There’s a Crack in Everything: My First Three-Way

CHAPTER 5

The singular thought of holding onto anything that would keep me afloat was interrupted by a young attractive white female attendant who asked me to follow her. She wasn’t wearing a mask, and I appreciated how much more personable this made her. My sobbing slowed to a slow sniffling. She looked kind. She even glowed. It was obvious I could trust her. She was the angel I needed, leading me into the next room and shutting the door behind us. My God, was this to be the strangest clinical depressive-with-a-nurse fantasy ever?! We were alone.

Except for the muscular man in his late twenties who had been waiting for us.

He told me to strip. No, “Hi, my name is…” or “I know this is going to be awkward, but…”

Nothing, just “You need to take your clothes off.”

I waited because I thought my angel, mistaken for wholesome and slutty, would leave the room or at least turn away. She leaned against the wall and just waited. Turns out, what I had read as kind was just distant and removed. Smug. Fuck her glow.

I wanted to say, “Smoke ’em if you got ’em.” I wanted to say, “Great! Let’s all drop trou.” I wanted some liquid courage. I wanted some music to underscore what was about to happen. Maybe something from The Full Monty. Or…