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Photo by Levi Guzman on Unsplash

Warning Signs Your Threesome’s About to Fail

What I learned being a married couple’s third

Sherry Mayle
Jun 5, 2019 · 5 min read

Recently, I wrote a myth-busting article asking why more people aren’t having threesomes — I’ve had plenty of successful threesomes and wanted to dispel the common myths that discourage most of you from even trying.

Of course, I’ve also had a few failed threesomes over the years, and from those, I’ve learned to spot the signs — here’s what it looks like when your threesome’s rotten and you’d be better off going home to masturbate with both hands.

You didn’t vet your partners.

I met Amy and Steve on a swingers’ website. They described themselves as “not into skinny girls” which was great since my favorite meal at the time was the McRib.

We exchanged get-to-know-you messages and scheduled a Skype date. I should’ve been watching their faces via webcam like I was Mark Cuban from Shark Tank trying to determine each partner’s dedication to a future business venture: Are they both legit? Does anyone look like they’re being pushed into this? Do they just want to beat me up and steal my money?

Instead, I put on red lipstick and twirled my hair, careful to only let the webcam get at me from my best angles. When Amy was quiet and Steve did all the talking, I barely noticed because I was too busy trying to make sure my cleavage was in view while my double chin wasn’t (the struggle is real.)

You’re meeting somewhere weird.

Steve and Amy chose a strip club for our first in-person meet. Getting to know someone in a strip club is distracting because of all the loud music and my boobs-induced-attention-deficit-disorder (BI-ADD).

I got the feeling they’d chosen the strip club not because it was the best venue, but as reinforcement for the purpose of our meet, like I might forget why the three of us were there without the strippers and naked boobies to remind me.

A better location would’ve been somewhere without boobs that was bright enough so that everyone felt safe meeting other weirdos from the internet, but dark enough that we couldn’t count each others’ pores. And somewhere with plenty of seating — I promise you there’s nothing more awkward than three people standing in a circle waiting to have sex with each other.

You’re somebody’s birthday present.

If you haven’t already asked, a first meet is an excellent time to find out why the couple wants to have a threesome. Here are a few of the wrong reasons:

“If I let my partner sleep with someone else, that’ll keep them from cheating on me!”

“We haven’t had sex in eighty years.”

“It’s his birthday!”

I knew it wasn’t Steve’s birthday, so I couldn’t figure out what Amy and Steve wanted from this experience as a couple. Steve’s motives were clear — he wanted to have sex with two women. But what did Amy want? She insisted she was attracted to ladies too but seemed too shy to do more than hold my hand.

I asked if they’d ever slept with another woman. Steve was cagey and disappeared to the bar to get drinks. Amy mumbled into her plastic cup that they’d had a relationship with another woman in the past but it didn’t work out.

Steve came back and started rubbing my thigh, probably whispered in my ear something about McRibs, and I forgot what we’d been talking about.

You’re afraid you’ll forget the rules.

Some couples have rules about what their partner can and can’t do with the third person.

Rules like, “Hey, use a condom because we don’t want your kids or viral infections,” are helpful!

Other rules, like, “You can put my husband’s left testicle in your mouth, but not his right — that’s one’s mine!” can signal jealousy or a reluctant partner.

At the strip club, Amy told me that she and Steve had one rule in addition to the one about the condom: I wasn’t allowed to kiss Steve.

All my threesomes up until then had been with single people — I thought maybe it was normal for married people to have more rules. Steve had a mild case of halitosis anyway, so, 10–4, good buddy.

You’re a man down.

We left the strip club after a few hours to go back to Amy and Steve’s place. Standing between them in their living room, Steve kissed the back of my neck and ran his hands under my shirt while I made out with Amy. It was hot and exactly what I’d come home with them for.

Until Amy pulled away and disappeared to the bathroom.

For the next twenty minutes, I played keep-away-the-octopus with Steve, who claimed to just want to cuddle, but then grew six more arms.

Somebody’s crying.

I should’ve left, but I still thought there was a chance this might work out — Amy had been really convincing in the car on the way home when she’d pulled me onto her lap and told me everything she and Steve had planned for the night.

“I’m going to check on Amy,” I announced, swatting away the last of Steve’s tentacles.

Before I got to the bathroom door, Amy opened it. Her eyes were red.

“Cigarette smoke from before,” she said.

I let her kiss me and lead me to the bedroom.

Lying in the middle of their bed, kissing Amy while Steve’s face was buried between my legs, I noticed Amy’s lips start to taste like salt water.

“Are you crying?” I whispered.

She bolted, taking the sheet with her. This time I tried to follow, but she’d locked herself in the bathroom again. I put on my clothes and went to the living room where I could sit on the couch and listen to her and Steve argue through the wall.

AMY: “You said you wouldn’t kiss her!”

STEVE: “I didn’t!”

AMY: “I could tell you wanted to! I could tell the whole time! Get away from me!”

AMY: “… Is she still out there?”

I was wearing blinders when it came to Amy and Steve. I liked them so much (read: I was so dumb and desperate for acceptance) that I ignored every red flag.

In case you too are a moron (or happen to know one), I made this handy flowchart to summarize.

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Want more funny?

Sex Stories No One Asked For

This publication’s title is self-explanatory.

Sherry Mayle

Written by

west virginia hillbilly turned california stoner. comedy writer. one weird lady. sherrymayle.com

Sex Stories No One Asked For

This publication’s title is self-explanatory.

Sherry Mayle

Written by

west virginia hillbilly turned california stoner. comedy writer. one weird lady. sherrymayle.com

Sex Stories No One Asked For

This publication’s title is self-explanatory.

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