Soundtrack: Burn by Usher.
When I woke up the morning after the night before with My Mr. Grey, I saw that I had a text from Jane (The Fireman’s Sister.) She wanted to see me again, apparently. I figured it was a great time to talk about what we were doing, what with Grey turning up and me shagging a man and a woman in the space of one week. What the fuck was I doing? Aside from having a lot of fun, I mean? Anyway, I suppose that’s how The Threesome That Wasn’t started. Or not started, as the case may be.
I should probably tell you the rest…
The Night
The night started with me and Jane, at The Flat, polishing off a couple of bottles of wine together. Somewhere along the way, Jane started doing my housework. I mean, I’d moaned about taking the sheets off the bed and washing them, leaving me with the awful task of putting the sheets, pillowcases, and duvet cover back on before I went to bed. It was (and still is) my least favourite job. I’m too short for that shit. Somehow, I always ended up inside the damn duvet cover, and sorting the bottom sheet just gave me arm and back ache after a while.
So, Jane stepped in. She grabbed the clean bedding, then put it all on my bed. Bottom sheet. Pillowcases. Duvet cover. Done.
“Happy now?” she asked.
“Yes, thank you,” I replied, blowing her a kiss and offering to pour her another glass of wine.
That’s when the doorbell rang. I could tell it was him before I’d even ran down the stairs to answer the door. It was his ring of the doorbell. I couldn’t explain it, but that one blast of noise told me everything that I needed to know… and my stomach dropped to the floor. The last thing I needed was for my two lovers to find out about each other.
“Hey, you,” he said, as soon as I’d swung the door open.
Fuck.
“Now’s not a good time,” I started to say, but Jane had appeared behind me.
“Oh, let him in,” she laughed. “The more the merrier!”
Fuck. Fuck.
I stood to the side, then shut the door after he’d entered, trying to think up reasons why he should leave all the while. It was my worst case scenario. I wasn’t exactly cheating, but I wasn’t exactly being honest about it all, either. Did I even need to be honest about it? No one had asked… so did it really matter?
The Threesome That Wasn’t
Grey drank lemonade and essentially watched as Jane and I got more and more and drunk… and more and more obvious, apparently.
“You two are fucking, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Nooooo,” we cried in unison, but it was no good. He knew. He knew me enough to know, you know?
So, of course, he encouraged it. Drink more, girls. Kiss more. Touch each other more. Show me this. Prove that. And being young, dumb, and drunk, Jane and I lapped it up. We did exactly as he asked, without him barely even having to ask.
“You know what would be fun?” he said.
I knew he was about to throw something odd and incredibly kinky, that would likely be incredibly fun into the mix. “What’s that?”
“We could have a threesome.”
If a man said that to me now, I would, of course, roll my eyes. Mmhmm, girl-on-girl action, lesbian fetishising, yeah, yeah, I know. Back then, of course, with one failed foursome under my belt, I jumped at the idea without even a second thought. Jane did, too.
“Wait there,” she told Grey, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the bedroom. “How does work?” she then whispered to me.
I laughed. “I don’t know! Go with the flow? It’s worked well for us so far, right?”
Jane nodded, then kissed me. And kissed me. And kissed me…
She kissed me for so long that my t-shirt came off, and my cargo pants, and even my socks. A few of her clothes joined mine on the floor, too: her smart black work trousers and the tailored black blouse.
In between kisses we whispered about what we were going to do to Grey, and to each other, in the up-and-coming threesome. And, honestly, we were going to run into the living room and grab him in a minute. Jane was going to do it right after her strappy black vest-top came off. I was going to do it after throwing off my bra. We were definitely both going to do it before we get into bed…
But we didn’t.
We didn’t get Grey before the last of our clothes came off, or before her fingers slipped inside me, or even before her mouth clamped around my clit. In fact, we had both forgotten that Grey even existed, that he was even sitting on my couch and waiting for one of us to call him in.
Jane didn’t make me come with her mouth, or her fingers, which settled some of my shit-at-lesbian-sex fears. With both of our fingers working together, however, we got there just fine.
We briefly discussed grabbing Grey before my fingers slid down between her thighs and we worked together to make her come, but the moment had passed. We were too focused on each other to invite someone else in now, him or anyone else.
It was a threesome in theory, whispers, and thought…
But it was the threesome that wasn’t, in reality.
Ooops.
The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: Number 18: The Girl I Can’t Forget.
Thanks so much for reading my blog today! 🖤
Want to read all about The Fireman’s Sister, from start to finish? You’ll find that right here.
You can also read all about my disastrous dating history, right from the beginning, right here: Table of Dating Contents.
Alternatively, why not have a little peek around here: