All the couples I’ve had threesomes with aren’t together anymore, here’s my hunch

What it’s really like to be the third in threesomes.

Laura Roscioli is a sex writer based in Melbourne. Her fortnightly column on Fashion Journal is here to make sex (and the conversations around it) more accessible and open-minded. She believes that the best learnings come from lived experience, and she’s here to share hers — and other people’s — with you. You can follow Laura on Instagram at @lauraroscioli.

I used to work at this cocktail bar in my early twenties. It was the kind of place the ‘cool kids’ would come for their intimate birthday drinks or a first date.

The people that worked there were cool, too. There was the hot chef who barely looked in my direction but did ceramics on the side and would come to work with paint on his jeans. There was the silver fox bar manager in his late forties who sported the sexiest subtle mullet.

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And there was the tall, fair and quietly confident dishy, who would occasionally work on weekends. He was my favourite. We had a flirty spark but I always felt as though he was holding something back.

“He has a girlfriend,” his friend (the cute bartender) told me. I was disappointed at first, but things changed when he and his girlfriend came into the bar together one night. 

Often when you meet a guy you find cute’s girlfriend, the girlfriend can sense that you find their boyfriend cute, and there’s an immediate tension. But not this girlfriend. Instead of looking me up and down with suspicion, she actually flirted with me, harder than her boyfriend ever had. She was beautiful and I was into it. 

“I think they’re both flirting with me now?” I questioned the bartender. He shrugged as though he didn’t believe me. I almost didn’t believe it myself. 

About an hour after they left the bar, I got a message from him saying his girlfriend thought I was pretty and they were wondering if I’d like to go on a date with them. I showed the bartender, validating my suspicion and making his eyes widen, “Are you gonna do it?” 

I wasn’t sure. It felt like a big deal to witness someone’s relationship and intimacy up close. Almost like being invited to a party where you know no one, but everyone there has grown up together. This felt bigger than overcoming ordinary social anxiety. This felt like a serious vulnerability. But of course I decided to do it. I’d always wanted to have a threesome with a couple. 

We went on a date to a casual cocktail bar in the inner city suburbs, similar to the one I worked out. It was dark and there were drinks. I was super nervous walking in but it didn’t take long to get comfortable. He and I already had banter and I knew I found them both attractive, so there wasn’t any of that warming-up period.

We went from one bar to another, finally ending up in front of a fireplace with a margarita in hand. She leaned over and kissed me and suggested we “get out of here”. I appreciated her making the move and followed suit. 

Less than an hour later, she was massaging my back with an intoxicating essential oil concoction and going down on me. I was surprised and aroused by her forwardness. It wasn’t what I’d been expecting. I assumed he’d suggested the threesome, because that’s how the romcom story goes, right? Man wants a threesome, woman says “okay” or “just this once”. Also, we already knew each other and had a vibe, so I assumed he’d wanted to explore it and she’d said: “not without me”. 

I was surprised to learn it was the other way around. She’d been the one who wanted to open up their relationship, to explore together. She’d previously only dated women and wanted to keep exploring that part of herself, despite being in a monogamous relationship. Hence; me. 

I only have fond memories of that night. The sex was great and the manoeuvring felt effortless. I do, however, remember a little tension between them. He played more of a background role in the threesome, really allowing us to explore each other — and I remember thinking that he didn’t seem fully himself. 

The part that really stands out to me was the morning after. She insisted I stay the night and it was late, so I did. She got up early to go to work in the morning, so when I woke up it was just me and him. The vibe had shifted. We drank coffee and had some deep chats about their relationship and where he was at. I can’t recall the intricate details, but I remember feeling zero sexual energy from him. It was as though he’d put it on for the night for the threesome, for the experience she wanted, not because he was into me.

I felt for him that morning, because it was clear to me he just wanted to be with her. But that wasn’t all she wanted. 

Somehow, I managed to third wheel my way into the same scenario a few times, with different couples. And while all of the experiences I had were beautiful in their own way, there was always a central theme of imbalance: one person felt their needs weren’t being met in the relationship, but didn’t know how to communicate it. 

All of the couples I had threesomes with aren’t together anymore. I don’t necessarily think this has anything to do with the sex, but I do think that a couple’s threesome might often be symbolic of something deeper that needs to be addressed in the relationship. 

Not always, though. I gave a threesome to my boyfriend in our first year of dating as a birthday present, and we’re more in love than ever. But we had a threesome before we were in love and we talked at length about why we were doing it — purely for fun. 

My main takeaway is that couple threesomes are all about timing. Don’t have one in place of having a conversation. Don’t use them as a Band-Aid. Don’t go into it being dishonest about how into the third party you are. Or, if you find yourself in a scenario that takes you by surprise, communicate about it afterwards. 

For more on open relationships, read this.