‘Threesomes: Everyone seems to be having them, so why aren’t I fussed?’
Daniel Harding ponders whether he's ready break down some sexual boundaries.
By Will Stroude
I’ve never had a threesome. So, when my friend mentioned it to me one Sunday afternoon, I visibly blushed on FaceTime.
“Oh god,” he said, “I wasn’t asking you for one. I know you aren’t the three-way type!”
I wasn’t sure whether to be insulted or flattered, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what ‘type’ I was and why I wasn’t threesome material. Could I ever do a three-way?
I’ve been called a prude a decent amount of times throughout my life, which in part is true, though I must confess I enjoy sex as much as the next guy.
However, since I was young, I’d always fantasised about a white knight, marriage and a house in the countryside. So, along with dark rooms, whips and poppers, threesomes weren’t on my agenda. I’d judged them and decided that they weren’t for me.
Basically, I’m possibly more vanilla than a Rossi’s ice cream truck and I don’t even like ice cream. But in times where sex was on my mind more than ever (thank you lockdown,) I started to think about breaking down some of my sexual boundaries.
According to a sample of my mates, a threesome is an act that should be tried at least once in your lifetime.
“You don’t know what you’re missing out on!” and “A threesome is next level euphoric.”
Apparently, everyone I knew had three times more experience than me.
I’d always thought that if I were to ever do a three-way, I couldn’t do it with a boyfriend. The thought of them enjoying someone else in front of me made me limp. So, being the non-three-way type of guy, I’d clearly have to be a guest participant.
Surely though, even this comes with its issues. If you choose a friend, would your friendship ever be the same again? And, if you choose a stranger, would you really be able to relax enough to enjoy it?
“It’s sex. Don’t over think it.” – Darren, 42.
Unfortunately, overthinking was my speciality and maybe for me, three really was a crowd. But in a time where open relationships were more common than ever in the LGBTQ+ community, perhaps I was the odd one out.
People in and out of relationships were experimenting with sex. It was, and is, incredibly refreshing that we can talk about it without being branded dirty or slutty, and rightly so. So why shouldn’t I embrace it?
Much like any sexual act, what I did know was that a threesome, more times than not, wasn’t going to look how it’s portrayed in a porno.
And I can imagine that there have been a lot of awkward three-ways in the past. I reference Vince and Stuart in Queer as Folk as my guide – thank you Russell T Davies for bringing them into our lives.
To be honest, TV was my only real point of reference of a threesome. That, porn and friend’s anecdotes. And maybe that was the issue.
But sex isn’t a naughty thing, nor is it a swear word. It’s about experimenting, finding what you like and dislike. Discovering passion and connecting.
Perhaps a threesome will never be for me. Maybe I’ll always stick to vanilla rather than the rocky road. And I’m ok with that. Because what I’ve realised is this, it doesn’t matter if I am the three-way kind or not.
My ‘type’ continues to change and so might I. What does matter is that we’re open and not judging people’s decisions. As long as it’s legal, not hurting anyone and safe, why shouldn’t we explore?
For now, I’ll save my first three-way for Matt Bomer and Simon Halls (I’m ready when you are boys) but who knows what will happen in the future.
I’m still the guy that wants marriage, the white knight and the countryside house. Maybe that’s enough for me? Perhaps we all just need to remember not to judge.
If two can become one, who knows what three could be…
Daniel Harding is a journalist and producer. Follow him on Instagram and Twitter.
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