Fantasy is easy. It’s idealised and naïve and perfect and nothing goes wrong. Nobody loses because everybody is a figment of the imagination. How do you react when your fantasy becomes reality, outside of your control? What happens when you find yourself confronted with your own desires? How much are you really comfortable with? Sensa Nostra speaks with one quarter of an unplanned foursome between two couples.
I was 22 and, after getting out of a long, unhealthy, and restrictive relationship, I found myself in a long-distance relationship with a man who was very open with his sexuality and enabled me to explore my own. His lust and bold sexual aura excited me and when, at a party on one of his weekends visiting me, we shared secretive kisses in a dark hallway with another girl, the thought of a threesome was thrilling. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before and watching Brendan kiss another girl was confusing and exciting. With part disappointment and part relief, the considered threesome never eventuated, but the thought lingered.
Brendan had a best friend, Matt, and Matt had a girlfriend, Bree. I knew she was interested in girls and had recently been exploring her own sexuality. Me, being in a state of heightened sensuality, with this new boyfriend who was so comfortable and sexual, played with the idea of hooking up with Bree for fun. Besides that though, Matt and Bree were such close friends with Brendan, and I, as the New Girlfriend, wanted so badly to be a part of that group. And so one night, in an effort to continually improve my friendship with them, I invited Brendan, Bree and Matt to my house for dinner. I was aglow with the prospect of being invited into this tight-knit group and the wine and conversation flowed freely. About two bottles in, mid-conversation, Bree suddenly asked, “How does everyone feel about group sex?”
From there, it was inevitable. The sexual tension sent waves of electricity through the atmosphere and after some more polite conversation, somebody suggested we just get naked already. And then, in a drunken, giggling blur we were literally running to my room to pull each others’ clothes off. In a wine induced haze, I watched Matt and Bree having sex beside me, as Brendan had his face buried between my legs. And then suddenly, Bree was kissing me and the boys were high-fiving and we were a mixture of bodies in a drunken fog, blurring into one another. Even now, the memories swim together but I remember, clear as crystal, when I saw Bree’s hand on Brendan’s cock and then they were having sex. And then Matt and I were having sex and I didn’t know what I was thinking or feeling, all I knew was my boyfriend was having sex with someone I barely knew and so was I. I hadn’t prepared for this but all I could do was say fuck it and just try to have fun. Maybe I should have stopped it there but I’d had just enough to drink that I was open to where the night had unexpectedly lead, and I wanted to see it through. I wanted to know if I was capable of it.
It probably went for an hour or so, all swapping and playing with each other, and then I got my boyfriend back and we had sex until the two of us had finished. Eventually we were all exhausted and after a sleepy goodbye, Bree and Matt left to go home to their own bed. Two hours later, I woke up and groggily drove Brendan to the airport so he could fly home.
In my idealised girlish fantasies, this was not how I had ever imagined a foursome playing out. As soon as it was over, he was gone and there was no time or space to debrief. I felt entirely alone and lost. This experience had been thrust upon me and now I was left to deal with it in isolation. I became consumed with this deadly, sickening feeling in my stomach and I found out what it felt like to have real, scorching, hateful jealousy burnt into me. I was so wrapped up in my hungover blur of a world the next day, with no one around to talk about the experience with, that I sunk into a depressive state.
I called Brendan and expressed, to some extent, how I was feeling. And he assured me that sex with Bree was not something he’d been secretly lusting over and that I should speak to her. I remember being so pathetic down the phone to her, crying endlessly, telling her everything and being so afraid she would hate me for it. But with her reassuring words I remembered that Bree was actually not a spiteful witch but a really cool, caring person. I had assumed that she had had ulterior motives – that she just wanted my boyfriend and I was a necessary evil – but with the phone pressed to my ear, wet with tears, I heard her calming voice and I realised she didn’t want my boyfriend any more than I wanted hers. And from there we formed the friendship that I had always been hoping for in the first place. Matt and I did the same thing – we talked and he comforted me and I knew these people cared about me; that I was in good hands.
It was funny, we did the relationship backwards – started with sex, and then worked our way to being friends. In the longer term, all the relationships there were better off for the experience. It has absolutely strengthened my relationship with Brendan and my friendship with the others is different to any other friendship I’ve had. It’s a very intimate friendship now. And I’ve changed – after being thrown in the deep end, I realise that sex is just sex, and humans are just humans. I do think, biologically, that humans should commit to one sexual partner. I believed that before and I believe it now. I don’t think that I could ever be in a relationship where sex was not meaningful, and important, and special to the two of us in a way that is not shared with any other human being. But I’ve come to realise that Brendan and I, for example, can commit to one another one hundred percent, but cannot deny each other the pleasure of experiencing attraction to other people. That is purely physical.
Sexuality is fascinating and fun and relationships that embrace that could potentially get a lot more out of it. It’s better to accept and embrace and share sexuality, than live under oppressive expectations. I hate the feeling of constantly worrying about your partner being sexually attracted to other people. It happens, and it’s better to be open about it and to enjoy sharing it rather than keep it from one another. Which is why, a couple of weeks later, we all repeated the experience. It was my birthday actually, and this time it was infinitely better. We talked about it beforehand, we discussed what we would like and not like, and everyone was less drunk and more comfortable.
Those experiences have opened me up to a world of alternative sexual experiences that fall outside the realm of strict monogamy. Currently, we’re looking for the opportunity to find a girl to join us. And now that we’ve slept with other people once or twice, I know we’ll be able to approach a similar situation with more maturity and certainty. This time though, no uncertain surprises, no depressive states and no burning jealousy. And at the very least, I’ll schedule it for a time when Brendan doesn’t fly home the day after.