What is it really like to have a threesome?

One writer reveals how group sex affected her relationship with her boyfriend

It was three o’clock in the morning and I really wanted to go to sleep, but my boyfriend of nine months didn’t seem tired, and neither did the woman we’d just had sex with. My eyelids were drooping, but I was determined not to be the one to break it up, or go to bed first.

‘Shall we open some more wine?’ Laura* suggested.

My boyfriend read my expression, knowing from looking at me that the last thing I wanted was to stay up even later, drinking even more.

“I think we should head to bed,” he replied.

I felt grateful – until I realised that his suggestion had opened a whole new can of worms. We had discussed the sleeping arrangements earlier – along with everything else – but that was before, and this was now. I remember feeling slightly panicked that James* would forget what we’d agreed, or that Laura would be upset with the plan. ‘I’ll get the sofa bed out,’ James announced, leaving a long pause.

‘I don’t mind sleeping in here with you guys,’ replied Laura.

If I’d been holding James’s hand, I would have dug my nails in, but Laura was sitting between us with our duvet pulled up to her shoulders. I tried to look like it didn’t bother me – I don’t think I did a very good job, because James took over. ‘I just think it’ll be a bit cramped,’ he said. ‘Do you want tea?’

Not wanting to share a bed with Laura wasn’t about what we’d just done – we’d been planning the threesome for about six weeks and I was happy we’d gone through with it – but the bed really wasn’t big enough for three. I also didn’t want to sleep next to someone I barely knew.

James and Laura went to the kitchen together and I thought about changing the sheets, but I don’t when just James and I have sex, so I didn’t. I knew it would look like I was freaking out. The next morning, we slept late and had breakfast together, but I wanted Laura to go, so I could be alone with James. I wanted to talk about what had happened and to go back to bed and enjoy each other all over again. When she did eventually leave, Laura kissed me on the cheek and James on the lips. The night before, I’d watched her have sex with him without a twinge of jealousy, but now, as I watched her kiss him, I was overcome with it.

We still see Laura occasionally, socially, and the fact that we’ve been together isn’t something I’ve ever tried to hide from. I don’t regret it; it’s still one of my hottest memories – the one that James and I talk about the most in bed. However, there’s more to it than that: The way James treated me, the fact he was so sensitive to my needs and emotions, was a foundation on which I’ve built my trust for him ever since.

I think of what happened that night as a bit like bungee jumping. I’m glad I tried it – it was fun – but that doesn’t mean it’s changed me as a person, or that I’m in any rush to do it again.

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