sex

'I shared my partner with another woman. When it was over, I broke down.'

It wasn’t my first threesome, but it was the first time with someone I loved. And that made all the difference.

A threesome between my boyfriend, myself, and another woman was something I had personally fantasised about for a long time. I enjoyed watching threesome porn on my own, and when we went to strip clubs, it turned me on to see my boyfriend get lap dances.

The idea of another woman was casually mentioned between us, and then the idea stuck with us. We started dirty talking to each other about what we would do with another woman. We started watching porn together that fit our fantasy. My boyfriend and I discovered how much we wanted to invite another woman into our bed.

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One of the great things about our relationship is how open we’ve always been about our sex life. Our history, our fetishes, our porn habits, things we’d like to try, etc. We were never embarrassed to ask the other, “Hey, I want to try this. What do you think?”

Although I had never dated a woman before, I definitely had my share of drunken hook-ups with girls in uni. They’d start off innocently enough, my roommate and I made out for attention. But we’d end up sneaking off into each other’s bedrooms and actually having sex.

More often than not, we’d end up having a threesome with the cute guy who lived in our building.

My uni threesome nights always involved lots of alcohol and loud music, but they were always fun, unplanned, and casual. No one was dating anyone; there were no feelings involved.

I can’t recall ever having a bad casual threesome. But my boyfriend and I knew, if we actually did this, it would not be like those nights I shared with my uni roommate.

Bringing another woman home to share my boyfriend of three years with would not be casual at all. If handled poorly, it could end terribly. But if handled with care, it could be an incredible night.

One night, we were out at a strip club, and we met her.

She was funny, hot, and most importantly, we really got along with her. She gave both of us lap dances while we bonded over our love for whiskey.

My boyfriend and I wondered if she was the girl we were looking for, so we asked her out to dinner to see how we’d get along outside of the club.

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She was thrilled, and we exchanged numbers.

The idea behind getting to know her outside of the club was logical.

We wanted to make sure we weren’t inviting a crazy person home with us. We wanted to see how she handled her liquor, and how she carried herself outside of the club. We wanted to know her on a different level.

But it makes perfect sense to me now, why couples who regularly have threesomes, say they’ll only do it when they know they’ll never see that person again.

Sometimes, they don’t even exchange real names, and if possible, they don’t exchange numbers.

They stay completely anonymous, and they keep the lines very clear.

“We are doing this, but we will never see each other again.”

That’s not the way we handled it.

We took our new friend out for dinner a few nights after meeting her, and we approached the situation exactly like that; like we were friends.

We asked her about her childhood, and we learned her parents were happily married for 23 years. She told us how she was saving up for school. She shared how she sang and played the guitar in her free time. She was kind, funny, and down-to-earth, and we were happy to know her.

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After dinner, we started a group text between the three of us, and we planned another dinner date for that week. We figured if the next date went well, we’d invite her home.

We got to know each other better over the next few days through text.

But what I couldn’t see is the more we communicated with her, the more we were transforming her role from a fantasy girl to part of our reality.

Lines were being blurred.

She was no longer this fictitious character in my sexual fantasy. She was now a real woman from a small town with two younger siblings. She had a dog named Lucy. She wanted to come with us to the movies the following weekend because she loved Quentin Tarantino.

She was now very real.

The confident statement I repeated to myself, “No random girl could ever come between my boyfriend and I” was no longer valid. This new girl was not random, and she was not a fantasy anymore. She was a kind, beautiful, funny, and very real young woman.

Feelings of insecurity I never knew I was capable of began to flood my mind, and everything changed.

As the days crept by, closer and closer to our date night, I found myself annoyed by comments she made in our group text or just wishing she’d cancel altogether. Someone I had been happy to hear from just a few days ago was now causing me distress, and I was confused as to why.

I was finding myself jealous of this person I had invited into my life.

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But I kept pushing my feelings aside, confused as to why I was feeling them in the first place when I claimed to be such a secure and confident woman.

The day came when I could no longer deny the fact that I was becoming disinterested in the threesome altogether. I brought it all up to my boyfriend, and he was completely understanding.

My boyfriend assured me this wasn’t a testament to our relationship.

He assured me it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for someone to feel uneasy about another woman laughing at all of his jokes, or flirting with him through text. I wasn’t feeling anything that was crazy or unheard of.

He said, “We can cancel on her and never see her again. You know that, right? We don’t have to do this and in fact, if you’re not feeling 100 percent about it, I think it’s best if we don’t do it. You have to be honest with me.”

He asked me for complete honesty, and I screwed up.

I fought my feelings. I said I still wanted to do it. I was trying to convince myself to be cool, carefree, and just try it.

Isn’t this what I had been fantasising about for all these years? Well, that was true, but I wasn’t ready for the aftermath. I wanted the fantasy, but I couldn’t handle the real thing.

The night of our dinner arrived.

My boyfriend again asked me if I was still interested in having dinner with her and I again tried to convince him, and me, that I was. But every second we spent with her, I found myself struggling to be nice to her.

When dinner wrapped up, and I realised she was coming home with us, I continued to fight my jealousy. I wanted to convince myself I wasn’t “that” girl who would feel threatened. “That girl” was weak and insecure in my mind.

The threesome happened. A million thoughts raced through my mind as it was happening. But I kept my cool and did my best to enjoy myself.

And then, it was over. She went home, and I broke down.

My boyfriend felt extremely guilty, questioning over and over if we had just made a big mistake. But it wasn’t him that made a mistake, it was me.

I learned more about my personal preferences boundaries in this experience than anything I’ve ever lived through. And I don’t regret any of it, because, without this night, I might still believe I’m that tough as bricks girl who won’t ever feel threatened by someone else, which is not true.

I know I’m not invincible. None of us are. We all have real feelings that get hurt and threatened, and that only makes us human.

The author of this post is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons. A stock image has been used. 


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