Why a threesome was the worst sexual experience I’ve ever had

“I’m at my friend’s house. She thinks you’re cute. You should come over”.

I had to read that text a few times for the meaning behind it to sink in. I spent a few more minutes trying to formulate a reply that would be smooth and sexy. I ended up with “Yeah, sure thing”. Half an hour later I found myself in the middle of a threesome with two women I barely knew.

My friend Lachlan recently said I was the MVP of 2015. The deciding factor for his decision was that I had achieved something many people had only fantasised about. Apparently I deserve a trophy for it, as if I had just stormed the beaches of Normandy.

To be frank, my sex life has improved significantly since I moved from Camden to Marrickville. Not to mention that using Tinder makes meeting women who only want casual flings far easier than trying to strike up awkward conversation with a girl at a bar. Some I’ve dated for a few weeks, some have just been looking for someone to talk to. And then there are those who just want you for sex.

When I was younger I was quite apathetic when it came to sex. Not many girls liked me and to be honest I didn’t really like many of them either. It was something that stemmed from my own self-loathing and it probably warded off any possible suitors. After my ex broke up with me (almost two years ago which is hard to believe), she said that I’d have no problem meeting other girls. Since she had spent a fair amount of time lying to me I figured she was full of shit.

Turns out she was right, but probably not in the way she meant.

I’d had a fair amount of casual sex in the last year before the threesome. The girl in question, Kaylee, had been flirting with me on Tinder for a week before Christmas. On Boxing Day I came home from my parent’s house and she had messaged me again. Just more of the standard flirty small talk. I told her I just got home, while she said she was at a friend’s house.

threesome meme.jpg

Soon enough I found myself on the train heading towards Kings Cross. This wasn’t the first time I had gone to a girl’s house for sex without meeting her first. But a threesome? My brain had already melted at the thought that this was actually going happen. I’m decent enough when it comes to sex, but two girls at once seemed a little out of my league.

I found myself walking from the station to the house, nervous that two of my mates who lived two streets away would see me. I don’t know why I felt so ashamed, chances are if they knew where I was going they would’ve high-fived me. As I approached the door a terrifying thought crossed my mind. What if there were no girls waiting in this house, and instead it was some sketchy dude waiting to chloroform me then harvest my organs?

Fortunately, my organs are all where they should be. I was greeted by Kaylee who led me into the living room to meet her friend Lisa. They gave me a glass of wine and we chatted on the couch for a little while.

It was clear that this wasn’t the first time that these two had done this. They knew how to make me feel comfortable, when to talk, where to touch. My anxiety began to play up thinking about the logistics of having sex with two women at the same time. Things moved to the bedroom and clothes started falling to the floor.

I’m not going to go into detail of what transpired over the next hour, so use your imagination pervs.

Afterwards the three of us lay intwined amongst a mess of white sheets. It was a surreal moment, two pretty girls resting on each of my shoulders, both looking quite satisfied with themselves. As I lay there between them trying to make sense of what happened they began to chat. Not to me, but to each other. They soon began complaining about another woman they knew, Amanda, who was allegedly a total bitch.

I had no idea who this Amanda person was, but these two had some serious beef with her. I’m used to being ignored by people in social situations, but this was something else entirely. They were literally talking across me, bitching about this other girl. They didn’t bother to give me any context, I may as well have not been in the room.

The smack talk continued to the point where I swear my penis felt so intimidated it actually shuddered and shrivelled up to the size of a sultana.

Eventually I muttered something about going to see a friend in Bondi and had to leave. Which is a lie, Bondi is the worst place in Sydney and even if I had a friend there I wouldn’t visit them. Seriously, fuck Bondi and its whitewashed culture. But I digress.

As I sat up they both seemed startled. They actually forgot I was lying in between them. As I pulled my clothes on they kept bitching about this poor girl, and I left the house without any of us saying goodbye.

When I have mentioned this story to people the part they can’t get over is the fact I had a threesome. I met a friend’s new boyfriend for the first time a few weeks ago and he seemed to only know me as the ‘threesome guy’. I’m also a charming, considerate person who works in music journalism, but whatever, ‘threesome guy’ is a GREAT first impression.

I know what you’re thinking. “What’s the problem? You knew what you were getting into. You should be grateful for the opportunity.”

It’s that mentality that annoys me the most. Like this threesome was this majestic moment where the planets aligned, the clouds parted and the hand of God reached down from the heavens to caress my balls.

I’ve always struggled with issues of isolation and depression. I won’t lie, this last year of promiscuity has been nothing but an excuse to satisfy both my libido and my perpetual boredom with the world. Diving into bed with a random girl makes me feel better I guess.

But there’s nothing like having two people use you purely for sex, then refuse to acknowledge your presence afterwards to make you feel like nothing more than a tool. I may as well have been a man-shaped dildo.

“Don’t be such a pussy” I hear you say, but I don’t feel grateful for shit. I feel like a fucking fool every time I tell this story now, having to muster up this false sense of bravado like I should be proud of myself.

Would I have a threesome again? For now I’ll say no, at the very least not with two strangers in an attempt to fill my own void. That kind of thing just isn’t healthy. Was it fun when it happened? Yes, but the brain has a few tricks up it’s sleeve when it comes to chemicals and sex. Sure I enjoyed myself, but the second the reality of the situation dawned upon me in the aftermath; it was crushing.

 

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