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My first sexual anything went down in a threesome, and yes, I am well aware of the masturbatory power of drunken teenage lesbian threeways. But it wasn't really like that.

It was like this: I was a few months into being the awkward new kid in a town where spray tans and obscene wealth were the norm. My inability to surf was surpassed only by my inability to fill a push-up bra. Cara was new, too, and due to some superficial similarities and a miracle of freshman-year scheduling, we were instant besties. She was really tall, like me — a yeti — and people often mistook us for sisters or a couple. I didn't know Jane very well; she was an old friend of Cara's who, at barely five-feet tall and maybe ninety pounds, had the look of being too delicate to touch. Short, beautiful girls have always scared the shit out of me.

We're fourteen. I'm several margaritas deep, nestled in the corner of Cara's bunk bed. The three of us are sprawled across one another, Jane with one hand on my thigh, the other on Cara's breast. "You guys are so hot," Jane says. Over and over, she says it. No one has ever called me hot before. Sexual histories are revealed, and I lie and tell them I've kissed girls before because I'm worried that not having ever kissed anybody makes me more of a dyke than I might actually be.

Jane looks at me, then at Cara, and says very firmly that she thinks we should probably kiss. So we do. Jane is watching, approving, alternately reaching down my pants and her own. This is followed by an earnest discussion of who should go down on Cara, during which we debate the relative merits of this person's tongue and that person's fingers. In the end, Jane goes down on Cara while I kiss her ears and neck. It was an awkward morning-after — "Oh man, I don't even remember last night . . . " — and we never mentioned it again.

Since that night, however, threesomes have defined my sex life. I'm now twenty-three, and I've been propositioned for far more threesomes than I've ever been asked on ordinary dates. I don't know exactly how many; suffice it to say, we're well into double digits here. For reasons I can't fully explain, I, of the gangly posture and the socially awkward tendencies, am seen by many couples as the official go-to third.

In the beginning, many of these threeways simply felt like the natural product of a horny environment. One summer, I lived in a communal house.
For reasons I can't fully explain, I'm seen by many couples as the official go-to third.
Every night there was a bonfire in the yard, cases of Charles Shaw and dozens of young, sun-drenched youths declaring how this was perfect, we were all so perfect. And we were correct: it was, and we were. One of my housemates was Brian, aggressive, with an annoying, endearing habit of using his Eastern Bloc accent to manipulate. Aimee was from my part of Los Angeles, a world-traveled Cali girl who shared my pretensions. She and Brian had an open relationship, and I'd been smooching him on the regular — it was a cooperative, after all. Sharing was a part of the deal. One night in the kitchen, Aimee had her arms wrapped around my neck, swaying dreamily to the Czech-gypsy rap on the stereo. She started nuzzling my neck, and Brian slid his arms around us both. There was no conversation about should we, or how, or what it would mean. It just happened, first on the kitchen floor, then in my room. In the morning we got up, made breakfast and went to work. Aimee and I still joke about it, how Brian was the luckiest dude we know, and what a shame he doesn't remember half of it.

As the years passed, such propositions kept landing on my doorstep. I didn't mind at all. In fact, I came to realize I was more attracted to couples than I was to individuals. I might not remember some of these people at all had I hooked up with them one-on-one. But as a pair, I would fall in love with their familiarity; their affection for each other got me off. The most recent couple I fell for, James and Noël, were rock stars, straight up. They were reckless drunks, bursting with manic energy as bright and chaotic as their tattooed sleeves. After five minutes with them, it was clear: they were it for each other — and I was smitten. I found myself flirting shamelessly with both of them, slyly working to command their collective attention and approval. When they briefly broke up, I was crushed, unable to muster any interest in their lives. When they finally got back together, I felt like I'd gotten something back, too. Maybe this is why I'm asked into so many threesomes. Maybe I'm subconsciously signaling these couples, guiding them toward me like an air-traffic beacon. I look at them and see a comfortable little nook to cozy up in, where the awkward beginnings have already been sorted and shelved.

        

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13 Comments

really delightful ... nicely done.

ted commented on 04/21

Great article... but maybe poly is the way to go. Some people aren't built for monogamy, and being the unicorn in a threesome isn't the only way to hook up with more than one person...

snm commented on 04/21

good work, c-mac

om commented on 04/21

Ditto on the more 3's than dates. I like being the go-to girl for a variety of things; it makes me feel worldly when someone asks me if I know anyone who can obtain fake passports or if I can find anyone to tie them up and beat them with a hairbrush. I love the intimacy of couples but feel like I lack the honesty necessary for coupling, never mind monogamy. So 3's are awesome. But afterwards when they are going through their usual post-climactic routines that don't have a ready niche for me it can be a bit lonely.

Thea commented on 04/22

can you do this sober? if so, where's the problem? very few people can handle a situation this complex. you can. take joy in it. explore your strengths.

dwp commented on 04/25

really interesting article..

ja commented on 04/25

I think you were on to something when you talked about being sort of a "beacon" for threesomes. Any time people talk about a theme in how people treat them, I always look at body language cues. Perhaps you adopt a more "open" posture when talking to couples. Or maybe you just appear more "closed" when talking to single guys (or girls). Other people pick up on this stuff without even realizing it. My guess is that if what you truly want is a threesome and not a one-on-one, you are going to signal this whether you want to or not.

asdf commented on 05/06

While I can't really relate to the article, I really enjoyed your writing. I think "...I'll be a one-time antidote to this particular couple's sexual ennui: I push from the bumper while they pop the clutch." was especially good.

mp commented on 05/08

hey y'all, i just wanted to thank everyone for the feedback - it's not always easy to pry open your sex life for strangers, but i'm glad to know some folks out in the ether have gotten something out of it. besitos, caitlin

cmac commented on 05/12

I can both relate to the attraction of the threeway and the social awkwardness of presenting it to friends and family. The act itself is a wonderful moment that I'm not inclined to discuss with anyone who isn't part of the act. I'm sure my parents really don't want to hear about my 'deviant' behavior and my SO blasphemous actions. As part of an established couple I am repeatedly pleasantly surprised when our single female friends come to us. The girl talk, apparently, is that we are better as a couple (emotionally and physically) than the single men and women they date. I find that the women that join us do put out a more welcoming energy to us as a couple than they do to singles. Our attitude is one of openness. We don't advertise in any way to anyone blatantly, but we are definitely receptive both as individuals and as a couple. We would gladly form a triad or closed circle if we found the right fit, but it is all about the energy that three people add.

rb commented on 06/26

An open sexuality --one you are proud of, not shame-ridden about-- is a wonderful, and rare, thing. Your statement: "The propositions have begun to change" struck a chord with me, and I know exactly what you mean. Unfortunately, many of those whom claim to be open to a threesome are actually inhibited in other ways; they fear attachment (or feelings of any sort, other than what they have been conditioned to believe are perverse). It was not always this way. The threesome of today was the ménage ā trois of yesterday. Few people understand that in days gone by, the ménage ā trois was not only an activity of passion, of uninhibited shared pleasure, but also a situation where there was no "third wheel". It would have been unheard of to expect someone to join a couple in order to "push from the bumper while they pop the clutch." There were women whose profession included this job description, and many adored and celebrated that job, but this was not what the original ménage ā trois was; it three people who were truly connected to the pleasures of the others, as well as their own. It often involved a living arrangement which allowed for the security and comfort which many couples share today, as well as allowing for the convenient (and often, though not always, erotic) sharing which occurred within the bedroom as well. Yet this is not how it is today. Sadly, our society no longer looks at a threesome as something which free, self-confident, sensual individuals partake in, secure in their own relationships with others involved, made possible due to the ability to trust and share a very personal, very deep part of their being. Instead, it is something to be shamefully hinted at, perhaps indulged in after copious amounts of alcohol have removed the insecurities of all involved, and often end up in broken friendships/relationships and morning-after regrets, rather than waking up with a smile to greet the sun together, close and comfortable and happy. My husband and I ran into this time and time again several years ago, when we finally realised that our conversations and personal convictions pertaining to polygamy were not subject to the ideals and judgments of others; it was OUR marriage, nearly a decade strong, and having married very young and remained happily married in a secure (and yes, still sexually charged) marriage, we had already proven what the estimations of others' judgments amounted to. Upon beginning our search for a woman to bring into the marriage (my husband is straight, but I was not when we met; he was the first --and to this day, the only-- man who aroused me in any way), we were met with a baffling response from women who had expressed interest in us, as a couple, in previous years. They were quiet, almost conspiratorial, and balked at the idea that after sharing our passions we might share a movie or a warm blanket on a cold night. In other words, they expected (and, I think, preferred) to keep things as anonymous and impersonal as possible. It became a problem that my husband and I do not drink, other than at the rare family gathering where we would insult the host(ess) if we turn down a toast or a glass of wine from a saved and precious bottle. It is not that we have anything against drinking, religiously or health-wise, we have merely never found a reason to do so. Yet the few times we found a woman who was not immediately scared off by the idea of truly being a part --an important, valued, and adored part-- of our relationship, they would insist upon rather large amounts of alcohol in order to "prepare" themselves. Those situations never came to fruition; it made us feel as though they were prepping for an unpleasant surgical procedure, rather than something exultant, something special. My husband and I had found something that was beautiful; we realised we were free in our sensuality and found delight in the pleasure --both physical and emotional-- which life, in and of itself, gave us. We wished to share that, and the women we spoke to wanted something very different, something that needed to be whispered about in dark places and with shame in their eyes. My husband and I do not deal with life in terms of shame and whispers. Needless to say, our search ended up being pointless. I admire you not for having the courage to speak about who you are and what brings you pleasure; anyone can speak (or write) what they desire, in the bedroom and in life. I admire and praise you for being unafraid to seek it out. Do not ever let that go; the world today often shuns those who are secure in who they are, and in what they desire in life (be it work or play), expecting us to share their shame and self-derision. But it is those of us who are unafraid of ourselves, unafraid to truly LIVE (refusing to settle for merely existing), those of us who know who and where we want to be and will not settle for less, that are truly happy.

EPH commented on 10/07

My apologies; I had not realised that paragraphs were not formatted automatically, thus my well-structured, multiple-paragraph comment became what you see above. This is aggravating for me, so I wanted to point out that I did not do it on purpose. I assure anyone who may have taken one look at my comment and wanted to close their eyes in order to protect from the visual assault of improper structure and endless words, that huge, long comments written as one solid smörgåsbord of text irritates me endlessly as well.

EPH commented on 10/07

Caitlin, :) It was a real pleasure reading about your personal experiences with fmf threesomes. Have you ever had any mfm experiences? Also, could you please share some facial photos so that I can see who this tremendous writer is? E-mail: [email protected] Peace and love, always GM~

GM commented on 11/29
 

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