Robert Sward

MENAGE A TROIS

"Well, how about a subscription to the Saturday Evening Post and a menage a trois?" said Dolores at dinner one evening during the reign of Richard Nixon.
His fork midway to his open mouth, Noah wondered what was coming next. To his amazement, the hairs in his nostrils had suddenly quivered and snapped to attention.
"Do you have someone in mind, Dee?" he asked, pouring more wine. A dreamy smile on his face, speaking softly so Dee could not hear, he addressed the trouble making stirrings in his chest and groin, the death-defying cardio-vascular system somersaulting at the prospect of simultaneous contact with two women. "Whoa," he commanded, "Whoa."
Twirling her little finger in the goblet, raising it to her lips, Dolores sampled the Chardonnay.
"People say Vancouver is culturally oppressed, but I'm liking it more and more," she said. "The daffodils. The bakeries... It's feminine, a safe haven."
"It's a redneck city without a center, a city without bookstores."
"It's nice even if there are no bookstores. It's pretty," Dolores pouted. "Professor MacLashen says Vancouver is one of the West Coast's magnets."
"What does magnet mean? There are black holes in space that work like magnets. They suck things in and they disappear forever," he said.
"Vancouver is not a black hole." Dolores banged on the table.
"How do you know? And what do you mean pretty?" .
"You know," she said. "Pretty park. Pretty harbor. Pretty West Georgia Street. Pretty whores. Pretty drunks. I like living in the West End. Look at that view: Stanley Park, the ferry boats. Isn't that romantic?"
Noah nodded.
"Actually, I was thinking of my Canadian friend, Louise," she purred, extending her tongue to her wine-wet finger. "Louise says two is company and three's a crowd--unless you're married. Then three is company and two's a crowd."
"So, in your friend's view, menage a trois is wholesome company," Noah teased. "I wonder: What does that say about us?"
"We're an old married twosome, a crowd."
"When did she say that?"
"At dinner last week, remember? Louise and Charles that English surfer. 'Sweet Louise,' you called her. 'Sweet Louise.' Imagine that. Noah, you're blushing."
"She's an enchantress," Noah sighed. He'd played footsies with Louise-she of the jetty skin and mask-like smile-while Dolores and the Englishman argued the pros and cons of legalizing hemp.
"Yeah, umm, well, she's a knockout. I like all your friends, Dolores. How do you like the salad? More honey-cilantro dressing?"
"Oh, Noah, come off it! You were flirting with her."
"Okay, okay. I'm guilty. But really, we were just--sort of--teasing one another, touching antennae. Getting it on with Louise is something else. More pasta? A little hollandaise for your salmon?"
"Just wine. You are interested, aren't you Noah? Well, I'll tell you something. Louise is attracted to you. And you're in luck."
"How do you figure?"
"She's my type too."
"Uh huh. In my limited experience..."
"Your limited experience? I know all about your 'limited experience.' Noah, you'll like it with Louise. You'll like it. That is, if that old firehose of yours is up to it. Is that it? Is that what you're afraid of?"
"What is this, a test? Alright. Alright. But you want to know something? I care enough about you, Dolores, to be glad you're going to be there."
"That's sweet. Tell me more."
"I think a threesome that includes one's spouse is an improvement on sneaking off somewhere and then making up all sorts of stories."
"Noah, I can see your tongue hanging out."
"Let me finish. Seriously, if I happen to step out on someone, the guilt factor, having to lie and cheat, poisons the relationship. Lying and cheating are a pain in the ass."
"That never stopped you in the past."
"Maybe not, but I still felt guilty. I'm not one of those people who gets turned on by intrigue. Anyway, I want our marriage to work."
"So do I. What do you think about that? And an open marriage is an honest marriage," she said. "Sex without guilt. Think about it. You get your desserts and you get to eat them at home too. Are you ready for coffee?"
Pouring, Dolores sang off key, "'That was a very good year...' Noah, baby, do you know that Frank Sinatra song?"
"'That was a very good year...' Sounds to me like a wine commercial, but it must have to do with romance."
"That's right," Dolores said, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Alright, Dee. Say we include Louise. Who do we include next time? I'm not sharing you with another man. Chalk it up to age, but I've come to think screwing around is for screwballs."
"Noah, did it ever occur to you that you might--unconsciously--be making me set up this threesome? Think of it, your wife and her best friend in the same bed: Louise on your left, me on your right. I know you've thought of it, Noah. It's every man's fantasy. You're the one who really wants it, not me."
"Good try, Dee, but I don't think so."
"Men are such hypocrites! When we first met you described yourself as 'an adventurous, self-involved seeker with a streak of the screwball.'"
"That's true, Dee, but you're leaving something out. I also said I was in the process of shedding my screwedup-ness."
"Noah, baby, we're two of a kind. Look," she said, touching his knee, "we've been together about four years, right? It's time to loosen up. You know what your problem is? You take marriage too seriously. Really, you're too much into marriage."
"And you see an orgy as the solution to my being too much into marriage?"
"Just think of our threesome, our sharing Louise, as an experiment."
"Sharing your Canadian friend. God, it sounds as if we're talking about joint ownership of a sailboat or two lions feasting on an antelope. Mmm, say I agreed..."
"Say you agreed? You've already agreed."
"That's wishful thinking. I haven't agreed to anything."
"That's what you say," she answered.
"Dee, if it takes two to tango, what do you call a threesome?" he asked, lighting a joint.
"A conundrum? A triangle? An ebony triptych? I don't know, Mr. Smart Guy, what would you call it?"
"A puzzlement. Anyway, this time the guilt factor is not going to be a problem. Right, Dolores? We're not going to have to hide anything. And if we split, it's not going to be because I did something behind your back."
"Well, you do know there are people who have sex outside the menage a trois. Even that's not enough for them."
"There are springboards into marriage and there are springboards out of marriage. Anyway Dee, you have my word. Do I have yours?"
"We'll see," she said, reaching for the joint.
Satisfied she had him hooked, Dolores upped the ante.
"Later, if it turns out you want more than two sweethearts at a time, let me know. But in fairness, I think we should include one or two men, too."
"Is that what this is all about?" Noah pushed away his plate.
"Calm yourself, honey. Can't you see I'm joking? Anyway, we need to think. A threesome takes planning. And at least one of us has to know something about choreography and set design." Standing, Dolores did a little cha-cha.
"And etiquette. I'll write a letter to Miss Manners," Noah said.
"That's right. Ask about how to host an orgy--trains and daisy chains. I know what Miss Manners will tell you: 'Dear Daisy Chain-No hidden cameras, no one-way mirrors, no tape recorders.'"
"Did you think I was planning on selling tickets?"
WORN OUT POPPA BLUES
5:00 PM -- The shower

Reaching down to soap his manager, Noah considered disappearing, going AWOL for the evening--catching a ballgame, watching a movie. Instead he listened as his adviser, Homerun Harold, purple of face, veiny of neck, reviewed the nature of the evening's affair.
"You have no choice," said Harold. If you don't agree, your wife is going to step out on you. You know that. She'll touch base with every player on the West Coast. I've done all I can for you, Newmark. Two, three times a day sometimes, drunk or sober, but she's restless. It's ironic, isn't it?"
"What do you mean ironic? " Noah asked.
"You doing a three-sie and all in order to stay with her. Well, Dolores wants a little excitement, but who doesn't? You have to hand it to her. In one respect at least it's a good thing, promising," said the one-eyed manager.
"What do you see as promising?" Noah asked, massaging conditioner into his hair.
"I mean Dolores is inviting you to join her in an affair. She's hoping to play around as much as she can and, at the same time, keep you happy and available. You want the marriage to work and I guess she does too. Isn't that promising?"
"Marriage? You call this a marriage? This is a farce. We've been through this before, Harold. This marriage is in deep shit."
"What can I say? Hang in there. Try it for a while. See if you can keep up with her. What was it your father used to say: 'Everytime you're with a woman, send her someplace she's never been before.' She wants something new, give her something new. Play along. Who knows, maybe this time she's going to send us someplace we've never been before. What a kick, eh?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," Noah said.
"Score one for the Borscht Belt. But really, you can count on me. One woman, two women, no problem. I'm not some clever comic, but if I'm up to bat and have a woman on base, I'm gonna bring her and her friends on home and I'm gonna do it the way they like best," said his dick.
"Oh, shut up. Save it for the reporters. Can't you let go of your need to impress people?"
Chastened, Harold nodded and turned away.
"Okay, Noah said, "suppose, just suppose it plays out the way we want it to. Dee and I are still going to have to do something to pull the marriage together again. Either we re-connect or the marriage dissolves."
"...Louise has to have an agenda of her own," Noah said, rinsing the manager. "Did you ever think of that? Scattershot--shooting without aiming--isn't going to work this time. And you, when was the last time you even had an agenda? 'Send it into deep center field, score now to left field, come on, bring it on home,' that's all you think."
"And look at you, Newmark, with all your smarts, you're still talking to your pecker. Do you know what that makes you? You're one of those guys who thinks with his schmuck and fucks with his mind. Yeah, it's true, isn't it? You're the prick, not me."

"Is someone in there with you, Noah? Who are you talking to?"
"Dee, where'd you come from? And you're smoking again, aren't you? Damn, I've got soap in my eyes," Noah said, pulling open the shower curtain. "C'mon, honey take your robe off and get in here!"
"It's so steamy I can't even see ," she wailed, feeling with her foot, stepping inside with him. "Noah, dear, would you soap my back? Oh, rub me now with the washcloth. Use the loofa. Harder. Hmm. What's that?" she said, feeling something poke at her back.
"You know what that is. That's my manager."
"Oh, I see. How are tricks, Harold? What are you up to lately?" she said, kneeling as if to pet an animal. "Down, boy. Stop that! C'mon, Noah, save it for later."
"He just wants to play, Dee."
"Get serious. I need to ask you something," she said, throwing the marijuana joint into the sink. "What if Louise wants to stay a second night--or longer? We may never get rid of her. What then? You do understand, don't you, you're going to have to share your bathroom with Louise?"
"My bathroom? Why?" Noah asked, turning to give her the full spray.
"You know me," Dee said, "my bathroom's my sanctuary."
"You are a little strange, Dolores. I mean, I'm insulted. You're willing to share me with Louise, but not your bathroom."
"Share a bathroom with your lover and it takes away the mystery. That bathroom is my chapel, my temple of beauty. That's why we have two bathrooms.
"Besides, Noah, men are messy. They don't clean up after themselves. They leave the toilet seat up. They don't hang up the towels right."
"But Louise isn't like that," Noah said. "She's a woman."
"Some women are obsessive about cooking and won't allow anyone else into their kitchen. Well, I'm like that about my bathroom. I won't share it with anyone."
"I don't get it. If we're going to sleep together in one bed, why can't we shower together in one shower? Louise is trim, boyish even, with little boobies. She'd fit in here just fine. I've never showered with two women," Noah said.
"Anyway, why don't you and Louise go rent a motel room? You don't need me," Dee said, punching him in the chest. "She's exotic and thin. Isn't that what you like?"
"Whaat? Dolores, you're crazy," Noah laughed, grabbing her wrist before she could punch him again. "Tonight's little party was your idea. Look, it's okay. If you're having second thoughts I'll call her up and cancel." Noah stepped out of the shower and reached for his towel.
"No, it's too late. Louise will be here any minute. Oh, God, I don't know why I agreed to this. Hug me, hug me," she said turning off the shower.
Lips in her hair, his eyes burning, Noah embraced her.

"You're the one who set this up, weren't you, Noah?" she said as he trimmed his beard. "You're the one who wanted it." Dee let fly with another punch. "I care for you, Noah. Remember that. I care for you. I just want to let loose with other people now and then."
"I don't want to lose you," he whispered.
"I don't want to lose you either. But look, I'm gaining weight. See... Oh, God, what am I going to wear?" Dee cried, heading for her closet.

6:00 PM -- The Party

"That's the doorbell," Dee said, as Noah pulled on a pair of Levis. "Noah, you let her in. No, I'll go.
"...Oh, Louise, Louise, how thoughtful! What beautiful flowers. And I like you with your hair like that, down over your shoulders..." The two women embraced and kissed.
Feeling an intruder, Noah held back.
"Noah," his wife called, "Look who's here, honey."
"Surprise, surprise," said Noah under his breath.
"Hi, Louise." Pacing himself, anxious not to appear over-eager, Noah hugged Louise. About to withdraw, he stood transfixed as she stepped back, raised her skirt and offered him a glimpse of forbidden treasure, a shock of poussay topped by a fluorescent pink, heart-shaped beaver.
"Yes, yes, Louise. I'll be right back."

Suppressing an urge to pop in a tape, hide the microphone and record the proceedings, Noah went to the fridge to retrieve the Chardonnay he'd bought for the occasion. He gathered up the goblets, poured for the women and, like an anxious stage director, checked in the bedroom to make sure the massage oil and flower-scented candles were all in place.
Would he be up to satisfying Louise--and Dolores? With which of the two women would he hit a home run? Or should he perhaps make an effort not to hit the long ball, not risk striking out in a vain attempt to look good. It wouldn't be easy, but he knew he had to try to be more of a team player, one who sacrificed his needs to advance the needs of others, one who found satisfaction in doing all he could to make his teammates shine, who found pleasure in their pleasure, delight in their delight, success in their success.
It wasn't always the homerun hitters who jacked up RBI's.
He'd get his kicks after they got theirs. He'd spend the evening building up steam, then clear the bases with one or the other in the early hours of the morning. A recovery period would follow and, God willing, he'd clear the bases again. But what if, for some reason, he lost control? Or popped out the first time he came up to bat?
For all his boasting, there were times when Harold was lucky to make it to first base. And of course there was a danger in overcompensating, in relying too much on technique. The women Noah knew tended to protest when they sensed he was relying more on nimble-fingered craft than heart. "Who taught you to touch a woman like that? Did you read about it somewhere?" they'd ask suspiciously.

Planning to control himself in one respect, Noah was unable to control himself in another. Realized fantasy or not, he stopped at his desk and scribbled"Hosting a threesome, a critique of triangles: (1) A man loses interest in his lover and she introduces a second woman into the relationship in order to make him happy. Sorry,wrong scenario. (2) Seeing her husband is on the verge of getting together with her best friend, the wife preempts the affair by offering him simultaneous sex with the other woman and herself. By taking the initiative in this way, she manages to control the action. (3) Two passionate women, attracted to one another, but not wanting to think of themselves as gay, decide to include a man. Perhaps. (4 ) As an opening wedge, a friend insinuates herself into a couple's bed and steals whichever one of the two she most desires: (a) the man, (b) the woman. Maybe she wants (c) both the man and the woman. (5) Three voyeurs agree to have a threesome in order to get their kicks (as spectators). Among other things, threesome sex is an experiment in voyeurism. One gets to be a voyeur of the other two, but also of oneself. (6 ) BEST is when no one is a voyeur. BEST is when all three are actively participating.

"Honey, would you bring out the rest of the hors d'oeuvres?"
"Oh, and more wine too," Louise called from the living room. "Where's that Chardonnay from?"
"Do you like it? It's from California--Sonoma County," Noah called back, grabbing the cork screw and a calf skin belt which he slid into his pocket.

Rejoining the women, refilling their glasses, Noah turned to the tape deck. He put on Bessie Smith's Any Woman's Blues with Bessie singing I'm Wild About That Thing; My Love Comes Down; and Worn Out Poppa Blues.
"Hey, Noah, c'mon," Louise said after Worn Out Poppa, "let's hear some rock and roll. Enough of the heavy stuff."
"I've got just the man for you," he said putting on Elvis Presley's Love Me Tender.
Next, Noah turned his attention to the fireplace. Threw on more dry cedar chips and logs. As the fire blazed, he helped Louise remove her quilted leather jacket. Catching Noah's eye, she unzipped and kicked off her highheeled boots. Noah then, watchful, calmed himself by sipping wine and massaging Dolores' instep and ankles.
"Louise, I got some really good hash from my hairdresser," said Dee. "Would you like to try some?"
"Sure, why not?" she said, removing her glasses. "It's gonna be a long night. Oh, what a beautiful pipe!"
"It's new," Noah said. "Smoking's healthier this way. With a bong--or hookah--you can smoke more without messing up your throat. Bongs remove the toxins and the water cools the smoke... I did an article on bongs. They're also called 'hubble-bubbles.'"
"Oh, there he goes again, Mr. Encyclopedia," Dee said.
Louise and Noah watched as Dee added water and ice to the glass chamber.
"Glass gives you the cleanest hit," Noah said.
Inserting aluminum foil in the seat of the bowl, Dolores poked at it a few times with a sewing needle so the pipe would draw. Next, crumbling a chunk of brownie-black hash with her thumb and middle finger, she deposited the resin on the foil. Handing the pipe to Louise, she watched as her friend brought the mouthpiece to her lips.
"Ready?"
Holding the pipe, leaning forward for the match, Louise nodded.
"Whew, that smells like camel shit," she giggled, passing the pipe back to Dee. Then, as Dee held the pipe, Louise put a second and a third match to the resin.
"What's better, one water chamber or two?" Lou asked, her dark eyes shining.
"A single chamber, like this," said Noah. "It's easier to clean."
"Noah's into 'bong hygiene,'" Dee snickered.
"Is a bigger bong better?" Lou asked, letting out her breath.
"It's a matter of personal preference," Noah laughed. "What do you think, Dee?"
Leaning forward, Dee kissed Louise flush on the lips.
"All I know is with a good water pipe, there's no waste," Dee said, toasting Noah and Lou.
Noah's turn. Two or three puffs and he saw his father in 3-D: "So, Mr. Pothead, you got yourself invited to a picnic. May you enjoy in good health. Of course, a man's shortcomings he can hide from one woman, but two? Excuse me for laughing, son, but these friends of yours are in a league of their own."
"Louise, I have a question for you," Noah said, reaching for the Brie spreading dreamily across the cheeseboard.
"I'll give you the answer first."
"What's your answer?" Noah asked.
"No," laughed Louise.
"Actually, it's a question about three-sies. I don't want you or Dee to be hurt in this," Noah said.
"Right."
"Louise, threesomes are unstable, aren't they? I can't help thinking: When two kids are friends and a third kid comes along, sometimes all three play together. But eventually two gang up on one and that one is left out. One of us could end up feeling hurt."
"We haven't even started, Mr. White Bread, and you're telling me one of us is going to be sent home early?" Louise sneered and held out her wine goblet for a refill.
"Noah's one of those sensitive, considerate men who like to control everything. Honey, please, just for tonight, forget you're a teacher," Dee said, touching his lips. Louise and I know you don't want anyone to be hurt. But you're the man, you're in charge. Things can go any way you want them to."
"Am I really in charge, Dee? You and Divine Mother Kali-and me? I don't think so."
"He has a point. We do out-number him," Louise laughed.
"You're the center of attention, Noah," Dee said, snuggling with Louise. "See?" she said as the two women looked him over. "We're just checking you out, and you pass. C'mon, honey, lighten up."
"Yeah," said Louise, taking another toke of hash, "and even if one of us is odd man out that person still gets to watch what the other two are doing, okay? We don't send anyone home early--no matter what. In my opinion, voyeurism is a lost art."
Noah and Dolores turned their attention to Louise.
"Are you warm enough, Lou? Here, let me help you off with your top," Dolores offered. Now you can join the party. Here, take my seat," she said, surrendering her place on the sofa. "Let me paint your toenails and Noah--he studied massage, you know--can do your neck and shoulders."
"Oh, God, I love it. Mmm, that's great."
"So tell us, whatever happened to Charles whatshisname?" Dolores asked.
"Charlie the surfer? I sent him packing," Louise said, her voice hardening. "Sex with him was too antiseptic. But he was a terrific cook," she said, her eyes brightening. "That porpoise dude, he made some really exotic fish dishes--poached salmon with oysters, mmm!"
"Hey, you guys," said their guest thoughtfully, "what's up with you two?"
"Louise, really, we're getting along fine. Noah here is just gonna loosen up a little, aren't you honey? You know, we've been married for four years. There's a lot out there we wanna try," said Dolores.
"You want to add a little spice to your relationship, is that it?" said Louise. "Someone to stir the pot? Hmm. Tell me, Noah, how do you feel about that?"
Noah grimaced. "How do I feel about that? How do I feel about that? I'm here, aren't I? You sound like some kind of shrink. But yeah, we belong together, Louise. I love my wife."
"Love is for sissies." Louise chuckled. "By the way, once you've done a threesome, there's no going back," she said, running her hands through her hair. "The marriage changes. It's one of those things."
"We want to enlarge our circle of friends--become more intimate with one or two special people," Dee added.
"Noah, are you prepared to compromise?" Louise asked, slipping easily into the role of marriage counselor. An expression of honest concern on her face, at once fatalistic and lustful, accepting and lascivious, understandin g and non-judgmental, she provided Noah and Dolores one last opportunity to withdraw.
It was a classy maneuver, one that increased Noah's respect for his wife's friend.
"Noah, I understand you support three-sies, but you're not so sure about open marriage," she went on.
"I am sure about it. I'm against open marriage," said Noah, belt in hand.
"Oh, I see. You don't think a threesome is open marriage?" Louise said.
"Noah doesn't think a threesome with you is the same as open marriage." Dolores reached for Louise's hand. "Did you know Noah has the hots for you? Really, Lou, whatever happens is our problem. We won't think about that now, okay?
"Noah, darling, we're yours. What's your pleasure...?" Dee asked.
His head spinning, unable to make sense of what Dee was doing with her mouth, Noah kissed Louise's forehead. He did this in such a way that--to his surprise--his chin rested lightly on the tip of his wife's nose. Dee, meanwhile, nibbled and bit Louise's neck and ears.
Sitting up, his mouth open, Noah listened to the snap, crackle and pop of the women's kisses.
"You're beautiful, both of you. I don't know why you want to bother making love to a man," Noah said. "I mean, women are so much better at it. At least I think I'm learning something."
"Learning what?" Louise snorted.

"Before you go any further with that thing," Lou said as he approached, "before you touch me or your wife, I want you to repeat after me, 'Poussy makes the world go round.'"
"Why?" Noah asked.
"Because it isn't often women get to hear men speak the truth."
Sniffing her perfume--Irish heather, Irish moss--Noah felt a circuit close down in his brain.
Noah hesitated as she kneeled before him.
"You'll have to speak up!"
"Poussy makes the world go round," Noah said.
"I accept you as my student," she said, leaning forward to receive him.
"Lou, you're outrageous," Dee said, undoing her bra as she advanced. "Who would have thought? In that gallery of yours, with your glasses and your hair pulled back, you're pure business... I mean..."
"Now, how would you like to demonstrate your fondness for Irish heather? Think, Noah," said Louise.

Headlights. Voices. Car doors opening and closing. KNOCK, KNOCK.
"Who's there?" said Noah.
'God, that hashish has really gotten to me. What if this were all about to be recorded?'
"Mr. Newmark, I'm Mike Wright of 39 Minutes. Can I ask you a few questions?" said the newsman, pushing his way into the room.
"Questions? What questions?" Noah asked.
"Your friend Louise Pettigrew informed us... She invited..."
The crew from 39 Minutes rushed past Noah with lights and camera equipment.
"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mike Wright,"we're in Vancouver, Canada, with an expatriate journalist; Dolores, his swinger wife; and their friend, Louise Pettigrew, the owner of Pettigrew Contemporary Art."
"Tell us, Noah, what does this twisted behavior make you feel like?" asked 39 Minutes.
"What ...feels like? Feels great, Mike. Once you got into it, it's the most... natural thing in the world," he said, turning back to Dee.
"Yeah, Mike... you don't know... what... you're missing," Dolores added.

Voices. Headlights. Truck doors opening and closing. KNOCK, KNOCK.
"What now?"
"Good evening... And I'm Dr. Plummer... producer... Canadian Wildlife." A khaki-clad woman with a clipboard eyed the crew from 39 Minutes. "We're doing... documentary series on... unusual mating rituals in British Columbia," Noah heard her say.
"We were here first," said the man from 39 Minutes.
"Ours is an educational show... We have precedence... This is Canada."
Louise burrowed under the sheet.
Plummer elbowed her way forward. "Now, this will work best," she said, "if the primary pair and the extra woman just carry on... Let's not disturb anything."

"Good evening, nature lovers. Welcome to British Columbia, and Canadian Wildlife. I'm Victoria Plummer, your hostess for 'The Nature of Courtship,' ... eight hours of animals courting, giving birth, caring for their young. Cuddle fish, love birds, bats, monkeys, seals and humans. 'The Nature of Courtship' is made possible by your local gas company.
"Now, to begin. You're about to see something you never thought you'd see on television-an exception even among exceptions.
"Unlike nature shows of the past, with their scenes of hunting-eating-and-reproduction, tonight's segment includes human animals. As you'll see, here too there are some exceptions to the rule. Is the male we're about to see threatened by the two females? Indeed, who runs this menage a trois?
"Certainly humans preen, parade and compete for suitable mates as many other species do..."
Adjusting her headphones, Victoria pauses.
"I'm being told we're ready to proceed. So, without further ado, join Canadian Wildlife in observing tonight's human subjects in their habitat: White oak floors covered with Persian rugs... throw cushions ...paintings and posters... and Canadiana... a dressing table... a rocking chair... stockings, lipstick, earrings. One can tell by the furnishings that these are Homo Sapiens Canadian artiste.
"Dolores, who we're about to meet, is an interior designer by profession... and plant fancier... African violets, flowering cyclamen, narcissi and geraniums fill the room...
"One can't help being aware of a tender energy, a certain innocence, if you will...
"That's Louise, art dealer, stimulating Dolores' nymphae," Victoria added. "...our viewers.... an open mind... and, as you know, multiple partner relationships..."

"Alright, Dr. Plummer, please step aside." Grabbing the Canadian's microphone, Mike Wright pushed her to the door.
"Good evening from 39 Minutes," he said as he and his crew advanced on the threesome. "This is Mike Wright reporting live from the bedside... of Mr. and Ms. Newmark...
"There he is now on his knees... Noah's like a caboose... the trainman's car... in this affair.
"Well, Victoria, as you implied earlier, lovemaking can be as mysterious and dangerous as... "
"Actually, Mike, of course... it's a mingling of intimate knowledge and surprise. Your hunters and explorers venture out ..."

Firelight, candlelight, light show, daisy chain. Nibble... lick... bite... squeeze... pant... suck... moan...

One, two, three. A, B, C.
Do it to her, do it to me.
Ease back slowly now.
Ah, bravissimo! Magnifico!

"Noah, how would you justify this kind of behavior?" Mike Wright broke in. "And... isn't that... a hash pipe I see over there? "
"Well, um...it's like... like a wedding night... with two brides," Noah answered, Dee's teddy bears-all five of his wives collected teddy bears-bouncing up and down on the creaky bed, sweat running into his eyes, the teddy bears blurring... "It's the scent of sandalwood and honeyed cinnamon... two mouths, three mouths, one mouth... Uh, uh, O Louise, mmm, mmm." Noah writhed between them. "That's it Dee, yess, yess..." he cried, falling onto the floor with the women.
"How do you handle boundary negotiations?" Mike Wright came in close with his microphone.
"See Noah, wasn't I right?" said Dee.
"I've never been so busy in my life," Noah answered.
"Boundary negotiations? Hmm. I don't know, Mike," Noah whispered. "It's complicated.... sometimes... it can be a little lonely... okay, Louise, just... just a minute... No, no thanks, Dolores, that's okay... It's hard to be there 100% for one woman, or she for you... it's even harder..."
"Could you tell us... briefly... Dolores... what's it like for you?" said Wright.
"Uh, uh... it's like a trio of billiard balls clicking--each setting off the other," Dolores said.
"Do you agree or disagree with that description, Noah?" said Mike Wright.
"Well, the women... uh, uh, are doubled...in a sense, uh, uh, and the man is...uh, doubled too, or at least...O, God, honey, don't move! ...he feels doubled, too. I feel...I could...make love...to one...hundred women...at..."
"You feel invincible?"
"Hey, we're just...having...fun..."

3:30 AM -- Winding Down

"Well, Noah, are you pleased with yourself?" said Dee.
"Whew," said Noah, head back, legs rubbery, gasping for breath.
"There, there, you'll be okay," Dee teased. "But tell me something. Honestly. Were you really there or were you writing a scenario? Men fantasize... so do women... And you've said the ultimate fantasy for men--some men-- is to have sex with two women, simultaneously. Okay, here you are in bed with two beautiful women. What did you fantasize this time? Did you think of other... partners... did it add to the excitement? The truth, Noah!"
"Uh, uh... I fantasized... doing... what we did... but doing it... on national television. In Canada. And the U.S.," Noah confessed.
"Noah is perverse," said Dee, turning to Louise. "If this man were being interviewed on television, he'd answer the questions, but at the same time he'd fantasize about threesomes."
"All that's wrong with Noah is an overactive imagination," said Louise, coming to his defense.

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