There's Something About Mason (and Krystal) by RT-Brown

Admittedly, this was going to be my first threesome. I’ve slept with both genders and everybody in between, but never at the same time. It’s not that I’ve never had the opportunity; it’s that I’m just quite picky with my partners and when the opportunity has arisen before, I’ve just never felt ‘it’.Whatever ‘it’ is.

Mason was an interesting guy though – he was about 26 years old and after graduating from some university with an MBA, he was through his second year of a “Graduate Scheme” for a large multi-billion pound, worldwide organisation. He wasn’t senior within the business at all, but he was certainly rubbing with shoulders he felt would get him places, eventually.

The funny thing about Mason is that despite his “high flying” career (and perhaps his misplaced sense of grandeur), his hyper-masculine attitude and his kind-of-cheap-but-well-fitting-suit, we had met on Grindr – the male orientated hookup app – his profile was brief; he was a straight man who wanted to experiment with other men, despite being in a long term relationship.

Oh the cliche.

I’ll tell you about how Mason and I.. err, ‘bonded’ another time, but over time we came to know each other quite well. There was no real emotion between us, other than close male-friends who fooled around every few months, but he was somebody who had a specific itch that needs scratching and I was somebody who scratched his itch.

I’d very happily sit having a beer with Mason in a bar somewhere, talking about whatever it is that guys drinking in bars talk about, and nobody would be able tell the difference between us and two colleagues decompiling the week on a Friday evening. On this occasion, we hadn’t seen each other for a few months.

“I told Krys about us”, he said, after a few moments of silence.

I couldn’t help but laugh out loud, but I quickly regained my composure for his sake.

“You’ve got to be kidding”

“She found me on Tuesday night watching some gay kink porn”

“Was it good?”

“Krys walking in or the porn?”

“Well, both, I guess”

“She interviewed me about it, or at least she may as well have done”

He didn’t answer my question, but whatever, I let it go.

“Were you honest with her?” I asked, sincerely.

“Yeeahhh” he drew, almost with a sigh of regret.

Mason continued to tell me the whole story of what was said between them; she caught him and was surprised, but not overly judgemental. She recognised that everyone has their “thing” and had no problem with him pulling himself off to whatever he wanted, as long as her needs didn’t go unfulfilled. They spoke for a few hours, apparently; throughout, he gave her a full rundown of his “things” – and based on what you’re eventually going to learn about Mason, you can trust me when I say that a recital of his fetishes must have taken the bulk of their conversation time.

“But then she asked if I’d ever done any of it”, he paused.

“Did you say “all of it” or…?”

“I said I’d experimented with you”

I took a pause while in my head I calculated all the different possible outcomes of this situation.

“Did you tell her when and how often?”

“She pretty much guessed”

“How did she react?”

“She went apeshit.”

“Understandably.”

“She had a lot of questions and long story short, she now kinda knows you as well as I do”

“Even The Incident in Kyot-”

“Yes”

To tell you the truth, I’m an unreliable narrator. I write these to the best of my memory and recollection, but all these events form a complex web of stories and experiences that I’m trying my best to seperate for you – so if maybe The Incident in Kyoto will come up another time, but I don’t want to pull you to it just yet. I cringed a little that he’d told her the story, however.

“Well, shit”

Mason puckered his lips in that “oh well, it’s happened now” kind of way, behind a smirk.

“Krys likes the sound of you though-”

“She’s only human”, I replied, automatically and as dry as ever.

“Specifically she said you “sound like not a prick”…”

I am a bit of a prick.

“…and it turns out she’s had a bit of a fantasy for a while about a threeway”

He stopped talking and then just looked at me.

I had mixed feelings at this point, because on one hand, it just became obvious why he telling me about his disclosure and from what I know of her, Krystal does seem pretty decent, but on the other, I feel like he’s skimmed over a relationship defining event almost flippantly.

“Are you being serious?” I ask, eyebrows raised.

We were mates; he knew my concerns. There was the very real possibility that to Krystal I was the bad person that’s come between their relationship. She was never meant to find out, it was never anything meaningful, it’s just the itch, that’s all it ever was and all it ever will be; Mason and I both know this. Going from her discovering his porn habits to wanting a threesome in the space of a three minute conversation over a beer just didn’t seem to check off my mental “informed, consenting, and understanding” checklist that something like this would need.

“Yeah, it took a while and it hasn’t just been one conversation, it’s been this whole thing”

“And she wants a threesome with me and you?”

“If you are up for it, yeah”

I mean, obviously I’m up for it, but I gave him a few days to report back to Krys and let things peter out between them – she may have changed her mind if it became too real, he may decide that a threesome would breach the “itch only” agreement by bringing his long term partner into the situation; there was any number of other things that could change between being invited and the ceremony itself.

Besides, I was already pushing my own moral boundaries and doing mental gymnastics to rationalise fucking somebody behind a partners back, I wasn’t going to make things worse if I could avoid it, so I gave them time, before jumping in.

Sexuality is a weird and grey area, across the entire human spectrum it’s so varied, often so repressed, treated like the shameful secret and yet, we’ve all got our secret desires; sometimes these desires just need to simmer before we develop the confidence to admit them, to talk about them, or to experiment with them.

It was never a matter of meeting Krys for the first time and immediately taking my pants off. We met up a few times with the idea of a threesome simmering under the surface, I was often the third-wheel at a restaurant or yet-another-bar, just the three of us, but I didn’t seem to notice very much.

They were obviously very close to each other and were obviously a couple, but we spoken openly and freely between each other across all manner of topics. We laughed a lot, we spoke a lot, we shared a lot – we were comfortable with each other, though I was careful to maintain my distance from Krys; I didn’t want to blur any lines, not really out of a fear, but because this was a delicate situation that all parties need to walk through carefully.

It came to a head when we were dining at a French restaurant; it had recently been awarded a Michelin Star. I’d offered to pay this time, since it was my suggestion. Krys was wearing a slim fitting black dress, that politely covered any exposed cleavage, but still accentuated the shape of her breasts and her figure, I was in my slightly more formal grey suit, which Mason had also seemed to have copied.

After the waitress had taken away our plates – a particularly well cooked Cassoulet – I excused myself to the bathroom to freshen up. On my return, they were both quiet, relaxed and just sat waiting.

“Everything alright?” I asked, half forgetting we’d only ever met because Krys wanted a threesome; it felt just as if some friends were talking about you, one you approach with light and wry suspicion.

“I was thinking…” Krys said, with a pause

“…why don’t you come back for some after dinner drinks at our place?”

It was with this I felt a leg against mine under the table. It wasn’t an overly sexual touching, but it was touching – it was physical contact. Honestly, because of the seating arrangements, to this day I’m still not quite sure who the leg brushing against me belonged to, but it was a comforting feeling. It was the manifestation of their joint approval of me, that they both – as one unit – trusted me to become, even if temporarily, a part of their dynamic.

“We seem to have been saving up wine, you can help us finish off”, she said with a laugh.

“I am definitely good at drinking wine – if you want to call a cab and I’ll settle the bill”, I replied.

The great thing about Uber is that it’s seamless; somebody just turns up to where you are and you get out at wherever you want to go. The situation flowed from one scene to the next, with no change in the excitable and charged atmosphere. We all just felt warm with and around each other.

I know I’ve jibed at Mason and his choice of suits, and I know that I dedicated a whole sentence to telling you about the Michelin Star restaurant and their food, but I promise you that I’m not particularly fancy or of a particular class. Mason and I were sat on their sofa, with our jackets and ties taken off, our shirts unbuttoned around the collar. Mason had his sleeves rolled up, showing off his nicely toned forearms, and Krys had pulled up a bean-bag in front of us, her legs raised and resting on the sofa between us with one foot touching each of us.

“So Mase, when you first kissed Rob, did you understand why I wanted you to shave your beard?” Krys joked, between drinking from her wine glass.

“I didn’t mind it!” says Mason, “I thought the feeling of Rob’s stubble was quite sexy”

My eyes opened wide and I stared at Krys comically. Krys laughed but pointed out that my stubble was quite well groomed without actually saying that whatever Mason had at one time on his face was less so, though I’d only ever known Mason clean shaven.