Over the past few years, as I’ve been reevaluating large chunks of my adult life and especially my early twenties, there’s a question that I find myself continually coming back to: why, exactly, did young me have as many threesomes as she did?
By the time I was in my thirties I was a real threesome pessimist — my general feeling has been that they’re overhyped and usually bad. It’s hard enough to have good chemistry with one other person; expecting three people to be magically in sync as they choreograph a fuck? Nearly impossible! But in my twenties, and especially my early twenties… well let’s just say I had a different opinion.
There are some obvious explanations here, of course. I was interested in threesomes because I was sexually curious and had come of age with the message that group sex was a cool thing that cool sexy people (and especially cool bi girls) did. I was interested in threesomes because my boyfriend was interested in threesomes, and I wanted to do the things that made me happy. I was interested in threesomes because it was another experience to check off my list. But also — and this one feels weirder to admit — I was interested in threesomes because I was insecure about my desirability to women, and I thought that having my boyfriend in the mix would make me more attractive to other women.
I don’t hear that last explanation very often, but I have to believe it’s not an uncommon one. On the apps, I see couples who seem to fit the profile: it’s the hot girl who doesn’t quite know she’s hot, who’s new to queerness, and her unremarkable boyfriend (often older) who’s cheering her on. So often they get framed as co-conspirators; the woman a bit of bait used to secure her partner access to additional pussy. But I have to wonder at times whether it’s more complicated than that, whether — rather than intentionally engaging in a bait and switch — some of these women simply do not believe that other women will fuck them if there isn’t a man along for the ride.
Because that certainly was a part of it for me. In my early twenties I had a harder time understanding why a woman would want me, how I could possibly sexually please a woman as well as a man. Having my boyfriend in the mix felt like a security blanket, a way of ensuring that someone more experienced, more natural, at all of this would be keeping the train on the tracks. Having my boyfriend in the mix felt like a way to mask my own shortcomings.
The irony, of course, is that more often than not the women I had threesomes were merely tolerating my boyfriend so that they could get access to me, would actively avoid him whenever possible. Not always, mind you: there was at least one woman who clearly saw me as the bum end of the package deal. But more often than not, I was the star of the show, the desirable commodity, and he was the also ran. I just couldn’t actually see it.
Anyway. It’s very fashionable to shit on cis bi girls who seek out threesomes with their straight cis boyfriends, and I do get why (I, too, have been treated as prey by unicorn hunters). But knowing what I know — having been where I have been — there is a part of me that’s got some sympathy for the women in these pairings. How often are they just insecure bi women terrified they’re not good enough for one on one sex with another woman? How often are they, like a younger me, simply too insecure to see that they, themselves, are the actual prize in the mix?
As always, the insights and observations are appreciated. Being now an older male who would totally be part of a threesome mix, there is some truth and sadness that we are usually a barely tolerated part of the triad. I have only had MMF threesomes and my desires were twofold: having my female partner get fucked by someone different with me present—and also pleasing her in some way; and also as a way to scratch my own bi-itch. I thought another male would take the pressure off me to be an inexhaustible fuck-machine and also provide me a way to pleasure another man, which I found to be great fun as well. I am single now. I never had a FFM threesome, mostly because my female partners were mildly bi-curious at best and my enthusiasm and encouragement only created suspicion, not trust. Fair enough. Soooo...these things are complicated! At 62, my definition of sex is more broad than 30 years ago, but staying aware of one's motivations—threesome or not—is always good advice!