For Part I click here.
At this point I officially knew someone was going to die that night. Cocaine and Viagra?
Iowa: I’ll try one.
Frank: Me too.
Nando: No thanks, I’m 34, not 84. My equipment works just fine.
They all looked in the water at my Mexican burrito.
Nando: Well don’t judge now, I’m in the water!
They all washed down their extra strength stamina with their drinks then Ethan thought it was a good idea to move things indoors to really “get the party started.” All night he’d been bragging about his steam room that also had an eight-head power jet dispenser. So this was the perfect time to test it out according to him. We got out of the pool and headed to his upstairs bedroom.
Whispering to Frank as we walked upstairs.
Nando: Are you stupid? Coke and Viagra?
Frank: Who are you…Hillary Duff?
Frank: You know, that’s why you’ll never really get famous Nando, no matter how great of a writer you are. Everyone knows that once you get rich and famous you have to start using more drugs and more alcohol to deal with the pressures of fame. But you don’t even do anything now–so how do you expect to get famous? And, if you’re REALLY lucky, you’ll die young in a freak overdose and die a MEGA STAR!
Nando: That makes sense.
We walked into Ethan’s bedroom which looked like something from an Austin Powers movie set. Although, I was surprised (and a bit disappointed) that the bed wasn’t round or shaped like a heart.
Ethan left to refresh his drink while the three of us went inside the steam room, located inside his bathroom inside his bedroom. His glorious steam room was the size of port-a-potty.
Frank: Move over this thing just burned the hair off my left leg.
Nando: Move over where? There’s no space. You know if you’re gonna brag about a steam room you can at least get the measurements rights, he made it sound like you could fit the entire cast of Friends in here.
Iowa: What’s that?
Nando: That must be his eight-jet powered shower head contraption he was yapping about.
Frank: It looks like an Octopus strung out on crack.
Nando: You’d know.
Frank: Well at least he has a steam room, do you?
Nando: I live in a shitty apartment in Brooklyn with no air conditioning, I LIVE in a steam room!
IOWA pulled me closer to him and got romantic with me. He either really liked me or just wanted me and Frank to shut up–either way, I was good. Ethan returned and squeezed into the steam room which was already cramped and threw off the space dynamics so he and Frank decided to leave and head back into the bedroom leaving me alone with IOWA.
Since my pool sex-game didn’t workout as I had planned, I decided I’d give it a second shot. I’d seen a porno once with an erotic shower scene and another with an even sexier steam room scene; I lucked out, I had both including a hot guy–all at once! I reached my arm over and across from IOWA to turn the water knob on and have water come down all over our naked bodies that were pulsating with desire in order to re-create the porn scene in my head, except in all my excitement, I pulled on the water knob too hard and it popped off.
IOWA: Oh my God! Ethan’s gonna kill you!
Nando: Don’t just stand there, help me put it back on.
IOWA: Here, let me try.
Nando: It’s not working, here, give it back to me.
Just as I snapped the knob back into place, all eight shower jets began to spray us with the coldest water we had ever felt.
IOWA: Make it stop!
Nando: How? This isn’t my eight jet-powered shower head steam room. I don’t know how to work this.
Just then, Frank pulled the steam room door open and popped his head inside.
Frank: Okay, I don’t know what you guys just did, but I was in the middle of a great blow job, when Ethan threw me off the bed and ran downstairs screaming at me to get you two to turn the water off because of flooding in his downstairs guestroom.
As it turned out, all the while Ethan was bragging about his steam room, he forgot to mention that construction wasn’t complete and the plumbers needed to return for the water/pipe hook up for the shower head part. I guess his own plumbing wasn’t the only thing non functional in the house!
The three of us were in the bathroom drying off after we finally managed to turn the water off when we heard Ethan approaching.
Ethan: Guys, I want you to meet “Big Eddie.”
We all looked at each other with confused expressions—well, not Frank, his expression was more like excitement. Ethan appeared holding a lengthy black box in his hands.
Frank: Is “Big Eddie” in the box?
Nando: I hope “Big Eddie” isn’t in the box.
Ethan flipped open the lid and there it was, a stainless steel dildo that was at least 12 inches in length. It was two-headed with the bigger side of the penis-shaped-tip having the girth of a coke can and the opposite side was a modest pencil-sized-tip. There was “Big Eddie.”
Frank: Can I hold him?
Ethan asked us all to climb into bed and to do what came naturally. IOWA and I stayed close and made out–keeping things rather PG. Although I did apply my master tongue-technique on IOWA’s neck which made him scream out in pure ecstasy. I have that effect on men. It’s a gift, I don’t own it.
Ethan: I want you guys to try out my very expensive lube.
Nando: I’m good.
IOWA: Me too.
Frank: Lube ME up baby!
The minutes turned into hours of just trying to figure out who was doing what to whom. I was pretty open except I didn’t want Frank touching me–it would be too much like incest.
The rest of the night was one big blur. Then an alarm went off and I woke up. Ethan, still half asleep reached his arm over above his head and slammed the alarm off then returned to sleep. I looked at the time. It was 9 a.m.; it hadn’t been a dream–there was the proof, three of us in bed–Ethan, Frank and me.
Ethan and Frank fell asleep holding one another’s genitals. It was rather cute in a adultery-like kind of way. But then I noticed a few other things. Are those hair plugs on Ethan? Oh no, are those freckles or liver spots all over his legs and arms? Eeewww, and are his pecs real? They look like implants because the rest of his body is so out-of-shape. And look at that Jay Leno chin–it screams chin implant. He must also have tons of Botox too because I never saw him frown, not even when I flooded his downstairs guestroom.
I gently whispered to Frank.
Nando: Get up bitch. We have to get out of here.
Frank: What? Kent, go check the lasagna.
Nando: Frank, get up!
Frank: What time is it?
Nando: 9 a.m.
Frank: Oh my God, we have to leave, I have brunch in a few hours and there is a bloody Mary with my name on it.
Nando: How do we get home? We’re in Staten Island, remember?
Nando: Staten Island, you dumb ass!
We both leave Ethan asleep and go downstairs to hunt for our clothes. I looked around the house. In the dark, the home wasn’t too impressive so you can only imagine what it looked like in natural lighting.
Frank: What is this?
Nando: Looks like an art sculpture of the Wicked Witch of the East’s legs wearing the Ruby Slippers.
Frank: This guy needs major help.
As I got dressed, Frank was still looking around for his clothes.
Frank: Nando where are my clothes?
Nando: How should I know?
Frank: You’re the boring sober one, it’s your job to keep track of these things.
Nando: I’m not boring. And it’s not my job to keep track of things…their outside by the lawn chairs.
Frank: Go get them for me. I’m naked and can’t go outside with no clothes on, I do have some morals.
Nando: This from the guy who was yelling no more than two hours ago, “Spank me, Spank me I haven’t been to the rodeo in a long time.”
Frank: Hey, those are intimate details of my love life, now go get my clothes.
I come back and hand Frank his clothes.
Frank: My ass cheeks hurt. IOWA sure knows how to spank.
Nando: IOWA never spanked you, it was Ethan.
Frank: What? I gotta stop drinking.
Nando: Yeah, IOWA left before your freaky-spanking-craze took over.
Frank: Left? Left where?
Nando: He told Ethan to drive him to the nearest public transit station and they left in the middle of the night. You must have passed out–then when he returned the two of you started the Great Spanking Adventure of ’09, while I watched in horror.
Frank: Well if IOWA is dead somewhere in a field in Staten Island it’s his own damn fault, doesn’t he know, “You come as a group and you leave as a group?”
We heard Ethan get up and creep down the stairs.
Ethan: You boys alright? My driver is off today, but I’ll drop you off at the express bus when you’re ready.
Frank: Sure, give us ten minutes and we’ll be good to go.
Ethan went to check on the water damage I had caused with my porno re-enactment.
Nando: Frank, you have your iPhone?
Frank: Yes, why?
Nando: Run upstairs and take a picture of Big Eddie.
Frank: I’m not gonna do that.
Frank: You have to respect “Big Eddie.”
Nando: You’re kidding me, right?
Frank: When it comes to “Big Eddie,” I don’t kid.
Ethan dropped us off at the bus station but not before telling us about his four horses and his boat. As we waited for the Staten Island X1 bus, Frank lit up a cigarette.
Nando: What’s that smell?
Frank: It’s called Staten Island, baby.
Nando: Hey, I was really working IOWA hu? You heard him scream?
Frank: That wasn’t you, that was “Big Eddie.”
Frank: Nando, you couldn’t make anyone scream unless you used a butcher knife and were slicing their throats.
Nando: So that wasn’t me?
The bus pulled up and we climbed aboard.
Nando: But I’m a good kisser,right?
Frank: Yeah, according to your cousin.
Nando: I told you that in confidence.
Frank: Nando, I’ve got bigger problems. Just shut up for a minute.
Nando: Why? Cause your Muslim? Someone’s not getting their 40Virgins when they die!
He shot me an evil look.
Nando: Frank, religion is made up–it was created to just suppress our actions and it doesn’t really matter.
Frank: I’m not talking about that–although 40 Virgins would be hot!
Nando: They’ll be 40 FEMALE virgins, Frank.
Frank: I’m feeling guilty about Kent.
Nando: Frank, relationships are made up–they were created to just suppress our actions and they don’t really matter.
Frank: You know the perfect things to say to cheer me up.
Nando: Besides, he burned your two-year anniversary dinner, remember?
Frank: You are so right! Screw Kent!
Nando: That’s the spirit.
As we took that long ride of shame back into the city, I couldn’t help but wonder a few things: were relationships really worth the hard work in keeping them going? And what about experimenting with new things in your life–was that just an excuse to be kinky and get away with it? And what about IOWA? Was he still alive?
I may never get answers to any of my questions, but I do know that I broke out of my shell that night and had a great time–despite the fact that “Big Eddie” had an even greater time.
How To Have A Proper Foursome: Part I