadn't had any coffee all day. As I was waiting to order my shot of espresso, a group of three people wearing suits, dress shirts, and name tags walked in. They clearly worked nearby, perhaps even in that building. One of them was a cute black guy. Not much taller than me, but pretty face and definitely not overweight, though his shirt was too loose to discern the level of shape he was in. I smiled at him and he smiled back and stood behind me, chatting and laughing with his friends. After a minute or so, he abruptly interrupted their conversation mid-sentence.
"Oh my God, that is an amazing tattoo!" he exclaimed, clearly talking about my back piece. "I've never seen anything like that before. Wow! Who's the artist? Where did you get that done? Did you come up with that?"
He fired all these questions before I even got a chance to properly turn around and display the rest of my art. It was a warm, sunny day and I was wearing a low-cut top, revealing more than half of my body art. Upon seeing the rest of it, he was even more intrigued and enthralled. We started chatting. I told him I got my tattoos in New York and he told me his best friend lived in New York and worked as a personal trainer.
"Mmm, he must be really hot, then, huh?" I offered flirtatiously.
"He is," he responded. "He's in an amazing shape."
"Is he black?" I couldn't help but ask.
"Yes."
It was the middle of the work day and his friends were there, so neither of us could take it too far. We had all gotten our coffees by then and there was nothing left to do but walk out.
"Can I get to the lake if I walk this way?" was one last thing I wanted to ask.
"Where are you trying to go?" he asked.
"Nowhere in particular, I'm just walking around," I explained. "I've been in Chicago for a total of three hours, I'm just exploring".
But he had something better to offer.
"I'm on my lunch break. Do you want me to show you around? I could get a car from work, I work right here in this building," he pointed to his name badge.
Most sane people would probably say 'no' to a complete stranger offering them a tour in his car around a city they've never been to before. But not me. I saw it as an opportunity for an adventure and happily agreed. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? Rape me? You can't rape the willing. Rob me? I didn't have much on me. Kill me? Very few people would do that. And he had a respectable job at a respectable company, and his friends knew where he was going. It just felt right. And my gut has rarely been wrong about such things.
A few minutes later, he picked me up in front of the coffee shop. (While waiting I had already flirted with and got the number of another cute guy who was locking up his bike near where I was standing. Unfortunately, I did not have enough days in my schedule to pursue that.)
I hopped in the car and hoped for the best. And the best is exactly what I got.
Corey was born and raised near Chicago, spent most of his adult years there, and knew the city intimately. For the next hour and a half, I got an amazing tour of the city. He drove me all over the place, showing me all the various neighborhoods and telling me all the important historical stories. We stopped by the lake and wet our feet in it. He was a photographer and snapped a few photos of me by the water. We even drove through the South Side. It didn't look particularly scary.
During the entire time, he spoke very fondly of his friend in NYC, Darryl. They met when they were in elementary school and have remained close friends since - they were in their early 40's. Even though he lived in NYC for several years now, Darryl still came back to Chicago to visit Corey and party together on a regular basis. There was something very soft and nurturing about Corey in general, and about the way he talked about Darryl in particular. It almost sounded like they could be gay, boyfriends, but he clearly communicated that wasn't the case.
I don't know why, but I had a feeling that they did more than just party together.
"Do you and Darryl ever have threesomes with women?" I suddenly asked as our tour was coming to an end.
He paused for a second, dumbfounded. "How did you know? I've never told anyone about it, certainly not someone I just met. How did you know?" he kept asking, completely blown away by my perceptiveness and bluntness.
"I don't know, I just had a feeling," I said honestly. "The way you talked about him. I just knew. So tell me about it."
"Yeah, we sometimes play with girls. I love watching him fuck women and taking pictures. Sometimes I'll just drive him around while he goes at it in the back. All the sounds would drive me crazy because I couldn't watch and drive at the same time. My imagination would be on fire. We've been doing it for many years. When we were kids we would go into a dark closet with girls and touch them and stuff. A prepubescent threesome of sorts."
Fascinating.
We soon came to the end of our tour. He had to go back to work. We exchanged numbers and talked about possibly hanging out a couple of nights later. I had by then deduced that Corey wasn't in the best of shapes - certainly no 6-pack and no arm definition either, but he was cute and really sweet. It could be fun to hang out. I gave him a kiss on the lips and got out of the car.
I couldn't have imagined a better guide of Chicago. Or a more titillating conversation during the tour.
I continued my walk, and we exchanged a few simple 'thank you, nice meeting you' texts. And then, exactly one hour later, I received the following text:
"Unbelievably, I received a phone call from my friend Darryl from New York to say that he is coming to Chicago tomorrow. How wild is that?"
I wasn't sure if that was truly a coincidence, or if Corey had called Darryl and told him he must get his ass in Chicago ASAP, but it didn't matter. Now that the personal trainer was in town, and there was a possibility of a threesome with two black men, there was no way I wasn't going to explored that. We arranged to meet two days later.
Stay tuned for the action.
Pervertically Virtuous | February 22, 2014 at 11:00 am | URL: http://wp.me/p3F90k-rH

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