Opening the 3rd Eye

"They effect everyone differently," Gus was saying. He holds out the baggie like he's offering for us to take a pistachio. Olivia, of course, takes some of the stringy brown mess between her thumb and forefinger and starts to rub it together, looking at it in the hard light of our dorm room that makes everyone's face look dramatic and angular. The shadow her snub nose cast on the side of her face was split into several gray penumbras, through which her green eyes gleamed thoughtfully.

I'm wearing a retro striped shirt and blue jeans, feeling a bit like a hippie chick as I finish the last of my beer and set the bottle down by its neck. We could hear the sounds of campus nightlife drifting in through the open window, and I shiver as a draught of brisk air rushes in.

"Can we shut the window? I'm freezing my ass off," I say.

Gus does that little laugh he always does when he thinks he knows something you don't. He's my best friend in the world, and he's a pain in my ass.

"You're gonna feel hot as all hell if you take these," he says, just as Olivia lowers the twig-like drugs into her lap and turns to face him. "If," he says, raising his eyebrows, "you still want to take 'em. No pressure."

I wrinkle my nose. "What're they called again?" I say.

Before Gus can answer, Olivia cuts him off. "Psilocybin sebresilis. They're indigenous to Central America, and really rare. They can only grow in soil with an extremely specific nutritional make-up."

"Places where people have pissed," Gus says, leaning towards me.

Olivia flushes and rolls her eyes. "That's just an urban legend. The foundational compound is urinonis, which sounds like urine but is actually -"

"Hm, I dunno," I say, cutting her off. "I think I'm going to trust Gus on this one.

Olivia's eyes flash and her blush darkens... until she realizes I'm teasing. Then she sits back in her chair with that goofy, sheepish smile I love. No matter how long I've known her, I can never get over how pretty Olivia is, especially when you can see her dimples. Her eyes are the color of New Zealand, and her hair is as dark and thick as an oat stoat. Her bangs cover her forehead and, when she's been a good month or so between cuts, they hang over her dark, elegant eyebrows. It seems unfair that someone so pretty could also be so smart. But I'm her friend, and I'm a lot cooler than her, so I let it slide.

The three of us have been friends since middle school, and we all came to the same college specifically so we could live together. Now, as sophomores, Gus lives with some guy friends on the other side of campus, and Olivia and I found two other girls to share in a quad.

So, you know, close enough.

We hang out every night, anyway, and on weekends the other two girls are always bouncing between frat parties, so on most nights it feels like we have the place to ourselves.

Tonight is one of those nights. So we bought a case of beer and Gus brought over his game console, and we'd been preparing for a chill night. But Gus also brought Psilocybin sebresilis: funny shrooms.

"And what, they just make you go crazy for a while?" I ask pointedly.

Gus shrugs. "More or less."

"The aborigines would use these in ceremonial practices, particularly coming-of-age rituals," Olivia says, sounding as always like an encyclopedia audiobook. "They claim these mushrooms open your third eye and allow you to experience an entirely new realm of sensations."

Gus looks to me and smirks, shrugging again. "Probably just get super stupid. Howl at the moon. See dragons or whatever. Maybe take off your clothes."

I laugh. "Is that why you're giving these to us? You wanna see us naked, Gus?"

Gus goes red around the ears, but he doesn't lose that winning grin. He's still as skinny as the day we met but he's filled out in the shoulders. He's taller than both Olivia and I, but I can still lift him up if I grab him at the waist. And when I'm drunk, that's often exactly what I do.

Olivia is looking at the open window and the silk curtains fluttering in the wind. If she has thoughts about Gus seeing her naked, she doesn't offer them up.

"So what do we think?" I say, slapping my thighs. "Do we try it?"

Gus looks at Olivia. Olivia, as though deliberately avoiding his eyes, looks at me. Even in the shadowy half-light of the dorm, I can see the sheepish grin tugging at the corner of her lips.

"Yeah," she says, nodding so that her hair falls into her eyes. She sweeps it back with a rocking motion and adjusts her bra strap in the same flourish. "Yeah, I say we do it."

I look at Gus. "Alright, Gussy boy."

He groans. He hates when I call him that, but I don't care.

"Show us how it's done."

"Alright, Anna-banana," he fires back at me, and I scowl. He and Olivia laugh as Gus pours out the flaky pieces of dried mushroom onto the table. "Since you guys insist."

*

Because we can never agree on anything, it's not surprising how long it takes for us to actually take the drugs. I just wanted to reach out and eat them, and Gus wanted to smoke them like weed. Olivia wanted to make tea with them, and at first I thought that was a joke. We looked it up, though, and it turns out that's totally a thing. Olivia boiled the water and steeped the tea with the infuser I bought her for her last birthday when she'd started getting really into English Breakfast.

This did NOT taste like English Breakfast.

We laughed at each other's sour faces as we sipped the foul-smelling mushroom tea, which was the color of gutter water and about as appetizing. None of us felt anything while we were drinking, but it's not like we'd never done drugs together before, so we knew that was normal.

So we started playing a card game, which turned into a drinking game with nebulous rules. Instead of beer, each time that you lost a round, you had to take a sip of the Psilocybin sebresilis. Before long, each of our mis-matched mugs was empty.

We go back to the couch and jammed ourselves together on it. Gus is sitting at the right side, I'm on the left, and Olivia is wedged between us. Neither Olivia nor I feel like watching Gus play a first-person shooter, so we watch some TV for a while and chat idly. Olivia takes off her socks and stretches her feet on the coffee table, slouched down low in the sofa with a sleepy and contented look on her face. Out of habit, Gus puts his arm on the back of the couch so it's around Olivia's shoulder, and she leans her head against him.

"Aw, you guys are so cute," I say, and I laugh when Olivia gives the middle finger.

Gus doesn't say anything.

After I while, I do start to feel different. But it's not in, like, a normal high sort of way. I have this... clean feeling. Delicate and clean. Like I'm made of porcelain, and I'll been completely wiped down with a wet paper towel, in all of my nooks and crannies, too: my ears, my nose, my butt, my navel, everything. Clean. It's a good feeling, fresh and light. I start to see the darkness of the room with a sort of giddiness, like I'm a priceless thing in a drawer that's about to be taken out.

I make eye contact with Olivia, who looks at me wide-eyed with those eyes the color of good weed. We both must look ridiculous because we both start laughing. The sound of us reverberates through the dorm, down the halls, out the window, and into the universe.

Pretty soon, it turns out that Gus was right: we do start feeling really hot. Gus is the first one to start undressing, and Olivia and I react as immaturely as we possibly can: oohing and aahing and giggling to each other until Gus tells us to shut up. He takes off his black tee shirt first, so he's just sitting there in gym shorts and ankle socks. I find myself admiring his body - he's narrow but strong, leaner than I'd realized, and his stomach ripples with muscles. His arms and legs seem to stretch forever, tensing in the cool shadows.

I may have been looking for a while. But Olivia was way worse. She stares at him with her mouth open and her eyes half-lidded, practically drooling. When she finally closes her mouth to swallow, I burst out laughing. She looks at me, alarmed, as though she'd been caught in the act.

"You alright there, 'Liv?" I ask, grinning.

After a moment, the goofy, sheepish grin comes out. Dimples and all. "Y-yeah," she says softly. "I'm good."

"I'm not," Gus says in irritation. "It's hot as fuck in here."

And it's true: now we all have a sheen of sweat that glints in the hard light.

Without even really thinking about it, I pull off my striped tee shirt. This requires standing up to do, and as I'm standing, I kick off my shoes and socks. Finally, (and again, without thinking about it) I unbutton my jeans and slough them down to my ankles, stepping out of them one foot at a time. I drop back down on the sofa in just my underwear and a bra. It takes me a second to realize that both Olivia and Gus are staring at me.

"What?" I say, defensive. "I'm hot."

"Yeah," Olivia says slowly. "You ARE hot."

A moment passes, and we all break down laughing again.

*

Within the next 15 minutes, all three of us are side by side wearing only our underwear, our butts making sweaty indentations in the couch. Olivia's bra is lime green, and it doesn't match her white panties. She explains that it's her favorite bra, the only one that really and truly fits. I tell her that I get that completely, and that boys are so lucky they don't have to wear bras. We both look at Gus expectantly.

Eyes dilated and stripped down to only a pair of dark blue boxers, Gus looks between our faces, then down at our pale, mostly-nude bodies. He sits back into the couch before he speaks.

"You don't HAVE to wear a bra," he says.

As though he were pointing out something completely obvious, like not all dogs being brown or not all cars being fast.

Olivia and I look at each other and then, wordlessly, we each lean forward and reach behind our own backs.

Olivia gets hers first, and she reaches over to help me with mine. If I hadn't been giggling to myself so hard I would have had it, but Olivia takes it off with a flick of her finger. My bra drops onto my tummy and I shove it off onto the floor. We both lean back and sigh ecstatically, both of us looking up to the ceiling with our bare breasts sloping down our sides.

Gus looks at us - my breasts are more pert and symmetrical than Olivia's, but hers are round and full with bubblegum pink nipples and a light freckle near her sternum that I suddenly have an irresistible urge to kiss.

Gus blinks once, slowly, then again. "Whoa," is all he manages to say.

"'Whoa?'" I repeat. I cup Olivia's left breast and she squeals. "You see these and all you can say is 'Whoa?'"

Olivia cackles and slaps my hand away. "Stop it - you're making my nipples hard!"

And then, because I've already crossed the line, I lean forward and put my lips against the freckle on her sternum with an exaggerated kissing noise. I'm surprised by how sensual her gasp is, and I think she is too, because her face flushes dark red. She looks at me with her eyes unfocused and her lips ajar.

"I-I liked that," she says softly.

I resist the urge to tease her for stating the obvious. Instead, I say: "Would you like me to do it again?"

She grins, closing her eyes. She nods.

I dip my head down again and, this time, graze my lips against her right nipple. I can't help it: it's like I'm drawn there by something bigger than myself, stronger than my own mind: I close my lips around it and suck and Olivia gives a sharp intake of breath, followed by a moan of pleasure and relief as I wind my tongue around the tough pink flesh. Her hand goes to her thighs, and her fingers explore the waistband of her panties. As I see this, I snort with abrupt laughter. Seeing Olivia aroused is like if I were to see my sister shoplifting: it's jarring and unexpected, but somehow silly, somehow ridiculous. Olivia's eyes open and she looks at me consciously, her eyebrows arching together, her lips pouting.

"Whaaat?" she drawls.

And because, again, I can't help it, I lean in and kiss Olivia on her gently parted lips.

Our kiss is a whirlpool without walls, and I am drawn into it. I feel my body sinking into hers, and I feel her opening for me. Her thighs twitch and then spread. She slouches further on the couch but never out of my reach: our mouths click softly as one kiss becomes another, then another. Her tongue is first to press into my mouth, and I open wide to accept it.

When I pull away slowly, our lips stay connected by a thread of saliva that only bursts when I brush at my mouth. All I can look at is Olivia's goofy smile, her dimples. I'd never realized just how much I'd wanted to see it like this before.

I reach my hand down automatically towards Olivia's thigh - and, to my surprise, my fingers brush against Gus's wrist. His fingers are already under the waistband of her panties, and Olivia's lily-white hand is holding it there, encouraging him to press harder against the tender flesh.

I grin, then start to laugh stupidly. I stand up off the couch watching their hands twisting together, their fingers intertwining as they work into each other, into Olivia, circling her clit with a slow, steady rhythm. But then, as I'm looking at them - Gus spooning Olivia with his mouth at her ear, his one arm slung over her bare shoulder, the other leading down to between her thighs, the ligaments in his forearms moving in time with her breathing, and Olivia pressing herself against him, eyes blissfully closed - as I'm looking at them I realize that I've never been more happy for them.

Gus never made any sort of move on Olivia or I in all the years we've known each other. Olivia and I would always tease him about his girlfriends and try to set him up in the clumsy way friends do. But somehow, I always knew. I saw the looks he'd give from the corner of his eye. I saw the way Olivia would bite her lip. It had just never put it together before...

Maybe I needed funny shrooms to see what had been right in my face all along.

I'm just pondering this (and starting to subconsciously touch myself as I watch) when I'm pulled into it. It's Olivia who wants me. She takes her hand off herself and reaches out to me. She puts one hand between my thighs and the other around my butt, wrapping her hands together at the other side and pulling me towards her. I cried out in surprise, but the sound caught in my throat when I felt Olivia's snub nose press against my sex and breath me in through the fabric. A wet, oval stain had formed at the front of my panties. Olivia stretches her neck out and bites the waistband, then looks up at me with a mischevious expression as my panties are lifted away from my slick pussy. I step back.

"Take them off," she says softly as she releases me.

I obey. She presses her face against me again, this time with nothing between her soft mouth and my naked pussy except for my own silky curls of pubic hair.

And in that moment, I feel something inside of me roar to life. Really, it's like a billowing: like I'd just sent up a sail, or pulled the cord on my parachute. Either way, I'm now in free fall. My thighs start to ache with longing, and my face burns. I grab the back of Olivia's head, threading my fingers into her hair, and press her more deeply against me. As though she'd been waiting for this, Olivia sticks out her tongue as I swipes her across my clit. I shudder, release, and then pressed her in again. I feel the wriggling of her tongue as though it were a part of me - it's so in tune with the rhythm of my own longing that I can hardly tell where my pussy stops and her face begins. She smiles up at me, locking my eyes as she seals her lips around me, and I feel as though a light in my mind has just broken and sent a cascade of sparks showering down on me. She squeezes my ass and I widen my stance to give her better access to my wet pussy, swollen with lust and heat. I cry out something nonsensical, just as Olivia grabs me by my elbow and pulls me down to the ground.

Now I'm sitting with my legs apart, and Olivia is leaning into my crotch with her ass still in the air, her knees on the edge of the sofa, precariously spread. I lean back on my hands and gasp as Olivia kisses my cunt, sweetly at first, then passionately: I feel her tongue at my entrance, darting in and out of me, passing up and over my clit. I drop my head back and my eyes cross. When I lift my head again, I see that Gus is up on his knees and is holding Olivia's legs around him as though they were competing in a human wheelbarrow race. I watch her white butt cheeks jiggle and spread as Gus puts the head of his cock against her pussy, and she makes a loud, affirmative slurping noise into my thighs.

"Gaaah! Yes! Gus, fuck me, yes!" she exclaims, coming up for air only long enough to say that phrase before diving back into my pussy.

As he plunges himself into her, Gus grunts softly, and Olivia makes a muffled shout of joy. He fills her so completely that I can feel it from where I sit, with my ass going numb and the lushness of Olivia's hair on the insides of my thighs.

She makes long, vertical swipes with her tongue that extend until she's in my taint and grazing my butthole. It feels weird at first - ticklish, almost. But once it starts I don't want it to stop. I want her to spit-shine every bit of me down there. I want her to bathe me like a mother cat. I feel her finger slide into me, and I know how soaked I am by how easily her middle finger enters me, then her pointer finger, thrusting in and out of me at the same pace that Gus is fucking her. I grab a fistful of Olivia's hair and cry out again, the same sort of nonsense as before:

"Ohhhhhhh FUCK yesOliviayou BITCH you'regonnamakeme CUM, I'mgonnafucking CUM likeafucking WHORE, FUCK! Eatmelikeahungry SLUT yesyes OH!youlil SLUT!"

I had, to put it mildly, officially lost my cool.

But I wasn't the only one. Between gasps for air, Olivia is panting like a dog, and when her green eyes meet mine, I can see them gleaming, all whacked-out. Her eyes keep rolling back and the goofy grin becomes a look of profound rapture before she goes back to eating me out, her ass cheeks spasming and her feet twitching up by Gus's armpits. He's hammering into her now, having settled the issue of his footing, and he's pulling her waist up into him as he thrusts. The sound her wet pussy makes as he plumbs its depth, the slap of his waist against her thick white thighs, makes me feel even hotter. I scoot myself forward to press Olivia further between my spread legs. We're playing her like an accordion, I realized, and Olivia is loving every second of it.

Now Olivia looks up with red marks on her face from being pressed between my thighs, and she heaves out the words:

"In m-my ass!"

The giggle that had been building in my chest bursts to the surface. Gus slows his rhythm but continues to pile-drive, and it's only with visible effort that Olivia can lift her head and say again:

"Put it i-in my ass, Gus! I want you to fuck my a-ASS!"

Gus and I meet eyes. I can't describe the look he gave me, and I'll never be able to. But for some reason, in the moment, it says everything I need to hear.

Thinking fast, I spring up into a wobbly standing position and, feeling more naked that I've ever felt before, rush into my bedroom and throw open my top dresser drawer. I pass over the condoms - that ship had sailed - and grab an opened tube of lubricant that I'd bought at the pharmacy on a whim. When I rush back out, I can see just how ridiculous the entire scene is, and I almost burst out laughing again: Gus is standing on one leg with one knee planted in the couch, angling himself forward to fuck Olivia, who is propped up with her elbows on the floor. Her back is arched and her ass cheeks are spread. Gus is looking between the round white orbs as though considering his next move.