When Double-Teaming A Girl With Your Fraternity Brother Goes Horribly, Hilariously Wrong

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Nice Move

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Note: The following story was imparted to me by TFM Tech Guy. It is told from his point of view, starting with him walking into his apartment.

After waking up on my buddy’s couch Sunday morning, I drove home and walked into my apartment to find a depraved and disastrous scene. Picture frames were cracked and hung at crooked angles. Chairs were reduced to wooden splinters. The glass coffee table was shattered, and a trail of blood led from the jagged shards to the sofa, where Kevin was passed out on his stomach stark naked. A gnarly gash was carved into his right ass cheek. My other roommate, Tony, lay amongst the debris on the floor like a starfish, also naked, with a black eye and a full-on erection.

Kevin stirred awake on the sofa.

“Dude, what the fuck did you do?” I demanded.

“Wha? Whaddya mea — ow fuck!” Kevin swore as he rolled over onto his fresh butt wound.

“Whaddya mean whaddya mean?” I asked. “This place is trashed. Your ass is bleeding!”

Kevin paused for a moment as if to ponder a complex equation, then groaned and smacked his forehead as the previous night’s debauchery came back to him. I heard a voice from behind me.

“You ruined it, asshole.”

I turned to see Tony, still lying naked on the floor, glaring angrily at Kevin.

“Ya fucking ruined it,” Tony repeated. “Now what am I supposed to do with this?”

He gestured toward his erection with both hands.

“You only get so many thousands of boners in a lifetime, ya know.”

“Both of you shut the fuck up and tell me what happened,” I said. “And Tony, put that thing away for Christ’s sake.”

***

Kevin and Tony were lifelong friends from New Jersey who both joined my fraternity at Penn State. Like any friendship that carries over from youth into adulthood (I use that term loosely), there is bound to be a significant amount of competition between parties. That night, the rivalry came to a boiling point.

Each of them had hit it off with a beautiful woman at the bar, and when the clock struck 2 and everybody piled into an Uber, each of them was convinced that the woman they were sitting next to was going to put out. Problem was, there was only one woman in the car, smack dab between them in the middle seat. Let’s call her Casey.

When they reached the apartment, Casey sat down on the end of the couch. Tony and Kevin jostled and elbowed their way for the seat to her right. Tony won, but Kevin wasn’t about to give up. He came in from the left, and with a twisting motion of the pelvis, somehow managed to wedge himself between Casey and the arm of the sofa. The stalemate continued.

“Care for a night cap?” Tony asked Casey.

“I’ll take some wine,” she said.

“I’ll get it,” Kevin said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Tony said, glaring at Kevin with a cordial smile and rage-filled eyes.

They both practically sprinted to the counter and grabbed the bottle of gas station Pinot Grigio simultaneously. A haphazard tug-of-war ensued before Kevin pried the bottle out of Tony’s hands. Kevin poured two glasses of wine and returned to his spot on the sofa. Tony took the bottle and joined them.

After another struggle for the remote, someone turned on Netflix. Tony put his arm around Casey. Kevin did the same. Tony slammed his fist on Kevin’s shoulder socket from behind Casey’s back. Kevin smacked Tony on the back of the head.

When the first glass of wine and the theme song to “The Office” were finished, Tony started rubbing Casey’s thigh. Kevin took the other. Casey giggled, loving every second of the sexual arms race. Tony turned her head towards him and kissed her. Kevin turned her head back towards him. Then she reached down and grabbed both of them by the dick. Tony looked at Kevin. Kevin looked at Tony. Both of them looked at Casey. Then everyone started tearing off their clothes as fast as possible.

Casey stood naked in the middle of the room. When she bent over, the guys ran around her, shoving one another in the race for the superior orifice like a game of musical chairs. Tony slid in first. Kevin settled for the front.

A couple minutes into the Eiffel Tower, Kevin motioned for a switch-up. Tony shook his head.

“Come on bro,” Kevin said.

“Fuck no man,” Tony said.

“Dude!”

“Dude no!”

Then, with his dick still inside of Casey’s mouth, Kevin wound up, reached over her, and punched Tony in the eye. Tony responded with an uppercut to the jaw. They continued to exchange blows like Rock-‘Em-Sock-‘Em-Robots with Casey bent over between them, each one trying to force the other out of his respective hole. It probably looked something like an Extreme Arm Wrestling match, only with the competitors holding onto a naked chick instead his opponent’s hand.

Then Tony shoved Kevin in the chest. Kevin went sprawling backwards, crashing through the glass coffee table. He stood up and screamed in pain as he pulled a bloody shard out of his ass cheek, threw it down, and tackled Tony. The two rolled around on the floor, chucking each other into walls and chairs. Fully enraged. Fully engorged. Casey sat in the corner of the room sobbing inconsolably.

At some point during the Torqued-out tussle, Casey got dressed and left. Tony and Kevin eventually tired themselves out and fell asleep.

As the dust cleared and morning came, I walked in on the deplorable and shameful sight, which was met with an equally deplorable and shameful story.

The two of them are still best friends, of course. Tony recently asked Kevin to be his best man.

Image via YouTube

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