How a Threesome Changed My Life

Opinion

My name is Amorous Polly and a threesome changed my life. I didn’t plan on fucking two people the first time it happened. I was supposed to meet a blonde for an hour of drinks and small talk. Then I would head over to dinner with friends. Instead, I walked into her living room and…

Share

Share
Text size
+

My name is Amorous Polly and a threesome changed my life.

I didn’t plan on fucking two people the first time it happened. I was supposed to meet a blonde for an hour of drinks and small talk. Then I would head over to dinner with friends. Instead, I walked into her living room and fifteen minutes later plus a glass of Chardonnay saw me removing her panties then allowing her boyfriend to remove my top. Two firsts. I had never been with a woman, and I had never been with two people. I looked at her after I removed her panties and said “tell me how you want it.”

When I replay those events the thing that stands out is not her fun sized breasts or the way her boyfriend’s hair felt when I ran my hands through it. The clearest recollection I have was a feeling. Never in my life had I approached and experienced an encounter with the ease with which we loved ourselves within that hour. Being with her and him felt as natural as breathing. Like drinking water for the first time and knowing you would always look for it whenever thirst called.

I didn’t see her after that night. I was due to leave for another place, but I took the memory of my experience and something more meaningful. I took a freedom I would never have found by myself.

Where I’m from, its okay for men to take more than one wife. There are stipulations of course. He must see to it that none of them are left wanting for resources and affection. But the holy book also affirms that humanity ultimately means that the man will love some wives more than others. This is okay as long as he respects them all and never leaves the gap between his affections too wide between the wives.

When I was younger, the idea of coexisting with multiple persons felt as pleasant as the idea of choosing to have chicken pox. Fairytales and romantic comedies glorify the concept of “the one.” I don’t remember the exact date when happily ever after slipped into the mouths of me and my secondary school friends when we lay in our beds and read stories of strapping men and beautiful women with attitude, declaring undying love after one night of passion.

As I grew older the cruel joke increased and affected my interactions with love interests. What my friends considered flakiness and an immaturity was only triggered by my environment. Imagine being twenty, educated and raised to be a good wife someday, how do you look at your mother’s face and tell her you love two people. Even more incredulous was the love triangle in movies which always led to one party feeling miserly. In my reality, polyamoury at its best could only exist in the form of a married man with a side chick whose wife turned a blind eye as long as the mistress never tried to take her place. It seemed dirty to me, unfair because and someone was always suffering the consequences or seemed in the way of true love. Society places all these social barriers to loving the one; money, social standing, emotional capacity, religion, yet it continuously encourages people to hurt themselves and subscribe to hard expectations. All in the name of perfect monogamy.

Monogamy is beautiful, can be almost perfect and is a sight to behold when two people choose themselves and choose to cultivate their affections without extra parties. But I am not a monogamous person. And before my experience, I always believed it would never be okay to give and receive love that defied monogamous limits. Society had labelled me a “free spirit” and excluded my form of affections to the point where it was starting to hurt to love anyone, even myself. It was becoming an issue less about monogamy and more about conforming. Monogamy with its privileges and flaws had seemed like the most appealing idea, as long as it was practiced by other people. I finally understood why all these years I’d never been able to transition from single to in a functional relationship.

It wasn’t that I was emotionally unavailable. It wasn’t that I flourished as a player or as a guy once described “a Rihanna type bitch playing with guys emotions and acting unbothered.” It wasn’t even that I was lazy or immune or unwanting of affection. It was simply that I was designed, am designed to love in multiples.

I no longer believe it sinful if every time Kolade opens his mouth I want to listen to him discuss how machines work and later sit on the same mouth and have him tongue me out. Its not sinful when Abdul and I we talk about films over a fine Cabernet and he holds my hand when I cry for the umpteenth time at the ending of Moonlight. And when the sun hits Ebrubah’s spine in the morning, highlighting his perfect dark skin its not sinful when I think “this man has the most beautiful heart I have ever known.”

I am complex with parts that demand attention. But I have also learnt from loving in multiples how much empathy I am capable off, the importance of a connection, the beauty in getting to know a person and the incomparable magic that is giving yourself wholly over and over again.

My name is Polly. I’m not a whore or a player. I’m just amorous.

Responses

      1. Bkd
        You needn’t worry about this. I’m perpetually under your spell.

        Ps.
        Am I the only one noticing this? My words always change as soon as I post my comments. I used to think it was typographical errors or my part plus the auto correct but even when I proof-read before posting, my words still turn up differently from what I typed.
        Anyone?

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

+