My boyfriend and I were away for his birthday at an outdoor concert.

The stage was nestled at the bottom of a giant, grassy hill, surrounded by hordes of music lovers. My boyfriend, D, and I sat up on the hill, drinking beer out of bright green cans that matched the grass.

“What about that one?” I asked, not pointing, but nodding my head in the direction of what I was looking at. His eyes followed my gaze and noticed what I was looking at.

“She’s really pretty.”

I looked at him through my sunglasses, unsure if he was looking into my eyes or at the girl still, and smiled.

“Wears a lot of makeup, though.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

A girl who wore too much makeup was kind of a deal-breaker for him.

While we weren’t really looking at prospects for a threesome that day, thinking about the possibility was a turn-on. I’ve never been able to be so open in a relationship with a man about my attraction to women. While most men I have been with act as if it’s a turn-on or an instant ticket to a threesome, they eventually begin to feel insecure.

It’s as if I’m attracted to women because they can’t give me everything that I need.

It has never been the case that I was attracted to women because the man I was with couldn’t meet my needs. I’m just genuinely attracted to women. There is something uniquely different about making love to a woman—their taste, smell, the way they moan, and the way their body moves when they climax—there isn’t anything quite like it.

Being a bisexual doesn’t mean that I like women more or less, but that I find both sexes equally attractive.

D was the first guy who really understood that about me.

We would often sit and check out women at the same time. Most of the time, we were attracted to the same type of woman. It was fun, talking and laughing with him as we appreciated the beautiful women around us. It brought us closer together at the beginning of our relationship.

It turned me on to hear him talk about how other women looked and made him feel. I often fantasied about taking him to a strip club and watching another woman grind on him. The idea of watching the man that turned me on get turned on by someone else excited me.

Then one night at a bar, not long after that concert, a girl kissed me.

She was cute, with long, dark hair and a thick body. Not our usual type, but there was something about her that intrigued me. Her words were contagious, as she spent time fawning over me and telling me how beautiful she thought I was. I was enamored by the flattery and decided that this might be the night we could pursue inviting another woman into our bed.

With her hand in mine, I took her across the bar to meet D and see if everyone was comfortable with what could potentially happen.

When we had the chance to act out our fantasy, I was all in. With everyone on board, I dove in. Clothes began to be pulled from bodies and tossed to the floor. This girl I barely knew was kissing my lips, and then I would turn and kiss my boyfriend. Hands roamed my body, and suddenly, I was being laid down on the bed.

Everyone in the room seemed to have the same goal in mind—to make me climax.

I never asked if she had done anything like this before, but she didn’t seem shy or phased by being with a woman. Her fingers delicately massaged my pussy as her lips hungrily kissed mine. When I reached for my man and pulled him on top of me, she talked dirty and stayed involved. When I went down on her, she came and dragged her nails across my shoulders.

There was no awkwardness, no pause of trying to figure out what hand should go where. It flowed in a way no threesome had ever done before.

I can get jealous, but it didn’t happen this time.

This wasn’t my first rodeo or threesome, as it was. Often, I would use a threesome with a friend as a gift for the guy I was dating for a special occasion. It was always a win-win in my book: I got to explore a side of my sexuality I was intrigued by without getting into any trouble.

The worst one was with my college boyfriend and a friend. I had set it up as a Valentine’s Day surprise. After going out and drinking, we went back to our apartment and began to strip our clothes off. He was kissing her, and then he was kissing me, but I began to feel sick and headed to the bathroom. When I came out, my boyfriend was fucking my friend from behind, and everyone seemed to have forgotten about me.

That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I was planning the special V-Day night. It broke all the rules that we had carefully come up with before. Though the entire incident was blamed on intoxication, I wasn’t convinced, and it was one of the reasons I ended the relationship.

But when D and I were rolling around in the sheets with that girl, I didn’t feel jealous. That threesome was so much about me that I couldn’t have been jealous if I wanted to.

Being open and accepting of each other’s desires made the entire experience incredibly enjoyable.

While I think all threesomes should come with rules, and we should have probably set some guidelines, there isn’t anything I regret about inviting someone else into our bed that night. D’s accepting and enthusiastic desire to allow me to explore my sexuality made that night better than any other threesome I’ve ever had.

Our relationship was strengthened and became even more open and honest than it was before.

Knowing that we could explore having sex with another person together without any shame, jealousy, or judgment made me realize that what we had was special.

Finding someone who loves you for exactly who you are and what your kink is isn’t always easy. I wasn’t truly aware of how lucky I was until my boyfriend let me bring home another woman for us to fuck.

Now I want to explore more things with him, knowing that our relationship is a safe space for us to play.

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