Confessions of an Ex-Unicorn
Some things to consider if you’re thinking of exploring threesomes or polyamory in your relationship
When I was 18, a friend of a friend asked me if I would have a threesome with her boyfriend. His 23rd birthday was coming up, and when she asked him what he wanted, he requested a threesome with me.
She was really excited about the idea, and I’d never had a threesome before, but it seemed like an intriguing avenue to explore. After a few conversations and some serious contemplation, I agreed and a date was set.
On the day of, I was nervous and apprehensive. This was unchartered territory, but I was exploring my sexuality and open to trying new things. Throughout the night and months after, some red flags seemed odd to me at the time, but I never genuinely pondered until years later.
The day arrived.
It was clear they had both been drinking for some time before I arrived.
I was stone-cold sober. They offered me a drink, but I had to drive home later that night, so I declined. The threesome was a first for all of us, so I was sure they were just as nervous and wanted to loosen up. Alcohol is a pretty well-known aphrodisiac and “social lubricant,” so nothing totally off there.
It was awkward at first. I didn’t know either of them very well, and we all felt pretty inexperienced in this arena. We eventually slid into it. We became more comfortable asking questions and making suggestions of new positions and techniques to try. We entered into a seemingly natural rhythm.
An apparent preference was arising. They were both spending more of their time and attention on me.
There were hands and lips on me at all times, regardless of what I was doing or what role I was fulfilling. I was a change from the unusual and mundane, a new shiny toy to play with. They hadn’t had sex with anyone but each other for a couple of years at that point, so having a new person and a new body to explore was exciting.
A strange dynamic started unfolding before my eyes. When one of them would leave the room, the other would keep fucking me. And when they would come back, they would stop and pull away suddenly as if they had been doing something wrong.
When it was finally time for me to leave, my friend chased me down the driveway. She asked me if she could kiss me one more time because her boyfriend, watching from the doorway, would think it was sexy. It was a fun idea. So we made out in the driveway for a minute.
Afterward, she looked at me with sadness and desperation in her eyes and said:
He never kisses me like that anymore.
A couple of weeks later, they asked for another threesome. We all thought it was a success, so I agreed. It ended up not working out. He couldn’t get it up.
He was so embarrassed and scared that we would gossip about it that he texted all of his friends and told them he couldn’t get hard during a threesome before we could. (What? Seriously. What?!)
A Side Note About ED:
Guys, while we’re on the subject, I’d like to make an announcement on behalf of most lovers (I won’t say all, I’m not God):
We don’t care about flaccidity nearly as much as you do and nearly as much as you think we do. We aren’t ashamed, disgusted, offended, upset, frustrated, disappointed, uncomfortable, or amused. We’re more concerned about how you’re feeling than anything else.
And guess what? Sometimes I can’t get wet or turned on, no matter how much I love my boyfriend, how sexy he is to me, or how magical his techniques are. Shit happens. Also, sometimes I like sucking a soft dick. Sometimes my boyfriend likes it too. It’s still sensitive, and it’s a different experience for both of us. When he’s soft, I can put his entire dick and balls in my mouth and lick his perineum at the same time, which is CRAZY!
A hard dick isn’t the only acceptable dick.
Over time, the couple starting texting me, asking me to sext and send photos. Sometimes it would be both of them, sometimes it would be one of them.
Pretty soon, their relationship fizzled, and they broke up. Looking back on it, I wasn’t shocked. There were signs from day one that they either chose to ignore or couldn’t fix. Dynamics seemed off from the beginning, but I was just along for the ride.
A similar situation happened years later when I was in college.
A couple found me on Tinder and were looking for a unicorn. They wanted someone they could pleasure and admire and have fun with.
We talked over the phone for a few weeks, talking about our desires and our needs. Sharing photos and getting excited about a potential interaction. We made plans to grab drinks, but the plans fell through. His mom had a sudden health emergency, so our date was postponed.
Months later, he reached out asking if I wanted to reconnect, apologizing for the delay. It turns out they had broken up shortly after, and he was hoping I’d like to continue with him alone.
I didn’t. I was interested in the couple dynamic, not a single guy. Looking back on these experiences now, I feel a lot differently about what role I was playing in all of this.
I was a tool for redemption, a bandaid, therapy without the therapist.
They had problems and obstacles in their relationship that they were hoping I would fix. They wanted me to reignite something or mend something that had been broken or lost. But the thing is, their problems went way beyond me and my abilities. They were attempting to fill a hole that I was too small and insignificant to satisfy.
As a naive and inexperienced teenager, threesomes and polyamory seemed like simple, uncomplicated concepts. They don’t have to be complicated, but needless to say, I had a very two-dimensional idea about what those kinds of experiences and relationships looked like.
There’s nothing wrong with exploring threesome and polyamory as a way to balance dynamics or revive intimacy, or even just to explore pleasure and sexuality in a unique way to you. Every couple has different needs and ways of finding resolution and enhancing their relationship when things dull or mature.
But was I really going to be the solution for either of those couples? Did they even know what was wrong, or was I just a last-ditch effort to mend a ‘feeling’?
If you’re a couple that is considering embarking on a similar experience, consider these takeaways from my own lessons learned:
- Ask yourself why you want a threesome and what this dynamic could do for you. Is it for fun, excitement, pleasure, or adventure? Does monogamy no longer suit your relationship? Have needs changed? Do you feel like something is missing, or are there underlying problems in your relationship? If so, how will this fix it?
- Talk about expectations. Do you have any concerns? It’s vital that both parties feel comfortable. It can be tempting to fulfill our partner’s fantasies. Still, if everyone involved isn’t totally on board, the ship can easily crash later on.
- Set clear boundaries with everyone involved. If there’s ever uncertainty in the moment, ask, make suggestions, but don’t assume.