What they don’t tell you about a threesome [Part 3] [FMF]

*Part 3 is the story told by the M in this threesome.*

It was a situationship. I’ve been there before. But I’m in my 30s now. Older, wiser, smarter! I know how to solve this. Go on, T. Make your 20-something self quiver at your 30-something self’s maturity. Go off, king!

But V is a hard person to force things with. She’s tall and slender with black hair that rolls down her back in loose waves. She insists that it’s very dark brown, but you have to squint sideways in just the right light to see what she’s talking about, and even then it’s a stretch. But it doesn’t matter. Her hair is brown, and she won’t back down.

She has pudgy little earlobes and a pretty face. Her eyebrows and hair bounce between immaculately refined and wild & untamed. She is amazing, raw, open, and pure, unlike anyone I’ve ever met.

By month three, I know I want to be with her. But she just ended a nearly decade long relationship two months before I met her. I was her first date since, and I’m not sure she’s ready to be with anyone yet.

So I give her space. Until I can’t hold back anymore. It’s been 6 months, and I want to know whether she thinks our relationship has as much potential as I do.

So, isn’t it a kicker that after all my years of commitment issues, V says she can’t commit.

We’re on the roof of my building. It’s dusk, and this year the vines are finally going to reach the top of the pergola. I can just feel it. Neighbors are having a dinner party nearby, and their chatter mixes with the sounds of the streets below.

V pauses and looks down. “I want to keep seeing you.” She sounds earnest, and a little pained. “I think this has potential, too. I just can’t get into another relationship right now.”

My instinct is to look away, but I fight it and keep my eyes on her. “So, what does that mean for us?”

“Well…” She’s still searching for something on the ground. “I don’t think it’s fair to keep you waiting while I figure my shit out. So…why don’t you keep on dating?”

Holy shit.

“We’ll keep seeing each other, and we’ll keep dating.”

She means we’ll both keep dating other people. Red flags are everywhere. Is she letting me down softly? That doesn’t seem like her. I think if she didn’t want to see me, she’d tell me. Maybe I just…need to take her at face value?

And c’mon. Why not continue an emotional relationship with V while sleeping with other people? Let’s raise the stakes: double or nothing.

–

I meet a few new faces in this brave new world, but A is the one I end up seeing most frequently. She’s cute and petite with a small chest and a nice round ass. She’s sexy. Her Bumble profile shows that her hair has gone through some transformations recently – from shoulder-length locks to a buzzed fuzz top. When she shows up to our date, it’s in kind of a mullet. And it works.

We’re at a dark, scene-y bar that would be full of young professionals pretending they’re still in college if it weren’t for the pandemic. About 20 minutes in, she’s letting me put my hand on her leg every now & then and laughing at my jokes. When she comes back from the bathroom, she pulls her stool a little closer to mine.

Back at my place, she melts into my arms, and I know that she likes to be taken.

–

Believe it or not, starting a sexual relationship with someone else hasn’t hurt my relationship with V. Except maybe in one way. We’re growing closer, but the sex has gotten very confusing.

We’re attracted to each other, and I just know we both want the same kind of sex. A little rough, a little dominant, a little kinky. But there’s something blocking us. There’s something about our dynamic that’s making the personal connection intuitive, but the sexual chemistry flounder. It’s not the combination you want.

But we can’t break things off.

I’m worrying about our relationship. Things feel more real, but it’s been almost a year, and we’re still not seeing each other much more than once a week. Sometimes not even that. And when we do, she seems to be focused on the sex. She’ll initiate at the first opportunity. And I’ll follow her lead. But I find myself thinking, ‘Hold on. I want a girlfriend, not a friend with benefits. Where’s the talking about each other’s day? Where’s the cuddling in bed and reading? Where’s the cute shit that helps us grow closer together?’

I find myself wondering whether this is just sex for her. And then whether having this relationship with A really is ok. And then whether and what V’s doing without me. And then whether I’m going to fall into the trap of valuing sex over connection as I have for most of my adult life. I love spending time with V, but every time we start to have sex, I can’t keep from wondering, ‘Is that all there is here?’ I try to push those thoughts away and do my job, but sometimes it’s hard. In fact, sometimes I can’t get hard. Sometimes I can, but my mind is elsewhere.

I’ll learn later on that sexual dysfunction is like the Babadook: you can’t make it go away by pretending it doesn’t exist. You have to talk about it.

But that realization is a long way away, and right now all we know is that our sex has a problem and we’re not really talking about it.

–

It’s a few weeks before Christmas, and V & I are out shopping.

We’ve been kicking around the idea of a threesome with another woman and who it would be with. While we’re in a bougie crystal shop, a thought strikes me: what about A?

It’s an insane idea, I know, and I probably shouldn’t even consider it. But A is into women, and she & I have already had a threesome. On top of that, I have this suspicion that A and V would kind of just…get along.

“So, who was your threesome with?” V asks as we walk past families and other couples out shopping.

“Well…” There’s no getting around this. And maybe it’s finally time to bring it up?

“It was with this other girl I was seeing.” I glance toward V to check her reaction.

*Um, yes, excuse me? Crystal shop clerk? We’ll take 6 ounces of black tourmaline, please. Stat.*

V seems intrigued, but I can tell she isn’t sure if she should be feeling anything else, too. We might need that tourmaline.

“Really?” she asks. She walks behind me to look at a particularly round, expensive geode. “How did that happen?”

“Well, we started talking about it, and she had a friend she thought might be interested. We all went out to dinner, hit it off, went back to her friend’s place, and fucked.” I eye V nervously.

*Excuse me? Miss? The tourmaline, please?*

“And how was it?” V asks and casually grapevines back to join me examining a slate-red shard of rock on the window display’s central pedestal.

I tell her about how we went to her friend’s to “hang out” and I could feel the tension building between A and her friend. We sat on the couch to “watch Netflix”, and they started moving toward each other, testing the waters. It wasn’t long until her friend made a move. They went down on each other, and I watched. I wasn’t needed, and that was fine with me. I knew it would come. And, moreover, I knew it might not come if I insisted on being involved.

I tell her how when A went to the bathroom, her friend kind of remembered I was there, and her look went from innocent to hungry. I think she was more used to sex with a man and was eager to slot into something familiar for a second. That got me involved, and the rest is history.

“What was your favorite part?” V asks.

“Well, the next morning, A and I woke up in her friend’s bed…and she wasn’t there. So A and I fucked. Then her friend came in, explained not at all unhappily that she slept on the couch because she needed some space, and jumped back into bed with us. Having her friend appear got me going again. So I put her hips right over A’s – one pussy right above the other – and with their hips overlapping and their shoulders off to each side, they kind of make a heart.”

“As I’m fucking her friend,” I continue, “A turned and grabbed her face. She put their faces right together and asked her, ‘Is that what you wanted? You wanted to get fucked, just like I did? You wanted to get what I just got?’ Her friend was so turned on that when she tried to respond, her words just came out as moans.”

“Fuck,” V says. There isn’t much that stops her in her tracks. But that did. “That’s hot.”

We look at each other, first with our eyes, then our heads turn fully. We can see the gears turning.

Should we see…if she’s interested?

–

V’s getting dressed, and she tells me that she’s nervous.

She’s at her place, sending me pics of what she’s going to wear. “What do you think she’ll be wearing?” I tell her she shouldn’t overthink it.

you’re hot no matter what- I text back.

She sends a heart.

V and I get to the spot for this triple date around the same time. It’s a stylish, modern hotel that used to be a church. The marble floor, dark wood, and low lighting feel refined and inviting.

I’m excited to see A again. I’ve thought about her, and it’ll honestly be nice to catch up.

I spot her walking toward our table from the back of the restaurant. She must have gotten turned around or missed us on her first pass.

“There she is,” I tell V. I can’t read much from her expression as she gets her first glimpse, but, then again, A is completely bundled up. It is January, after all. V seems pleased when A takes her layers off. For me, it’s nice to see her again.

I carry the conversation at first, but I pepper in tidbits that I hope will get the girls talking.

“No, A, my old anti-vax renter finally moved out.

“V’s an attorney – actually, A, she just made partner!”

“No, A, I still haven’t gotten a dog. V – you’ll love this – A has a dog that looks just like Falcor from The Neverending Story!”

By the entrees, the conversation’s flowing, and we’re debating what V and A would have been like if they’d been born men.

V says, “T, you know us better than we know each other. What do you think we’d be like?”

“That’s easy. A would be a cute nerd who likes sex and gets frustrated when people don’t like her ideas. And V, you’d be a bro.”

“A bro?” She feigns indignation.

“Yeah,” A says. “I mean, I don’t know you that well, but I can see it.”

“A bro?? Come on, guys!”

We all laugh, and they serve our third round of drinks. I think this is going to be good.

–

Back at my place I’m sandwiched between them, not too tightly yet, on my couch while we look at a new book on the art history of tarot cards and have another round.

My hand is on A’s thigh, right near the crook of her hip. I put the book down and put my other arm around V.

Our heads turn, our lips part, our eyes close, and we kiss. It’s deep and comforting, and we let it linger.

When we pull back, I turn toward A, then back to V. My hand has been on A’s thigh the whole time.

“Can I kiss her?” I ask V.

She looks excited and a little shy. “Yes.”

I turn toward A. It’s nice to kiss her again.

Then, I pull back and get out of the way.

Leaving an empty space between them is enough. They lean toward each other and start to explore.

First, V braces herself by putting a hand on me and her other on A’s cheek. It’s reassuring and tender. She pulls A close and their faces press together. Then, there’s a kiss. V’s pulling A in with both hands now. It’s like witnessing her first kiss and, in a way, it is.

A’s hands go to V’s body. Clothes start to come off, and I get up to pour myself some whiskey. I know I’m not needed.

It doesn’t take long before they’re on the thick wool carpet on the living room floor.

V’s on top, pulling A into her deeply and passionately.

A lets out these little yelps that are moans and gasps and cries rolled into one. It’s like she’s holding her breath and then remembers to breathe for just a second, and in that second all the sound she’s been holding back comes out at once. Sometimes they’re deep and desperate. Other times, they’re delighted shock at what’s happening and how much she enjoys it.

V turns to find me. “This is what it’s like to hook up with a woman?” She asks as if it’s a secret that I, personally, have been hiding from her. “This is what you get to do all the time?” She laughs and turns to A. I know it’s just her and A right now. She’s experiencing something special, and I can wait until I’m invited in.

–

“Eating pussy is amazing,” V says from my bed, looking up from A’s legs. I mean, what would it be like, I think to myself, to lick one and have one – to feel the same things happening to yours that you can taste and feel and see happening to hers?

A cranes her head back and finds me standing against the window. “Hey. What are you doing over there?” She turns back toward V. “Should we bring him in?”

“Yeah, I think we should.”

I put down my drink, walk over to the bed, and end up standing right over them. They stare up at me and start rubbing my cock over my pants. Strangely it doesn’t get hard, but I let them keep playing with it.

A pulls me onto the bed. She wants my cock, and there’s no escaping. So I take my pants off, even though I’m still completely soft. But A hasn’t had this cock in months. And I think she misses it. She puts it in her mouth and licks, sucks, strokes, and teases. She looks so hot and it feels so good, but I just can’t get hard.

“V?” I say. “Can you come up here and help A?”

V likes sucking my cock, too, and I think she was surprised to find me soft. But she doesn’t question it. She does exactly what A did. And like magic, my cock starts to get hard. Everything A was doing was perfect. I just think I needed permission from V to get hard.

I hope she understands what just happened. I hope she’s turned on that it took her, too, to get me going.

–

After we’ve fucked for a while, I find myself standing over them again. They’re facing up and sucking and licking me. Seeing them like that is too much, and I use their spit to make myself cum all over their faces. “Ok, girls,” I say while I watch them lick each other’s faces clean. “You have to share.”

–

Later that night, I’m fucking A while V watches.

“Yessss. Fill me up. Give me that nice, big cock!” There’s something so sexy about A’s cute look & her sweet, caring self turning into this cock-hungry slut.

V is transfixed. Curious, loving, turned on, and relieved. She’s seeing something here. This threesome has always been about more than just fun. Our relationship has gotten stronger, and the sexual dysfunction is healing. But remnants linger. I’m less worried and more present during sex. But I haven’t been able to fully let go.

I slow my strokes in and out of A, and I make her look at me. “I think V needs some.”

“Yeah.” She catches her breath. “I think she does, too.”

So I slip out of A and put V on all fours. She’s wild by the fact that she’s being fucked immediately after A. And I pour myself into her.

“Do you like that?” I ask V. I turn to A. “I think she likes that.”

“I think she likes it, too.” A grabs her and starts guiding her back and forth on me. She slaps V’s ass, gets down by her face, and starts telling her how good she looks taking my cock.

And I can feel something unlock. All the blockers that have kept V and me from having the hot, sweaty, unbridled sex we want, they melt. V is getting FUCKED. And I’m the one doing it. And in between moans, she’s smiling. Beaming. And I know it’s not just the sex. It’s because she’s feeling the same thing that I am. She’s starting to believe that this part of our relationship, and maybe the whole thing, is finally falling into place.

–

The next morning is nice. There’s something very comforting about sleeping together in one big puppy pile. Something feels instinctively right about it. It’s the first time I’ve slept together – literally slept together – with more than one person. It turns out sleeping together in one big bed feels really nice.

When I wake up, I get another urge that feels primal. I need to cum inside A. ‘Where is that coming from?’ I wonder. I got more than my fill of sex last night, but I only came inside V.

My stirring wakes the girls up. I’m in the middle, which I really enjoy. It lets me put one hand around each of them, and feeling both their bodies is a joy. V’s is long and voluptuous. A’s is petite and curved. Both are soft and warm. My hands wander down to squeeze them and ask permission to go further. They’re sleepy but awake, and they both turn over onto their backs, offering themselves. They’re already very wet.

I start playing with them, and hearing their moans and gasps turns us all on. After a few minutes, I turn to V. “Can I fuck her?” When I finally pulse and release inside A, things feel complete.

–

V is the first one to leave. She has to go to work. It’s a Wednesday morning, and if there’s a next time, we all agree it’s not going to be on a Tuesday. I walk her to the door, and we kiss goodbye. It’s deep and passionate, and she feels closer than ever. When A’s Uber comes, I walk her to the door and give her a kiss, too. I close the door and walk back into my apartment, and it feels a little lonely in here now. But it’s Wednesday morning, and the emails are already coming in. Time for some coffee, and – oh. A shower’s probably not a bad idea, too.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/t1y9ce/what_they_dont_tell_you_about_a_threesome_part_3