Symmetry

“Do you want to help me suck my boyfriend’s dick?” I asked. Tea had just come to New York to visit me all the way from Milan, so I felt like I should do something special for her.

“Wellll,” she said absently, making face after face into the mirror. “What does he look like?”

“Uh, I don’t know. Kind of like a sick bird I guess.”

She spun around, set the hairbrush she was using as a microphone down onto my nightstand and became suddenly serious. “OK,” she said. “I’m in.”

Tea and I haven’t been friends for very long, but it feels as if we know each other really well because we’re basically the same person. She writes a blog about sex too. We also both have big noses, and look surprisingly similar except she has short black hair and I have long blonde hair, which means aesthetically we make a really good combo. Like if I was a guy, I’d want to look down and see the two of us sucking my dick.

“And we both have sex faces,” she said. I’d been thinking out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“Like some girls are cute, some are beautiful, and some just have sex faces.” I didn’t fully understand, but I liked the sound of it so I nodded my head OK.

“I’m really into symmetry in sex,” I said. “My favorite porn video ever is this one where a French guy fucks these three girls who all look really similar, except one is blonde, one is brunette and one is a redhead. It starts with the girls lying on their backs along a white bed, and the guy goes down the line and fucks them one by one. Then they all flip over and he takes turns fucking them from behind. And throughout the video they keep changing positions, but the point is that every time the girls’ movements are synchronized, and the guy always fucks each of them exactly the same. If he does something to the first girl–pulls her hair, chokes her, whatever–then he has to do it to the other two a well.”

“Uh huh.” She was paying very close attention now.

“It’s weirdly clinical but it’s also so hot. It’s all about symmetry, consistency, balance. Do you get what I mean?”

“I think so.”

“Or… you know that Cass Bird photo of the two girls flashing the highway?”

“Uh…”

“One of the girls is Bijou Phillips.”

“Oh, yeah!”

“Well that’s the general vibe. This idea of the same but different. Sex in multiples. It’s been my dream to try and create this for a while now.”

“I could be into that,” she said, smiling. “But I mean, you know me: just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” It’s true. As dominating as Tea is in “real life”, she’s loves to be bossed around sexually. All of her (best) sex stories involve her being spit on or locked in a closet or whatever. One of “the rules” set for her by her last boyfriend was that she had to carry around a metal collar in her purse at all times, just in case he allowed her to see him.

“It was a black leather collar with a heavy metal chain,” she said for the millionth time, “and the part around my neck had spikes on it. Think classic dog collar. Also, I left the price tag on it because it made me feel cheaper. I really grew to love it and I miss carrying it around, if I’m honest. Now it just sits in my closet and I take it out every once in a while to feel sorry for myself.”

One thing I like about Tea is that she has a way of twisting all of her would-be tragic stories into something really funny. Even when she’s depressed she’s laughing about the fact that she’s depressed. She’s more a force of nature than a girl.

“I’m really happy that you want to help me make my fantasy come true,” I said, suddenly feeling very close to her.

“Well I’m honored that you asked me.”

[To be continued…]