Threesome!

“Thailand? I’ve never been. You like it there?”

“Yeah, Thailand’s awesome! You need to go – especially the islands.”

“Cool, maybe I’ll do that some day. Thanks for the tip.”

—

Thinking about it now, I can’t recall many conversations simultaneously stranger and more banal than that one. Naked on a hotel bed out in the London suburbs, still recovering from an almost comically strong orgasm, I lay there and discussed holiday destinations with a man I’d met in person less than two hours earlier, when I led him from Reception up to the room.

But then what else are you meant to talk about right after a threesome…

It’s pretty rare for new sexual experiences to work out perfectly – to exceed your expectations, rather than merely satisfy them. That’s especially true when longstanding fantasies are involved, which is why I was still a little stunned by the time Tom left the hotel shortly afterwards. So stunned, in fact, that it’s taken me this long to write about what was, without question, one of the hottest things I did last year…or perhaps any year.

As regular readers of this blog will know, I’ve wanted more group sex encounters for a while now. I had my first threesome back in 2005, with a Canadian couple I’d come to know pretty well over the preceding few months. It was hot, and sweet, and kinky, and intimate, all at the same time; it felt organic, I guess, even though we’d discussed it at length beforehand. In part that’s because none of us really knew what we were doing. We were young and just wanted to have fun together, so sort of made up the rest as we went along, with results that were as serendipitous as they were somehow fleeting – like we’d just broken the surface of something much deeper.

As their guest star, I was also cast in a role largely devoid of emotional responsibility or pressure. Last summer, I found myself in a slightly different position. Juliane and I had been regular but fairly casual lovers for just over a year, before she’d drawn a line under things in order to focus on finding a long-term partner. We were each very comfortable with what the other liked and wanted in bed, and had talked many times about our shared threesome fantasy; at some point we decided that before she actually met someone, we should at least try to make it a reality.

Of course it’s very easy to discuss the idea of bringing in a stranger. What I realise now is that Juliane and I were able to go through with it mainly because of the really high level of physical trust that existed between us. I knew what she’d actually be up for – versus what she might just enjoy fantasising about – and she had confidence in my ability to keep her safe and make the whole thing feel really good. Without that, I don’t think either of us would have felt comfortable enough to start planning it in earnest.

We found Tom on Craigslist, and were instantly drawn to the way he worded his ad. He seemed considerate, respectful, experienced with group play, and mindful of the trust and communication issues that go with it. He wanted to meet – or at least talk over the phone – before arranging to hook up, which we had already decided was a prerequisite from our point-of-view, and we both just got the sense from his tone and language that he was one of those personal ad rarities: a pretty decent guy.

In fairness, it wasn’t just the wording that attracted our attention. Tom has – and there’s really no delicate way to put this – an absolutely enormous cock. Like, 9 inches enormous. Juliane was uncertain at first (“Have you seen how thick that thing is? My poor cunt…”), but the more we talked about actually doing it, the hotter she seemed to find the whole idea of taking something that big – especially while also having me to deal with.

After exchanging a few emails with Tom, we agreed that he’d meet Juliane at a bar in South London for a quick drink. This was going to be a ‘V-shaped threesome’, as a friend of mine recently described it; Juliane’s pleasure was the sole focus, and whether in tandem or in turn, Tom and I were there to make sure she had a good time. For that reason, the physical chemistry between them would be crucial, whereas it felt less important for the two of us to meet in person beforehand.

When I joined Juliane afterwards for the debrief, it was clear that they’d hit it off, and she was unequivocal in her desire to take things forward. She was also seriously turned on, a fact confirmed when I slid my fingers into her knickers under the table. It was impossible to feel how wet she was without getting hard in response, and at that point it was clear that no further discussion was required – we both wanted this to happen.

Juliane and I considered using her apartment for the threesome itself (pros – increased comfort, more space, no cost; cons – post-sex cleaning, and the possibility that he might still turn out to be a creep/stalker/psycho), but eventually settled on a local hotel. We booked a family room (two double beds, just in case things got seriously wild) and agreed that regardless of when things wrapped up the two of us would stay the night, for a more luxurious form of aftercare than her flat might allow.

We also decided that in order to set the mood – and to enjoy Tom’s visit properly – some pre-care would be needed, so two hours before he was due to arrive Juliane checked into the hotel, and a short while later I joined her in the room. I’d picked up a bottle of Prosecco on my way to the station, and over a couple of glasses – enough to strip away some of the nerves, not so much that our senses or judgement were impaired – we relaxed on the larger of the two beds.

Unsurprisingly, relaxation in this context involved a LOT of oral sex and a long, slow, teasing fuck, with Juliane using her fingers to get herself off as I held my cock inside her. It felt like we were both trying to get the right balance; to leave ourselves wired and eager for more stimulation, rather than sleepy and satisfied.

For me, that meant not coming before Tom arrived. I knew an orgasm would take the edge off my arousal, and while I definitely wanted to feel in control of both myself and the situation, I also needed the intensity and focus which accompany that desire for release.  It was different for Juliane – when she came, it just made her even hornier, and by the time my phone buzzed to say that Tom was downstairs, I knew she was ready for just about anything.

I walked back into the room with Tom two minutes later to find her still naked. There was a momentary pause – as if we were all taking one last, deep, silent breath before plunging in – and then she walked over towards us, holding her glass of Prosecco. I stood back and watched her greet him with a tentative kiss, which became deeper as he pulled her against his body. When she started to tug at his shirt buttons I stepped in again, sandwiching her between us and letting her feel my hard cock rub between her arse cheeks through my jeans. Neither Tom nor I stayed clothed for much longer…

This is the bit where I have to disappoint those of you hoping for a blow-by-blow (heh) account of the threesome itself. Even if I’d written this post the following morning, I’d have struggled to remember all the details of who did what to whom – the whole thing was just too overwhelmingly hot for my brain to process it in that way.

Instead I have snapshots and freeze-frames. Mental images as clear and distinct as they are frustratingly discrete – as if my brain has put together a highlights package for me to enjoy whenever I want to revisit that evening.

So what exactly do I see when I watch those highlights now? What has my memory preserved?

I see Tom kneeling on the bed as Juliane took his cock in her hand and lowered her mouth over it. Her fingertips struggling to meet around the thick shaft. His head tossed back and his hips pushing forward, just a little, just enough.

I see myself kneeling behind her as she sucked him, and lifting her arse high enough to push my cock all the way inside her cunt. The way it didn’t even break her rhythm when I started to thrust, slow and hard, my eyes fixed on the back of her blonde, bobbing head.

I see my hands on Juliane’s body, dragging her to the edge of the bed till her head was hanging off it, then fucking her throat while Tom held her hips and slammed into her cunt. Her neck muscles straining and her hands twisting at the sheets, as if trying to anchor herself against the buffeting forces pounding her from either side.

I see the two of them together, fucking on the bed in front of me. My right hand clutching a glass of Prosecco, steadier than I’d thought it would be, and my left playing lazily with my cock, less interested in stimulating myself than in watching him move on top of her. Trying to catch her eye, only to realise that she was too lost in the moment to look my way.

I see the sheen of sweat on Juliane’s stomach when I squeezed under it to lick her clit, and the thick curve of Tom’s cock right next to my lips, opening up her tight cunt with every stroke. Feeling the heat from their fuck, this close to my face, and knowing how easy it would be to move my tongue up and drag it along his shaft as he slid into her.

I can also hear the sound she made when he filled her for the first time like that. It was a low, guttural moan, forced out from the back of her throat and stifled only by her lips sliding over the head of my cock. In fact, very few of the noises Juliane made that evening were intelligible – she’d given us full control over her body, and I knew enough about what she wanted to ensure that she didn’t need to guide us or ask for something different.

My interactions with Tom were largely confined to grunted suggestions as we passed Juliane between us.

“That’s it, don’t stop fucking her.”

“Here, eat her out while she sucks me.”

“You want her cunt again now? Go for it.”

We were strangers united by a common purpose, and the simplicity of the arrangement made everything more straightforward. Tom and I called the shots; Juliane did what (and whom) she was told.

After over 90 minutes I realised I was almost at the point where I’d be too tired to actually come. Tom had worked his way through three or four of the extra-large condoms he’d brought with him, and Juliane looked like she could barely move without assistance, so as he held her legs apart and stroked his cock in and out of her cunt, I knelt over her face and slid mine into her mouth. She reached for it immediately, and curled her fingers around the base, gripping firmly enough that I could feel them jerking me off with each thrust.

When I leaned forward and shot cum into Juliane’s mouth and over her face, it felt like a suitably pornographic way to end things – the money shot to end all money shots. The thing is though, it’s the other ending that sticks in my mind. The bit that came afterwards. The way it actually felt pretty normal to lie there and have a post-threesome chat about Thailand with a man whose cock still bulged obscenely across his tight boxer-briefs.

I suppose it sticks because I hadn’t expected to feel that comfortable after such an intense experience. I’d built it up in my head as this really big thing – exciting, but also pretty fucking scary – and while on one level it lived up to that billing, on another it proved to be a lot more manageable (less intimidating?) than I’d perhaps anticipated. The subsequent pillow talk – as dull as it may have been – symbolised that better than anything else we did together earlier in the evening.

It took me nearly 10 years to have my second threesome, but thanks to a combination of trust, good communication, sexual compatibility, and a ‘fuck it’ attitude, it proved to be worth the wait. I don’t think it’ll be another 10 years before I do it again…