Onesome, Twosome, Threesome

(Welcome! Since this is to be a website where I ask complete strangers to spill their guts about things that happened to them in the past, I suppose it’s only fair that I use this inaugural post to share an anecdote of my own. Please enjoy this story and all those that follow! with love, Stewart)

I was a virgin at the time. Most of the stories begin this way. Fresh out of college, Benjamin Braddock had nothing on me. I was horny, repressed, and overeager.

The terrible thing about being a twenty-something virgin – aside from all the obvious things – is that I was never able to approach a romantic relationship with the same sort of carefree nature my peers could. For me, every date, every girlfriend, every interaction with the opposite sex became loaded. Will she be the one? Will this be my chance to lose the scarlet V emblazoned on my chest?

Not long after graduation, I spent four months traveling around the country with a group of actors. Very quickly, I managed to couple up with the girl I considered to be the “hot one” of the bunch. I’d like to say this made me the alpha male of the group, but in truth, I think it just made me lucky. She was smart and funny and said she used to model, which I got a real kick out of. She may have modeled for the Toys ‘R’ Us catalog when she was five for all I knew. Didn’t matter. My young ego was sufficiently stoked.

She was cheating on her boyfriend with me, which I was okay with because it didn’t seem like that relationship was going to last. Furthermore, the illicit nature of our road-trip romance made it all the more exciting for both of us. We were sneaking around motels across the southern part of the country, making out and getting all hot and heavy. Surely, I thought, it was just a matter of time.

The day I blew it, we were in New Mexico (or was it Arizona?). We’d taken a break from the fooling around and were talking on the bed. She was telling me about this ménage-a-trois in which she had been a participant, and eventually the subject turned to my comparative experience.

“Have you ever been in a threesome?” she asked.

“Can’t say I have,” was my response.

Perhaps my voice wavered. Perhaps my tone was too ironic. Either way, she suddenly sensed something was amiss and delivered her next question slowly, looking me straight in the eye.

“How about a twosome?”

For a moment, there was silence. My heart dropped.

I should have said, “A twosome? No, never. In fact, I’ve never even been in a onesome. Never even masturbated. Swear to God.” She would’ve laughed and then I could’ve killed her with my honesty: “Okay, you got me,” I’d say, “I’m lying. Sure, I’ve been in a twosome. The real question is: When are you and I gonna start a twosome together?”

I think that would’ve been a great response: cool, confident, teasing her a bit. That’s not what I said. I couldn’t. It was too late to lie. In the brief moment of silence following her question, I’d told her all she needed to know. Had I been in a twosome? Of course not.

My eventual response was something lame. I probably said, “Not exactly,” and then she sighed and went into this whole bit about how she always seemed to be the “first” of whomever she was dating. I should’ve known right then that she’d never be my first.

Though our relationship would continue for another couple of weeks, I firmly believe it ended that night. She would eventually feel guilty about cheating on her boyfriend and, after a teary long-distance phone call, renewed her loyalty to him. This newfound fidelity would be short-lived, and in less than a month, she would be cheating on him again with one of the other guys on the tour. Apparently, the two of them had lots of sex.

Looking back, I can see that this girl was hankering for a dirty, illicit relationship, and while I would have loved to oblige her, she simply couldn’t feel dirty with someone as clean as I.

And this is one of the ways I didn’t get laid.

Submitted by Stewart Fox, Age 28, Los Angeles