My Threesome Flops

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My Threesome Flops

So… I read a little something today and not only do I feel the need to share it with you, I need to talk about it too. I read Exhibit A’s post on threesomes (click HERE for the full post) and to be honest, it pissed me off. Not his writing or the story he tells of course, that’s nothing short of a little erotic masterpiece. No, what pisses me off is the fact that everyone else seems to be having much better luck at this whole group sex thing than I am. To be frank, my experiences with threesomes and group sex have been total flops.

So I decided to tell you about them.

I don’t know what it is about threesomes but I never seem to get the situation quite right.  Everyone else’s tales always seem to have much better endings then mine. I’m tired of reading all these horny, happy, sexy stories of threesomes and group sex sessions going the right way and all I have are… well, shit experiences frankly.

My first ever group sex session was in a garden shed. True story. It was freshly built, brand new out the packaging, and The Fireman and I were dating, 18 years old or so.

My friend from high school, Miss. S, and her boyfriend at the time (and husband now if Facebook is anything to go by) Mr. R, had met up with me and my other half in the local haunt for youngsters. After drinking the night away, we decided to carry on the festivities at The Fireman’s house but as soon we got there, realised our mistake. His mother had friends over and the house was pretty much packed to the rafters. We left the house via the back door, planning on heading to either Miss. S’ house, or Mr. R’s, although both of their parents were home too.

It was on our way out through the back garden that The Fireman stopped us and motioned towards the brand new shed. It was large enough for the four of us to comfortably sit and drink the rest the night away, and there was plenty of room if we happened to pass out. A decent enough construction with no sign of spiders. Plus the smell of fresh wood is always nice. Cue a frantic scramble to the house for blankets, cushions and candles. Clearly we weren’t worried about the fire hazard.

After a little while of drinking Martini Asti to Elton John (don’t ask), things started to get a little steamier. The subject of sex came up and it wasn’t long before the conversation slid a certain kinda way…

I’m not sure we knew what we were getting into when our clothes started to drop to the floor.

Just like Exhibit A, I couldn’t remember huge chunks of what happened that night but mine was alcohol-induced and not because of some lusty haze. I remember Miss. S and I both eagerly lapping at The Fireman’s cock to start with. I also remember exploring her body, the female body, not really knowing what I was doing, not really sure what I should have been doing. It was at this stage of the night when things got a little weird for everyone involved. I guess we were just too young for that kind of thing. Young, dumb and inexperienced.

It was when The Fireman took the tip of Mr. R’s cock in his mouth that the weirdness began. I think he freaked himself out as much as the rest of us, 18 years old, young, naive and totally unaware of sexuality and what it really meant. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t even bisexual. He wasn’t even curious. I think he was just a little drunk, a lot horny, and there were so many naked bodies right there in front of him. If it was seemingly okay for me to go down on a girl, it was okay for him to go down on a guy… Except it wasn’t. He probably should’ve asked for permission. Mr. R recoiled but because of our drunkenness and the fact there were two naked girls before him, the act was simply put down to a misdemeanor and the festivities continued.

I remember riding my boyfriend while Miss. S used one hand to play with me and the other to jerk off Mr. R. I also remember watching my boyfriend bring Miss. S to “orgasm” (looking back, probably faked) with his hands while I sucked and nibbled on her nipples. Finally, I remember gasping loudly as Mr. R’s hands slid lightly across my tummy and lower, tentatively and gently running his fingers between my wet lips for the first time.

That’s when it came to an almighty conclusion.

You see, Mr. R touching me was too far for The Fireman. He had no problems with me playing with or being played by a woman but as soon as another man touched me, as soon as he heard that familiar gasp of pleasure escape my mouth, it was over. Too much. Stop*.

(*Or Eeyore, which had been our drunken safe word for too much.) 

He threw his trousers on, stormed out of the shed (you can laugh, I am), and crawled into his bed. It was late so by that time, his mother’s friends had gone home and/or passed out and it was left for me to ‘dispose’ of our guests who, during the argument, had carried on having the sex I was no longer getting.

I remember lying in bed for what felt like hours that night after they left, the room spinning, The Fireman passed out beside me. I was angry and frustrated as hell. How was this fair? If I allowed him to do whatever he wanted to another woman, how was it not okay for me to do whatever I wanted with another man? He had both of us sucking his cock at one point yet it wasn’t okay for Mr. R to touch me? He even had another man’s cock in his mouth yet it wasn’t okay for that man to have his fingers inside me? We were drunk, it was hardly cheating.

Except to him, it was. I shouldn’t have WANTED to fuck another man, to let another man touch me. That’s what he said, it was just too much for him. All of a sudden, he couldn’t handle seeing me being pleasured by the hands of another man. He cried that night and as he did, I hugged him tight. At 18 and 20 years old, we were definitely too young and naive to be attempting that sort of activity. What were we thinking?

So what did I learn about threesomes at eighteen years old?

Well, you should probably agree on the ‘rules’ beforehand – the things you are and aren’t allowed to do, touch, lick… These should be agreed, something we didn’t talk about, although it was all a pretty last-minute affair which I think brings me to my second point…

You should pre-plan this stuff. I’ve tried to pick a random girl up at a club and take her home with me and my boyfriend. Don’t worry, I’ll go into that at a later date. But it didn’t work. I didn’t get to take her home. I did get to fuck her but that’s not how the story was meant to go down. That’s not what was meant to have happened.

Just like that night at 18 years old, pissed as newts and trying to be sexual adults in a garden shed. It all seems so ridiculous when I look back at it now but that’s the kind of relationship I had with The Fireman. We learned to experiment together. We learned many new things together. Even to this day, the sex I had with that man will forever stay at the very top of my wank-bank. The things we allowed each other to do were ridiculous but they sure as hell were a lot of fun too. That’s the kind of thing you do at 18 isn’t it? Get drunk, make bad decisions and try to learn from them?

So, we’ve got pre-planning and ground rules and now I bring to you the most important point I learned that night… Respect.

The Fireman should have been respectful enough to ask whether or not it was okay to go down on Mr. R. Perhaps not in an outwardly-ask kind of way but in some way. It goes back to the ground rules again, clearly not something you think about pissed at 3am, sat in a garden shed.

Mr. R should also have been respectful enough to ask (in a sense) if he could touch me.  Or perhaps I should have been respectful enough to ask for permission to be touched by another man? Or another woman? Again, ground rules. But because of that complete disregard of respect for each other, for ourselves too, there were no rules. It was a free-for-all. Inevitably, it ended in disaster.

So there’s the three most important things I learned at 18 years old, trying to explore my sexuality with my first dalliance at group sex. Or a threesome really, seeing as the second man didn’t even really get a look-in.

Respect, planning, and rules. 

Must remember those for the second one… I’ll tell you about that later.

Oh, and just in case you didn’t, you should totally read Exhibit A’s blog post about threesomes. It’s a much more successful story than my own. Pretty damn filthy too… 😉

While you’re here, why not check out Part Two of My Threesome Flops?

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