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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.

        
 

10 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
 

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