Wanna Have a Threesome?

Threesome almost feels like a bad word at this point. At worst, the experience can be disorganized and over-performative, but at best — when you’ve perfected the art of communicatively taking turns — it truly is the more the merrier.

I find that one of the most unappealing aspect of threesomes is that it’s an infamous facet of straight boy dreams, but I want to advocate for the group setting. Here are a few of my personal tips that may help enhance your ménage à trois!

 

Who to ask.

Some enjoy the novelty of a stranger, while others find comfort in the familiarity of a friend or acquaintance. Inviting a stranger into the mix can be ideal for those who want to avoid potentially shifting the nature of their current intimate relationships.

However, friends can be preferable for those who seek familiarity. Before you and and your partner bring others into bed, ask yourselves: what would best enrich my experience?

 

Initiate the conversation.

Introducing your desires may take your partner(s) by surprise, which is fair enough! Endeavoring into new sexual territory requires a lot of trust. Be open to answering all of their questions — before, during, and after. Your partner(s) may experience internal conflicts and express insecurities about their performance in bed, hold space for their concerns. Communicate why you’d think a threesome may be fun for you both and how it’s an interest not borne from boredom in your shared sex life. 

Remember that it is a conversation, be as open-minded as you would want in return. 

 

Vocalize fears and concerns beforehand.

Be open about your own and your partner(s)’ expectations. Discuss specifically what you are and are not comfortable with. Is something about the deed making you nervous? Are you concerned with the aftermath? 

Talking about your desires and fears beforehand will also ensure that every participant is prepared. If you all aren’t familiar with each others sexual wants, be honest about what gets you going. Don’t worry about ruining the spontaneity, life has its way of slipping surprises in no matter what. 

Set your boundaries.

Decide what is off-limits. If kissing isn’t in the cards — be vocal about it! No anal? Perfectly fine. Similarly, advocate for what you do want to try. Threesomes also don’t have to be treated as a singular occasion. Sex in general requires a lot of practice to familiarize yourself with others bodily preferences. No decisions have to be made immediately, but extend the idea of giving each other the chance to practice. 

 

Be prepared with condoms and lube.

What’s a bigger buzzkill than scrambling for that one condom you are SO sure you have under your bed somewhere? Nothing is hotter than being prepared. Also, don’t forget the toys! Throwing in a gadget or two may ensure that no one feels left out.

 

Don’t use porn as a guide.

Sexual navigation is more complicated than pornography can prepare you for. You and your partner likely don’t behave like pornstars in bed, so why reference it? Although, it can be a hot tool to utilize during the real life thing, if you’re into that. 

There is no singular or right way to have a threesome!

 

It’s OK to change your mind.

You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If your partners give you a hard time about it then it just validates your decision even more.

 

Have fun and roll with the punches (metaphorically)!

Sex is messy. We, ourselves, are subject to being messy. Be confident in yourself and follow your gut. Nothing that you do for the first or hundredth time has to go off without a hitch. Don’t be overcritical of your own performance. 

 

It’s all right if everything doesn’t go “back to normal” afterwards. 

Don’t feel pressured to achieve normalcy. Maybe it’s better if your relationships with your partner(s) take a different shape rather than squeezing into socially acceptable and formal boxes. You’re in charge of the relationships you want and the sex you want. 

 

Be safe, be confident, and be kind! 

 

Photos (in order of appearance) by Sweet Suezy, Dariana Portes, and Francesca Iacono

 

I Don’t Forgive You And I Don’t Have To

I have dated enough toxic men to know that I am sick of being forgiving.

Forgiveness within a relationship is not a necessity, despite what we have been led to believe. It’s hard to know what emotional abuse looks like, but you know what it feels like. There is a pattern of sweeping emotional abuse under the rug because there aren’t the same bruises you can show as when someone throws you around. But abuse isn’t quantifiable and sometimes healing takes a lifetime.

After my second round in a budding romance that quickly turned sour, I was paralyzed by what that meant about myself. I wondered why it was so difficult to love me. I eventually realized I wasn’t undeserving of love; my partner was undeserving of me. Your partner isn’t allowed to project pain onto you because they are hurting. There are some who do and some of us put up with anything in the name of unconditional love — and I am absolutely guilty as charged. Now I have a strictly enforced policy of kicking toxic people out of my life for good.

*  *  * 

 

You are not allowed to body-shame me as some sick grasp for control in our relationship.

My partner would constantly compare every inch of my body to other women. My eyes, my ass, my lips, and the excessive softness of my belly were all subject to falling just short of his fantasy of what I should look like for him. Years later, I am still recovering from the injuries to my body image, something that might never heal to what it once was, but that is okay. What isn’t okay is a pattern of violent slut-shaming and body-shaming that is a product of someone else’s own sexual insecurities. The way in which my body was fragmented and scrutinized discouraged me from feeling like I had any possession of my own body. Not only is it harmful in the micro-romantic settings of your partnerships, but it also a perpetuated competition against other women, insisting that you exist within an hierarchy of arbitrary desirability. But I do not want to live within those confines and if your partners are adamant in assuming control over your body, I promise you that their version of love is one you can thrive without.

 

You are not allowed to define me by my sexual experiences or impose your unfortunate sense of purity onto me.

Looking back, it seems like the most obvious display of subtle misogyny from my partner was how threatened he felt by my sexual experiences and his lack thereof. The interactions that made me feel liberated disgusted him. I’ve been called “nasty” and “gross” and a plethora of other unsavory and juvenile insults. His disgust transparently exhibited the truth of his fears, fear that I knew more about my own body than he ever would about his. But it is not my problem or my duty to absolve men of their tendency to exemplify just how fragile their masculinity is.

 

You are not allowed to use me as an emotional punching bag, let alone lay your hands on my body as an exercise of your falsely imagined dominance.

As complicated as relationships are, everyone has their threshold. All I think about after my partners have hit me, kicked me in my stomach, and tortured me mercilessly is how much better I am than them. They will never know what it’s like to love themselves. After years of healing, my most ingenious approach has been to realize that they do not deserve my forgiveness. I do not have to make amends with anyone but myself and it is completely valid for me to come to terms with the fact that there are experiences I’m not required to get over, and there are individuals who do not deserve anything but a big, wet, and juicy “fuck you” forever.

*  *  * 

 

You are allowed to be enraged that your partners have hurt you, you are allowed to hold your partners accountable. You are allowed redefine what it means to heal.

 

Photos by Alisha Hofkens.