Krystal and Angel hurried down 33rd Street towards Arch Street, excited yet fearful for what was about to come. They were by no means inexperienced in this realm, but they knew they were walking into uncharted territory. The glistening pink truck began to appear above the horizon. As it grew closer, it signaled the imminent loss of innocence they were destined to experience together.
Everyone remembers their first threesome. For some, it’s drunk post prom in the basement of the popular girl’s house with your crush and your crush’s crush. For others, it’s drunk post graffiti in the basement of Castle with two Europeans and one huge cultural barrier. Today was Krystal and Angel’s time. They may have been sober, but they were basically drunk off of the harmonic discord of the seven cheeses wafting away from the pink truck.
The anticipation had built up, both girls were almost sweating from excitement. They wanted to ease their way into the menage a trois, so they began with the classic seven cheese Mac dusted with parmesan panko crunch. This golden mound of perfection made them feel safe, even without protection. They knew there was more to cum, but every taste was mind–blowing. They couldn’t control themselves
Krystal: Fuck, Angel.
Angel: It’s so warm, comforting and soft inside me.
Krystal: I want that salty creaminess all over my face and in my mouth.
The first time couldn’t be more perfect. They felt no pain. No regrets. Just love. After licking up the remains of the first round, they were feeling more adventurous and both agreed they could go at least three more times.
Next up was Spinach Artichoke Mac with the familiar panko crusting that had led them to the promise land the first time through. It looked small at first, but it was a perfect fit. When it entered, their bodies felt warm and tingly.
Krystal: I want to call my mom and tell her.
Angel: *Starts singing* “I Just Had Mac” at the top of her lungs.
They closed their eyes the whole time, just allowing the third party to do its job. This creamy spinach chunky artichoke dip made them addicts. Krystal and Angel wiped each other’s mouths, cleaned themselves up and were thirsting for more before they knew it. They could last all night.
To spice things up, they made moves on Jalapeño Pesto next.
Krystal: Oh my god. I love a foreign mac.
Angel: It’s so spicy and hot—I can feel it running down my throat.
The girls mouths couldn’t quite fit it all in at once, and the three of them passionately fell onto the table together. But no Mac was spared. Krystal and Angel were quick to swallow every last “nood.” It was a hot mess. They may have finished fast, but it was still life–altering. The quickie awakened the final bit of untapped hunger.
Barbecue Chicken entered the scene to finish them off right. The female orgasm was being redefined. Mac Mart may not ask for your number, but they’d still never leave you unsatisfied.
Krystal: Mmmm I love meat.
Angel: I'm so full, but I’m dreaming of the next time.
This BBQ chick came at them fast and hard, but this wasn’t their first rodeo. The BBQ kept them safe, even though they were still out of their comfort zone. Both wondered how they had ever lived without it. They were Mac sluts and they were proud. Slut–shaming was officially a thing of their past.
Angel: I’m honestly so glad I waited for the right moment. This couldn’t have been more perfect.
Krystal: It didn’t even hurt. I’m happy we did it with something we loved.
Angel: I finished, did you?
Krystal: Yeah, three times.
Moral of the story: whether you like your panko bread crumbs on top or on bottom, there’s only one way to get your fix near campus, and it’s not in the 3rd floor VP bathrooms. There’s never been a more successful threesome in the history of mankind. Let us know if you need any advice (or even just the tip), we’re always willing to come to Mac Mart again.