This is a true tale of a spontaneous almost-threesome I had with a couple, a few hours after meeting.

One winter, while visiting my parents in Florida, I returned to a place of swirlingly lost teenage years. At this time, I was reading tons of erotic fiction, watching gifs of women sucking on women’s breasts feverishly, and wishing I could end this pent up fear of loving women.

Stumbling around okcupid, pretending that I’m not actually looking for anything…I discover a polyamorous couple, that look startlingly cool seeing as I usually find the masses in Florida startlingly dull. I’m not sure what they’ll actually be like. But, you know, Tampa’s boring and I would love some new relatable friends, at the very least.
I say fuck it.

Let’s call them Ché and Xane.

I just go head first, and tell them that I want to hang out, that maybe we can make clay-crystal sculptures, that maybe we can listen to records and pull tarot cards. I soon realize that they are both very open, very badass individuals, and the connecting feels shy yet natural. We began texting each other, myself having separate conversations with each of them. From the get go, Ché has me swooned. She’s sensitive, wise, humble and fucking adorable.

The day comes. The day we decide to do the damn thang! Were gonna hang out! I don’t tell my parents where I’m going, which I pray is not a huge mistake. After all, this docile couple could very well be serial killers. That chance is just all part of the fun, though! I have zero expectations.

I arrive to their apartment, and their two large dogs try to maul me. A very graceful entrance indeed. The air is thick with attraction musked over by complete awkwardness. I have no idea what to expect. I sit on the ground in the living room across from Xane, and we chat about intentional communities, and lock eyes, and smiles creep in, and the film of paper thin male-female flirtation ice has officially broken. Their roommate who lives on the couch is an uncomfortable addition to the moment. Ché is flitting about, more nervous than anyone I’ve seen in ages. I can’t believe how much of a little faerie she is. Tiny, shapely. With these high flushed cheekbones, a messy head of faerielocks, big, glowing, delicately pointed eyes and the most delicious pair of shy, nervous, seductively plump lips. I have no idea what we talked about all day, it didn’t even really matter. All that mattered was the buzz of taboo sexual attraction between three humans, and the wordlessly kindred spirits we all shared.

Night fell, we ate vegetarian orange chicken stir-fry. We sat in a circle on their carpet floor. Smoked a joint. Listened a First Aid Kit record. We dared each other to paint our lips with Sriracha. We panted with stinging lips, knowing all of us wanted to secretly suck on each other’s to soothe them. We drew cards from an oracle deck, and asked the cosmos what is it that drew us together. They were all very obvious. We wanted to play, in everyway. The cards revealed that there was repressed energy between Ché and I (dur, dur, durrrrr), and to be more comfortable we moved to their bedroom. (It was such a forward gesture on Xane’s part, but I said fuck it! I want to, and I’m being present.)

We draw more cards, and the all-omniscient-ness tells Ché and I to express what it is we have buried away. We both play coy and try to push away the walls of truth that are closing in, when Xane suggests we both write our secrets on shreds of paper, Xane will read them and let us know if they’re the same thing. At this point, all the attention is 100% on Ché and I. And we all know what’s coming. I’m too scared to write. My decade long repression of bisexuality is sneaking up on me and I feel frozen in time, frozen in all the fantasies about women I’ve ever had, about to unravel in real time, in front of my own eyes.

“I want to kiss you.” I write. Xane collects our secrets and looks at both of us, and tells us that we practically wrote the same thing. Ché and I look at each other. Tense. Aroused. She pounces towards me, incredibly surprisingly, wrapping her arms around my neck. We fuse together, faces pressed hard against each other, tongues searching the mouth of the other for the secret that it couldn’t reveal. Breathing deeply through our noses, any trace of reality wafts away in the pheromones of her nose breath. Sudden and surreal is the wetness between my legs.

Xane watches us forget him completely, with a smile twisted into the corners of his mouth. I feel a warm hand on my back, and realize he’s kissing Ché’s neck. Soon they break away kissing and for a moment, I witness the long, adventurous relationship they’ve shared for years. I’m a guest in their bed. They are dope as fuck. This whole thing is dope as fuck.

Mid-thought, Xane pursues me….we haven’t kissed yet. We draw each other in, without the nervousness that Ché and I shared; with an ease of having done this before…somehow, someway, the earth shakes a little and we dangle off the bed, gyrating our pelvis’ over one anothers in an embrace, kissing with an intensity so erotically raw. His primal lust etching away my inhibitions.

Ché has been gone for too long from my lips, and I break away to find her again. I’m eager to explore her….off comes some tops and before I know, her nipples are rising into hard buttons in my wet warm mouth. Alternating my sucking back and forth, never wanting to split a moment between the Goddess’ two breasts. I see Xane feeling around Ché’s panties. Oh fuck, it’s so hot to see that out of the corner of my eye…his other hand finds my pants and peels them down. Ché and I are enjoying our attention and watching him play with our dewy, blossoming flowers while we take turns sucking on each other’s necks. We let out moans and coos, unashamed of our heat. Xane’s going down on both of us. I’m too stimulated in too many places to soak it all in.

I feel safe with them, but scared, like everything is moving in fast motion. Ché is kneeling above me, kissing me with a fervor that is both wildly adorable and insanely erotic, especially with Xane behind her burying his manhood inside of his lovers lovely pussy. A soft spot in me begins to bloom open too and Xane is pushing himself into me. He eases himself in and out, startling me, exploring me.

Suddenly it’s all really happening fast. Too too too too fast.

I want it all to slow down. I jump out from under them, and sit upright on the bed. Naked. Between gorgeous strangers. They both soothe me and try to coax me back down from my shock. Without words, dart into the bathroom.

I sit peeing in the darkness, wondering to myself why on earth am I afraid, when my fantasies are coming to life. I did want it. All of it. I had too many walls in my head to allow myself to enjoy it. Too many self-judgement patterns popping up. “This is good,” I thought to myself, “I have an opportunity now to let go of my self-judgement and enjoy how good it feels to be free and expressive.” But another time. For now, I need to process the entire meeting. And breathe.

I go back to the bedroom and I tell them how I’m feeling, they beg me to sleep the night with them, cuddling in bed. It sounds so fucking sweet, but they understand that I’m overwhelmed, and probably need some time to absorb. I can’t find my shirt, so I leave topless without it. We all kiss each other goodbye with a bittersweetness and plans to see each other again.

I drive through Tampa topless and breathless at 4am, with their drying saliva sparkling all over my body, and the magic of spontaneity twinkling in my tired eyes.