Chapter 16: Threesome with Rebecca and Lauren

When I remember the night I had a threesome with Rebecca and Lauren, I keep remembering that there was an accordion. 

The Friday after being accosted by the cops, most of the link was in Obukhiv, trying to find a bar with an open table.  There were none.  The missing members of the link were Suzie, who had stayed home, and Audra and Seth, who were off with each other.  This left seven of us wandering around in the cold.  At the fourth bar we tried (we may only have one restaurant in Obukhiv, but we have a hell of a lot of bars), we decided being out in the cold was no longer worth it.  Then, we stumbled upon some Ukrainians who apparently disagreed, standing outside of a bar, singing and dancing arm-in-arm in hop-steps to a guy on an accordion.

Karen and I jumped into the tiny group, hop-stepping away.  An older man took Karen’s arms and several others clapped in time around me.  In a town that small, everyone knew we were foreigners and they were delighted we were joining in.  That is a good trait about Ukrainian culture: they’re always welcoming and love it when others take part in their traditions.

We twirled ‘round and ‘round.

And we were still sober. 

The evening continued with the decision to just buy alcohol and go back to my apartment mine.  I had already asked Anna about bringing back guests at night, and she said that as long as we kept quiet and cleaned up, she was okay with it.

Gerry begged off, too tired and wanting to go home.  And then there were six. 

Twenty minutes after Scott bought two bottles of pepper-spiced vodka, we were knocking the ice off our boots in my hallway.  The three Loshas were there, crowded around the computer in the living room and watching a movie.  When we came in, they turned it off and put on some music. An hour later, everyone except me was drunk.

Surprisingly, nothing had happened since the Taxi of Love with Karen or Lauren.  Two weeks had passed and another sexually charged situation had never materialized simply because everyone was so busy with language classes, technical classes, preparing lesson plans and teaching children that we rarely had time to hang out anymore. 

That and there hadn't been alcohol. 

Rachel was leaning against Karen on a couch when Karen suddenly began groping her.  I watched from another couch as Karen then straddled Rachel and began making out with her.  I continued to watch, mouth open, as Rachel pulled Karen towards Scott and the two began making out with him, soon pulling his shirt off and revealing a tank top underneath.

The three Loshas gaped.

I gaped.

I was sitting in between Lauren and Rebecca, Lauren leaning against me and Rebecca leaning against the arm rest with her legs stretched over my lap.  Every time I looked over at Rebecca, I couldn't help but glance down at her breasts pushing the word “Georgia” out from her tight black tee-shirt.  The three of us silently watched the spectacle of spit that was going on across the room for several minutes.  I found myself uncomfortable with what Scott, Rachel and Karen were doing, but I wasn’t sure why.  Maybe it had to do with that fact that three 17 year-old Ukrainians were in the room, one of them being my host brother.  Ukrainians are considered adults at 17, when they leave high school and head to university, but I still saw them as kids.  Ironically, they were less interested in the PG-rated threesome than I was.  Instead of watching, they were arguing about which songs to play on the computer.

Maybe I was bothered because I was jealous. 

Rebecca’s hand stroked the back of my neck and she was definitely sending vibes that she wanted Lauren to go away.  Lauren seemed not to notice or care.  As always, she was Zen.

Scott’s tank top was still on, but now the girls’ hands were under it.

Yep, definitely jealous. 

“Who wants to make out?” I asked aloud.

“I do,” said Lauren, instantly. 

Rebecca’s immediately got miffed and stopped stroking my neck, choosing to lean farther back against the arm rest and look off at the wall.  Between the two, Rebecca would have been my choice for the evening. 

If I had to make a choice, that is.

I leaned over to her and playfully asked:  “Don’t want to make out?”

In the almost two months I had been in Ukraine, I had been partly cured of my fear of rejection.  It mostly had to do with the fact that I was obviously in demand.  Making out with three girls in a taxi cab hadn't hurt, either. 

“Not with everyone watching,” she said, looking back. 

“We could go to my room,” I said. 

“Rumor mill,” she countered. 

“Is already grinding,” I said.  “If it’s past your boundaries, though, that’s fine.”

Maybe she took that as a challenge, because she thought about it for a moment.

She asked: “Hochesh?”  You want to? 

“Ya hocho,” I said.  I want to.  I at least knew that much in Russian, and wanted to

impress her. 

She thought for another moment and then nodded an assent. 

So I stood up off the couch, pulled her up by her hand and then gently pushed her in the direction of my room.  I then reached a hand out for Lauren's and tugged her up to let her know that she was coming, too.  I wanted what Scott was getting. 

I think Lauren had been too drunk to realize that Rebecca had come as well.  When the three of us were in my room and Lauren saw that Rebecca was there, she asked: “Had you wanted me to come?”

“Yes,” I said. 

Nor had Rebecca realized that Lauren had followed us until she had spoken.

Rebecca started to walk towards my door, but I took her by the waist, pulled her towards me and kissed her.  After a few seconds of my tongue and Rebecca’s meeting and re-meeting, I realized that Lauren was still standing there, watching us but doing nothing. 

Did she really need that much encouragement? 

Lips still locked with Rebecca's, I reached out with my free hand and grabbed Lauren’s shirt, pulling her towards us. 

She got the hint. 

She began kissing the back of my neck.  The sensations of two sets of lips piled on top of one another, merging into a pleasant, undifferentiated mass.  We stood there for a few minutes, making out like that, me groping Rebecca’s little ass with one hand, Lauren’s round one with the other.  Slowly, the girls began to reciprocate, their hands wandering on my body and dodging each other’s.

Hoping to move the situation along, I began to unbutton my shirt and Rebecca’s hands came up to help me.  Lauren slid it off my shoulders. 

It was like being in a fucking movie.

I love Peace Corps.

I began to pull Rebecca’s shirt up, but she said “Niet,” so my hands slid back down.

My hands instead moved over her, groping her through her clothes, and her body responded, pushing against me as my hands wandered under her clothing, finally unhooking her bra and pulling her shirt up, her breasts now against my bare chest. 

I twisted my torso to start kissing Lauren, and Rebecca’s lips dropped to my neck.  When I turned back to Rebecca, I found she had used her hands to re-hook her bra and pull her shirt back down.

Dammit. 

Then the light in my room went out, then back on.  One of the Loshas or one of the Americans was messing with us, flipping the light switch that, because this is Ukraine, was outside the door.  Then there was the other problem of making out with two girls in Ukraine: no door lock.

I opened the door, but no one was there.  I then theatrically flipped the switch off, which made the girls laugh and release some of their nervous tension.  I began kissing Rebecca again and Lauren continued to kiss my bare back.  I lowered Rebecca onto my bed and unhooked her bra again.  I finally had full reign of her torso, was finally able to see those amazing breasts.  I sucked on her nipples, kissed, licked and nibbled her flat stomach while she arched, reacted, sighed.  Lauren, team player, groped me from behind.  I moved Rebecca higher on the bed and maneuvered Lauren onto it to kiss her.  Rebecca, not team player, just lay there while I made out with Lauren.  Lauren apparently had no hang-ups about this sort of thing and helped me take her shirt and bra off, leaving her sitting topless on the bed while my hands groped her breasts.  Perhaps more comfortable now that Lauren was topless, Rebecca finally let me slide her shirt and bra off as well 

I was making out with two topless girls in my room.

This was amazing. 

One hand roamed over each girl and I reveled in very different sensations coming from each palm: Rebecca muscled stomach and Lauren’s soft one, Rebecca's perky medium-sized breasts and Lauren's hanging large ones.  The girls were not touching each other as I hoped, though, and kept waiting for their turn to kiss me.   

This wasn’t going quite like in a movie, but it was still pretty damn good.

Then someone knocked on the door, and both Lauren and Rebecca dove under my blanket.  When I went to the door, no one was there.  Closing the door again, I pulled the blanket off both girls, revealing them again.  Figuring that we needed to end the taking turns thing, I pulled Lauren off the bed and lay down on it.  This left Rebecca wedged between me and the wall and Lauren kneeling on the floor to my right.  Now that I was back between them, they were finally back to giving me simultaneous attention.  Rebecca made out with me while Lauren kissed and licked my chest and stomach, one hand groping my crotch.  I liked where this was going.

Then the door opened an inch and shut. 

I was going to kill every single Losha in the world.

The three of us stared at the door, waiting to see if it was going to open again.

“I was wondering where my limit was, and that was it,” said Rebecca, sitting up and I again marveled at her body illuminated by the street lights streaming through the thin curtains on my window.  She stayed like that, debating, obviously wresting with her wants and limitations. A combination of loneliness, drunkenness and horniness was fighting against the unlocked door, her friends just a room away, and propriety in general.  Rebecca then seemed to make up her mind and she lay back down against me.  The fire had definitely gone out for both girls, though, the fright of the getting caught extinguishing it.  I stroked Rebecca’s back with one hand, and Lauren’s face and neck with the other.  It would have been nice to have both of them lying against me, but my bed was coffin-sized and Rebecca and I barely fit in it together.

Finally, Rebecca started kissing my neck, and then licking my ear, and I realized we might be up for another go. 

And then I heard: “Dahni?”  My host mother outside my door, calling for me.  Oh shit. 

Up until then, I wouldn’t have cared if the whole party had burst in.  I wouldn’t have cared if I was kicked out of Peace Corps for getting it on with two girls (I would get to go home and have a good reason for it, too).  But my host mother upset: very bad.  I rolled out of the bed and immediately began looking for my shirt.  It took me nearly a minute to find it in the dark and get it on, the girls behind me asking each other in sharp whispers where their clothes were, their hushed voices loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door.  Shirt on, I slipped out into the hallway to find my host mother standing by the door to her room.  She wasn’t mad, and apparently hadn’t heard the girls.  She just told me that the music was keeping her awake and if we could end the party. 

I went into the living room to find Scott with his shirt still off, with both girls on top of him and kissing him.  The three Loshas were there, talking to each other and ignoring Scott and the girls. 

Luckily, my host mother hadn’t made it any farther than the hall.

I told everyone it was time to go. 

We called a cab.  Rebecca and Lauren wandered into the living room, Rebecca sheepishly refusing to look anyone in the eye.  We went out into the frigid air, libidos cooled and everyone except for me piling into the taxi. 

I came back inside to find the Loshas in awe.  Scott had been kissing two girls in the living room, yes, but their assumption was that I'd had sex with the other two girls in my room.

I might have gotten close, I wanted to say, if they hadn’t kept messing with me.

Instead I said nothing, refused to answer their questions and went to sleep.

The next day, one of the Loshas, the one who spoke a bit of English, approached me on the street and said that I should meet some friends of his, some, well, connected friends.  “You are a very cool guy,” he said. “They should know you.”

Apparently having sex with two women is what gets you into the Ukrainian Mafia.   

The toughest job you’ll ever love?

I declined.