The Physics of Threesomes…

…And the night of a thousand limbs…

Bonjour mes amis! Yes I’ve gone continental, after my sojourn in Butlins (hell on earth) a strong Bordeaux red was in order. I’ve swapped gin for pastis, a drink exclusively enjoyed by the semi-fossilised, and my diet for baguettes. The holiday may have been planned but words can’t express how terrible Bognor Regis Butlins truly is, I was exhausted. Being part of a Hen party meant waking up for pleasant morning chit chat after an evening of pure stag madness. Something about dealing with belligerent man-babies after twenty vodkas made me feel like an alcoholic Jane Goodall. The breakfasts were quite tense. My body just survived dancing on a carpet that doubled as fly paper, a pool more chlorine than joy and a metric tonne of spiked slushies (I’ve found my inner child, unfortunately it was raised by Amy Winehouse).

Naturally you’ll be wondering if this delicate flower was crushed under some southern beau… You’d be wrong. I arrived fully intending to have shameful cut-price Club Med sex! However, as always within a patriarchal society, the issue was the men. Being a Hen and Stag inclined weekend didn’t help my chances, many of the viable men were cut for being straight, married or fathers. Through Grindr three unwise men did start messaging me (there’s a Nazer-ass pun waiting to be exploited there), but they all had spines weaker than Stephen Hawking’s high fives. Although they sported profiles touting “You know what this is app is for” and “no time-wasters”, none had any follow up when I actually agreed to have sex with them (in case you were wondering, my profile reads: “I’m like an unwashed muppet, playful and a little bit dirty *wink*”). Without my bastion of unwarranted self-confidence, I could very well of been broken by Butlins…

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And after that display David, it’s the only fun thing going into my mouth…

 

As you can see, spineless, but the experience has inspired me. Upon my return to England I am going to start agreeing to these dominant men who ‘are only interested in fun’. Chances are, once I grant their wishes like a slutty genie the menfolk will retreat into a ball of excuses, like a tardy seven-year-old or just daily Trump.

Soliloquies of failed liaisons are not why you’re here though, it’s the men (take note of the plural) who did get me naked that are important. Fortunately, before I waded through the cheap resort gauntlet I did have a ménage à trois, here meaning; I drank enough to swap inhibitions with 1990’s Pamela Anderson.

The road to threesome-city started where all poor sexual decisions begin, a rather sleazy house party… I’d been invited to get together (literally and figuratively) with some friends who I frequently danced with but never really spoke to, the perfect clubbing buddies. We all shared a symbiotic relationship with three older men, they provided wine and we provided minor attention. Now this may sound gross, it is, but bartering is the future and if I can trade a brush of the tight for a Merlot then goddammit I will.

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Dignity is much cheaper than money *wink*

 

After playing a superfluous round of Ring of Fire (a drinking game with the sole aim of destroying your memories), the gaggle of gays dispersed like a puff of sexually charged dandelion seeds around the house. I immediately tried to clear my head of chemicals by inhaling more chemicals under the crisp night sky.

Top Tip #675: Fight fire with fire, vice with new vices and ex-boyfriends with a bat.

Having gained a firmer grip over my legs thanks to a pimp slap of cold air, I headed back into the lion’s den. By this point, everything had become woozy and I knew I would have to camp out in one of my friend’s beds. Knowing this to be a dangerous decision (no one likes being gang raped), I did a quick scan for a benign sleeping buddy. Behind the first door I explored was a couple having full blown sex, apologising like a stunned mum, I quickly exited. The second bed was promising, it already had two sexually inert boys within to act as cannon fodder for any late night visitors (in the game of mild sexual assault, you sacrifice or you die). I was about to squeeze into the safest place, between the wall and another person, when a third head popped up. Not willing to play the drunkest game of sardines this side of a crack den, I continued my search for a nesting spot safe from predators.

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– Me, trying to walk and battle my inner demons…

 

Finally, I found a good place to sleep. The room was already occupied by an Indian and a black guy but my Imperial roots were showing and I claimed it for my own. I stayed up chatting with Guy #1 and Guy #2 (you’ll need to spend at least three hours with me to get a real alias), I’d never met them before and wanted to establish if the room was safe or not. Throughout the conversation both kept remarking how ‘crazy’ the party was, dropping hints that they wanted to join in. Guy #1 (the Indian one) soon lost all subtly and took off his trousers because ‘he was hot’ and ‘usually slept naked away’ [take a moment to physically eye roll please].

Admittedly, they both looked good, Guy #1 was lean with a sparkle of cheekiness behind the eyes. Guy# 2 possessed one of those sweet faces that suggested that although they were naughty, they were never suspected of being so. He also suffered a phantom fever and needed to take his t-shirt off. Underneath the offending garment Guy #2 revealed a toned body, unlike me he clearly didn’t confuse the gym with the gin.

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– Pictured, a heavy workout…

 

With clothes peeling away quicker than Brad Pitt’s respectability (finally a relevant pop-culture reference), I could tell where the night was heading. This hadn’t been my first ride on the merry-go-pound and I let their lips wash over me. We undressed with all the grace that three uncoordinated guys could muster, things got awkward fast. The first part of any threesome is always the easiest, foreplay. All that you need to do is writhe around naked and kiss what every passing body part is closest. Both men had fairly average penises, this may sound like a complaint but I have been cursed with terrible dicks lately. Read my blog cover to cover and you’d think I had demolished some angry fertility god’s temple, average suited me fine.

Twenty minutes of multicultural oral sex later and it was clear someone was going to get fucked. This is where Threesomes get difficult my friends. In our troupe there was a bottom, a top and someone who didn’t mind. Even with this ideal sounding combo, we managed to get stuck in a Gordian knot. Guy#2 wanted to get configured into a weird train formation which I flat out refused (I’m really good at being honest during sex now). This meant the tops had to pick who would be fucking first, but how to decide? “After you” sounds far too polite, at least without any top hats to gentlemanly tip (Victorian fantasies are the best fantasies). Roughly grabbing the poor bottom was also out the question as we were too polite, it was a threesome catch-22.

Top Tip #901: When comparing your sexual prowess to books, always pick Pulitzer prize winners i.e. “My bed has seen All The Kings Men” or “After a night with me, you’ll be on The Edge of Sadness”.

We cycled through positions until we found our rhythm. The sex wasn’t bad but there were far too many limbs to contend with. As someone who barely knows where to hold their arms in photos, an extra ten appendages was my physical waterloo. As sweat sparkled over faces of confused ecstasy, Guy#1 shuddered and I came to the conclusion that I’d stick to simpler sex for a while. Leaving them to bask in the afterglow, I dressed and headed towards the kitchen for a drink.

 

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If only my hair was that together…

 

This dear reader, is the fundamental problem with threesomes. Two people can easily express or suppress their wants, but three people opens up a sexual democracy. For any of you wanting to tangle (and I do mean tangle) with two partners then you’ll need to establish a clear leader. Giving over to a dictatorship allows the passion to flow smoothly, with the added benefit of not needing a position itinerary. Although some will lose their sexual liberty, they’ll always be submissives and dominants, getting the mix right is what makes for an effective threesome.

Orgies on the other hand, are madness. That story will sadly have to wait though… Now that I’ve explained threesomes cooly through world ideologies, I think I’ll be giving them a rest for a time. I like my men like I like my coffee, one at a time.

Stats:

Cigarettes: Being in France has amped my smoking up to ‘small chemical fire’ levels.

Diet: None!

Exercise: See cigarettes, my body is getting a workout.

Dates: Who knows in the rolling hills of Bordeaux? I might finally meet my perfect man, a vintner.

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4 thoughts on “The Physics of Threesomes…

  1. I’ve taken part in two “ménage à trois” myself and I must concur they are nothing like pornographic clips would perceive one to think, but then again is any sex ever like porn? XD I didn’t think I’d ever read an allusion to gay threesomes with Victorian etiquette, but I love it haha! Glad you’re having a nice holiday, enjoy. Was this your first threesome, by the way?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks! My holiday aim is to come back looking Sub-Saharan ☻. It wasn’t the first one, I’ve been in a couple and one orgie (none were amazing)… I would never say never to another, but I need some time to let the memory become rosy and not raw 😅

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  2. I think I laughed loud enough to scare my neighbors at your “I like my men like I like my coffee…” line! And I concur. I’ve never really seen the appeal of threesomes, and I’m completely over awkward sex with people I don’t know well. My husband has hinted that he thinks a threesome would be fun, but I don’t think he’s fully thought out the details of it! (Plus, the threesome would begin and end with me punching the other woman out in a fit of rage, so… not a great idea.)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I think the reason I have done them is to be more sexually adventurous and thanks in part to a poor memory! If your husband wants to get a feel for what it’s like minus a knuckle sandwich, then I reccomend getting on a crowded train. You get all the horrors of confused contact without any fear of sexually transmitted disease.
      Thanks! X

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