Steak or Threesome Part VI: Torn

2000004899_500This is Part 6 in the story of the time I chose between steak or a threesome. Click here to start at the beginning of the series.

FRAZZLED

Back in the kitchen am am frazzled as shit. I am in charge of making dinner and my brain is letting me down. There are two women kissing each other in the next room and my brain can’t think about anything else. I can’t remember how to open a bottle of wine. I can’t remember how to set a table. I can’t remember how to work the oven. Nothing. No poise at all. Brain is on overload and seems to have shut down.

Apparently, every single utensil I need in the kitchen has sprouted fucking wings and flown away. Because I can’t find a goddamn thing I need as I frantically try to cook. Two women are making out in the next room and I can’t find a fucking spatula! I am going to fucking hyperventilate!

To make matters worse, the women have become high maintenance. I don’t know what’s worse, when they are calling me from the other room because they want their waiter, or when they are silent and my brain is wondering what I am missing.

It is torture! How the fuck am I supposed to cook steaks with this going on in the next room? I was wound tight. This is more than my brain could handle. It is a miracle the I didn’t have an aneurism complete with seizures.

TORN BETWEEN WORLDS

SHWOOOORRRRP–I walk in den to ask how they like their steaks cooked. They are fucking making out feeling each others’ crotches.

SCHWOOOORRRP–In kitchen making more Red Headed Sluts while steaks are cooking. My anxiety level is beyond high. This is too much for me to take! Do you know how sinful it is to overcook a Filet Mignon? Why do you even get a fucking filet if you are going to ruin it by cooking it medium or, heaven forbid, cook it medium well. I should have just put the damn things in the oven if I was going to cook them medium well. Why not just buy a damn meatloaf instead. That would be a total disaster. I was under major pressure because I needed to be focused on these divine steaks. Not to mention I was trying to hurry because, you know, I had a fucking MENAGE A TROIS to attend!

SHWOOOORRRRP–Back to den. Thumper is bent over the fucking sofa with Bambi slapping her ass and doing this sexy ass cheek caress in between licks. Thumper has on tight jeans that look incredible, and Bambi gives me this nose slightly crinkled naughty look with those blue eyes as she slaps Thumper’s ass. Yes, at this point they are totally fucking with me. Why? To be fucking cruel is why. Like cats toying with a mouse, they can’t help themselves. They are women and are fucking with me because they can. Nor would I fucking care ordinarily, except that the best steaks the world has ever seen were currently left alone without my TLC. But I am powerless to leave under Bambi’s gaze and have to go in for a kiss. It is poorly timed as her spanking backswing collides with my hand and BONK–the red headed slut I was delivering is spilled all on the floor.

SHWOOOORRRRP–Papertowels in kitchen.

the_fonzSHWOOOORRRRP–The women are dancing to the music as the now man bitch I’ve become cleans sticky Red Headed Slut off the floor. As I walk back towards the kitchen they forcefully grab me and try to make me dance with them. Were I not panicky about the steaks this would have been the coolest moment of my life. As they danced around I sort of did the Arthur Fonzerlli thing of just standing there as they danced around me. I was kissing them, they were kissing each other….At one point I kissed Bambi and put her hand on my cock, which was now rock hard. Thumper clearly moans with delight as she watches us start to get into it. The song ends and I think, “Oh fuck! The steaks!

SHWOOOORRRRP–Through the kitchen, through the sliding glass door, and on the deck is the grill where the steaks are finishing. I am holding a flashlight making the delicate decision of if it’s time for the steaks to come off. Ordinarily I would know this without looking because my manly steak grilling spidey senses would know exactly how well they are cooked. Based on heat of the fire, pitch of the sizzle, and a bunch of other intuitive stuff that comes with our penises at birth, grill masters know this shit. But because these damn temptresses are fucking with me, my manly cooking spider senses were out of alignment, and I had to visually check.

While I am doing this there is movement in the corner of my eye. I look up to see two naked women dancing their asses off.

To be continued…

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3 thoughts on “Steak or Threesome Part VI: Torn

  1. Pingback: Streak or Threesome Part V: They Kiss | Smooth ReEntry

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