I say almost, because it didn’t happen! Here is the story. I was out one night with my (then) crush. We met up with a couple of his friends: one man, one woman, both single.
It wasn’t even like I had this great sexual fantasy of having sex with more than one person at a time, but I felt I needed to go along with the idea to please him and this (non)adventurous side to my sexuality I was trying to develop. Not only were we drunk, and therefore sloppy, but I also wasn’t remotely attracted to these other two people. In fact, I didn’t even particularly one of them like as a human being in the first place.
Needless to say, we went back to the hotel room and the clothes started coming off. We began swapping from person to person: kissing, touching, and petting. It was all fairly PG13 to start with. But I couldn’t get out of my head that eventually this other guy (that I didn’t like) would expect something from me, and I just knew I wouldn’t be able to give it. It completely consumed my mind.
Then my crush pulled down his pants to reveal his erection, and the girl that wasn’t me went down on her knees. That was the moment that I left the room: just like that. I knew at that moment that was the very last place I wanted to be and I did something about it. I didn’t give a continental shit about what they thought of me, or whether they even carried on without me. It didn’t matter.
And it was at this moment that I knew I would never do something just for the sake of someone else and how they might/might not perceive me ever again. I’m glad I at least tried though – because now I know just how how much it isn’t for me. Or, perhaps that’s why threesomes are a thing, and not foursomes, because it was anything but sexy.
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