The first time I had sex with my fiance was during the very worst threesome of my life. I awoke the morning after sore and bruised, with my contact lenses still in my eyes. The bedroom looked like a bomb had gone off inside it, my ass smelled like whiskey, and everyone was mad at each other for a million reasons that hadn't seemed so clear through all the alcohol the night before.
But threesomes can and should be awesome. More mouths, more hands, and more orgasms — what's not to love? The minute I figured out that I liked men and women, I began my quest for what I believed to be the Holy Grail of sexual encounters. Because I was bisexual and not particularly interested in monogamy, I thought perhaps I was some kind of threesome-sexual. Over the years, I've seen the good, the bad, and the ugly of threesomes in my personal and professional lives: I've been the fun-loving bisexual unicorn to an established couple, I've been the supportive girlfriend who facilitates a two-girl fantasy for my partner, and I've been one of three slutty friends having a great time together on a Friday night.
I love threesomes, but like many people, my first attempts were clumsy, liquor-soaked romps that were often swiftly followed by regret and embarrassment. Threesomes are hard to navigate even in the most ideal of circumstances, but when you add booze and big emotions, things can go south quickly.
For most of us, threesome knowledge comes primarily from lore perpetuated by porn and reality television, which only sets us up for failure by setting our expectations sky high and our savvy at rock bottom.
But having a successful threesome is not a talking point during most people's formal sex education. The birds and the bees lecture rarely covers things like positions for successful double penetration or how to talk a partner down from a jealous rage post-orgasm, so I've had to learn through trial and error.
I've found that the chances of having a good experience increase with planning and communication. Though I've had my share of threesome woes, I've mostly been involved in threesomes that bring couples closer together, strengthen the bonds of friendship, and result in some of the hottest memories of my adult life.
One of my most successful ménage a trois was with a guy I'd been dating and his long-distance girlfriend who was in town for the holidays. She lived in New York, so we planned the date for months via email and Gchat. By the time we all finally got together, we were pretty ahead of the game: Everybody knew what was off-limits and everybody had a rough idea of how to get each other off. I had them over for dinner — I made an elaborate cheese plate, picked out a special red wine, and played Ella Fitzgerald on my record player. It was awkward at first, but once we got into my bedroom, all the nerves faded away and I got to be in the middle of a hot couple who loved each other while they did filthy things to me. I was the guest star who held the vibrator, made sure there was enough lube, and guided my date's cock into his girlfriend. It was amazing. Nobody cried, nobody broke up, and years later, we are all still friends.
Unfortunately, there are no strict rules for threesomes, as every person and encounter is unique. But there are endless guidelines that I wish someone had clued me in on when I first began my quest.
Threesomes are hot, but they don't have to feel like playing with fire. With just a little bit of forethought they can be awesome for all parties involved — and no one has to fight the next morning during brunch.
And if we're being honest, threesomes are kind of like pizza — even when it's bad, it's pretty darn good. During my worst threesome, I met the man of my dreams, so I firmly believe they are well worth all the trouble. Conquering the threesome can initially feel daunting, but I've learned that, like any quest, anything is possible with a noble heart and the right sidekicks.