So…Threesome?

In January of 2012, I was coming to terms with my sexual orientation. The process was more difficult than I had thought it would be. In truth, I didn’t even take my attraction to women seriously. I always brushed it off. It didn’t mean anything.

But the thoughts didn’t go away just because I brushed them off. It was becoming almost an obsession, to the point where if I was dating a man and things were going well, I’d have sinking thoughts like, “but what if it could be better with a woman?”

With the support of a friend, I explored my feelings, and they took me to a party hosted by one of their gay friends. I was entranced by the wide variety of women present. Butches, lipstick lesbians, and chicks who styled in the middle; a casual mix of feminine and masculine. I had an instant crush on one woman in particular, and in my heart, I knew.

But I had doubts. I didn’t trust myself. I thought, how do I know I’m actually attracted to women, if I’ve never been with a woman? The refrain echoed by many outside the community when someone comes out before they have any “experience.” I worried that I would come out, date my first woman, and be horribly embarrassed when I realized that I was only into boobs aesthetically, and not sexually. I had to know. I needed to reassure myself that my attraction to women was not just a phase.

I had talked about my concerns with a male poly friend of mine, whom I had dated briefly for a while (but polyamory had been a huge stumbling block for me). He offered himself and his main partner for an experiment. He pitched it as a service to me: I could explore his lady as I desired to either confirm or rule out my attraction to women, with the safety of a nearby penis if it proved to be the latter. A threesome.

It sounded like the perfect plan to me, embroiled in my own dilemma as I was. A casual, non-committal experience to test my sexual attraction to women, but with the familiarity of a previous male sexual partner involved. I agreed, and we set a date.

They came to my apartment. It was fairly relaxed; I was comfortable around my friend and his girlfriend, despite having never met the girlfriend before. We have lots of shared interests, and they’re both fun people.

Then she took her top off. We were just there, in a room together, and we were all going to have sex with each other. It was weird. I was very nervous. Finally, I think it was my friend who suggested we get started. They went to my bedroom, and I slowly followed behind.

They started on my bed, and I just stood off to the side, watching them awkwardly, feeling like a perv. They could see how nervous I was and didn’t pressure me to partake, but would look up at me every once in a while to wordlessly invite me to join. I didn’t.

But eventually, my friend seemed to realize I was never going to just jump in, and he instructed me to get naked and join them. I was so nervous that I actually left the room to undress and then came back in, overwhelmingly self-conscious. I was convinced I would somehow end up humiliating myself.

My friend had to talk me through every step, from coming away from the doorway to getting onto the bed. I was tense. I don’t remember what my specific fears were, but I hadn’t been so uncomfortable in a sexual situation since my very first time having sex. I very much confirmed my love of boobs. I didn’t interact with her beyond that, and I didn’t interact with my friend at all. He offered, but I passed on that “opportunity.”

But let’s be honest, it was super awkward. I felt vaguely bored at times. I don’t remember having an orgasm, though that wasn’t really the point for me. When we were done, they got dressed and I drove them home, glad the awkward sex part was over and we could go back to being friends again.

I had gotten the bare minimum of what I had wanted out of the experience. I knew, officially, that I was attracted to women, and that I found interacting sexually with a woman to be a turn-on. And I guess my friend and his girlfriend got what they wanted out of it, too: a threesome. But we obviously rated the experience much differently, since they dogged me for years afterwards about a repeat experience, while I never gave it any real consideration.

I wouldn’t say I regret that night. More that I look back on it with feelings of perplexity. No one had ever questioned my attraction to women except for me. That threesome was never about having a threesome for me, it was about exploring my desire for women. And now that I’ve explored it, I feel ridiculous for not trusting myself. Few heterosexuals doubt their attraction to the opposite sex before sleeping with them, so why did I hold myself to such a strictly higher standard?

I’ve done some online dating on Plenty of Fish. The number of women who were actually just looking for a third to have a threesome with them and their boyfriends was astonishing. Some would chat for a bit before revealing this minor caveat, but others had that info right in their profile.

“So…Threesome?”

Been there, done that. Thanks, but no thanks.


Author

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