Steak or Threesome Part VIII: C-3PO

s-NAKED-DINNER-largeThis is Part 8 of the Steak or Threesome series. Click here to start at the beginning.

I am sitting at the dinner table gloating over this wonderful moment. Just sitting there, looking at two beautiful women, about to eat the best steak ever. When we are done eating, I am going to take them both back to Thumper’s bedroom and stay there all night long. At this point I had ZERO doubt that it was all going to come together nicely, and it was going to be fantastic too.

Does life get any better than this? I mean, I just pulled the women off of each other to come eat! I think it is safe to say the chemistry is there. We are sitting there, drinking and laughing, naked as shit. NAKED AS SHIT I SAY! We were all so comfortable around each other. How could this not happen? At this point, what on earth could possibly go wrong?

As I sit there gloating about what a great accomplishment this is, I decide to thank Thumper. She is the one who decided she wanted to fulfill my threesome fantasy. She found Bambi, invited us to her house, and basically seduced her. She is my partner in this and made it all happen. I am overwhelmed with gratitude at the moment and decide a thank you is in order. I say, “Thumper-Rose, this has been a hell of a night. Thank you for having us over.”

A fairly benign statement, right? So I thought. I had no clue it could backfire.

We have spent the whole evening showering Bambi with affection, making her the center of attention. That was part of the plan–to make damn sure Bambi didn’t feel like a third wheel. But I had to open my fucking mouth.

It was the pet name that did it. I called Thumper, “Thumper-Rose”. That is my little pet nickname for her. Southerners do that shit you know–we feel if you have a middle name, you ought to use it.

Bambi hears this and she says, “AWwwwww. That is so sweeeet. You call her Thumper-Rose?”

“Yes. I suppose do…” I replied, still feeling smug inside, “…from time to time I guess I do use her middle name when I’m feeling sappy…”

c-3poNobody except Bambi knows what thoughts crossed her mind in that moment, but she shut down. When I explained my pet name for Thumper, it was just like like I reached across the table and flipped off her power switch. Like C-3PO, the light in her eyes just went out. Powered down.

Clap on, clap off, eat your fucking heart out The Clapper–because my words can shut Bambi down faster than you ever could.

Houston, we have a problem.

“Holy shit!” Thumper said. She was completely clueless to the sudden change in Bambi’s mood. “This is the best steak I’ve ever had! This is absolutely amazing! What did you do!?”

“Bambi, have you tried the steak?”, I asked…grasping for hope.

“Oh God! This is SOOO GOOD! I mean….DAMN! This is the best steak I’ve ever had in my life! You HAVE to tell me what you did!”, Thumper went on, still completely unaware something was amiss with Bambi.

“I used charcoal baby. You can’t cook steaks on a gas grill. I’ve been telling you your whole family has been doing it wrong.”, I said.

Finally Thumper looks up from her plate, a split second away from cussing me out for criticizing her family’s steak cooking skills. It is generally considered hazardous to talk about a woman’s father, especially if she’s been drinking, but she was mesmerized by the glorious steak, and I had to break her attention away from it.

Thumper snapped her head up from the steak, on the verge of a verbal assault, but when we make eye contact she catches her breath. By the look in my eye she can instantly tell something a lot bigger is going on than her family’s cooking skills being called into question.

I said, “Bambi doesn’t look like she’s eaten any of her steak Thumper.” The true message being, SOS 911 alert. Help me get this girl acting right or this party is over!

Thumper glanced over at Bambi and immediately recognized the severity of our situation. Thumper’s steak was half way gone and Bambi hadn’t eaten a bite. Thumper puts her gentle hand on Bambi’s arm and talks to her in a soothing voice, “Bambi, honey, are you going try any of your steak?”, just as a concerned mother would ask her most beloved child.

Bami looks at Thumper right in the eye. It is a weird look. Her eyes were so bright and full of life before. Now they had the empty gaze of a drugged out Amsterdam prostitute. I saw no life behind them at all. Panic was beginning to rise in me. Inisde my head I’m pleading, No no no no no! Please no! Please Bambi, please! This can’t be happening! Please snap your drunk crazy ass out of it!

Bambi slowly turns her gaze from Thumper to me. She looks at me for a minute. I say, “Bambi, that is the best steak you will ever see in your life. I made it just for you. You should at least take one bite.”

She slowly looked down at her steak. Slowly raised her hand towards her plate…and pushed it a few inches away. Too few away it turns out.

Then, without saying a word, her head conked on the table where her plate was moments before. Forehead barely missed plate. Her hair, however, was not so lucky.

Thumper was trying to talk to her but it was no use. We were done. Thumper didn’t understand because she didn’t see the light go out from her eyes like I did. Brambi completely shut down when I used the pet name, “Thumper-Rose”. My best guess is that it triggered a memory of some beaux from her past that she missed terribly. Seeing Thumper get genuine, caring attention from me reminded her of some long lost love, and set off a tidal wave of negative emotions in her.

Either that, or she had the sudden realization that Thumper and I were using her as a fuck toy.

Either way, we were done. This party was over.

The candlelight glistened off the red wine and the secret sauce on her plate. I sat there looking at that pretty brunette hair, draped across her untouched asparagus. Such beautiful hair. The rich green from the asparagus was the perfect colored backdrop for her hair in that candlelight. Flanked by her red wine, the colors complimented each other perfectly. Expressionists painters dream of capturing moments like that.

The scene truly was beautiful. Except for I knew how much butter and garlic were in the secret sauce she was soaking her hair in, so that little bit of knowledge made it not so pretty to me at the time. That, and the fact a grown mother of three had her head on the table like a spoiled toddler. The crazy bitch.

To be continued…

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One thought on “Steak or Threesome Part VIII: C-3PO

  1. Pingback: Steak or Threesome Part VII: Gloating | Smooth ReEntry

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