To Swing or not to Swing?

I'm tucked into my usual Saturday spot, the worn old armchair in the corner of the tattoo shop where my boyfriend, M, works. Got my laptop, got my 16oz Americano. This is one of my favorite writing spots. I sit here and let the buzz of the tattoo machines and the smell of A&D lull me in to that good sunk-in fiction zone where the words flow best.

Today? I can't write worth a damn today. I was up most of the night crying on the phone with my beloved Rachel. She's the best. I hope each of you has a Rachel in your lives to sit with you while you lose your shit at 2 in the morning.

See...M and I had a threesome last night. The second one of our two-year relationship. The first was just last week, with the same girl. If you follow me on twitter you know the score. You're maybe shaking your head, starting to suspect what happened, knowing I brought this on myself.

I'm not new to three-ways but I'm new to them as part of a serious relationship. I'm new to watching the man I love stick his cock into another woman. Yes, I'm aware that that's exactly what I signed up for. I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm angry with myself.

If I'm being ungenerous I might say this all sprang from greed. I have an amazing boyfriend who I love. We have great sex. GREAT sex. But for most of the time we've been together that hasn't felt like enough. I get crushes on other people--mostly men. Crushes are normal and healthy. I know that. But I get crushes and go mad with wanting to act on them. I never did, but I had several close calls. I don't want to cheat on M. He deserves better than that. So finally the other week I told him what was going on. I told him that I'd been seriously considering hooking up with a guy at work, but that I didn't. I told him that I love him, I want him, I want to be with him, but I need to be with other people sometimes. Just for sex. Just to feel new flesh moving against me. Just once in a while. It took a lot of talking, some tears from both of us, and the solution we came up with was that we would take on an occasional playmate. Satisfy my need for novelty but make it part of our play together. We agreed that neither of us could handle an open relationship--we would get too jealous. We would each need to be a part of whatever the other is doing.

Sounds good in theory, right?

He couldn't get with the idea of another man in our bed. It had to be another woman. What I was really craving was another man, though. A new man's sounds and smells, a new cock, a new pair of hands gripping my hips... In my hottest fantasies I'm always taken by a stranger. It's the new, the unknown that I'm missing, maybe.

But fine. I like sex with girls just fine. I mean, there's no replacement for a good hard cock for me so I'd never want to just be with a woman, but a hot night with a soft girl every now and then? Who would say no to that?

So we had a plan. I was psyched. So was M. He kind of won the jackpot, right? His girlfriend practically begging for a three-way and she's cool with limiting it to MFF?

We hooked up with a woman we both liked. A friend of a friend. She's flirted with me for ages and we agreed on her right away. We took her out for drinks, told her what we were after, and she said yes. I was so scared to ask, but she said yes right away. We brought her home. We had a blast.

Here's what I realized this morning. The first time, M and S were mostly focused on me. It was mostly me and S, with M lending some encouragement and a helping hand or two, and then me and M with S doing the same. She and M kissed and touched. She gave him head. But they didn't fuck. I didn't consider that when I was congratulating myself for how well it went and how evolved and mature we all were.

Last night was different. It started off great. Light and fun. Me and S all tangled up, that good soft springy feel of girl flesh. M there with us, talking to us, telling us what to do to each other. It was hot. I was having a blast. Then something shifted. I can't quite pinpoint the moment. S pulled M in for a kiss and I guess that's when the balance shifted. I'll spare you (myself) the blow-by-blow replay but basically I ended up sitting huddled up in the corner on my own bed, watching M and S fuck, all attempts by me to join in kind of brushed aside.

I know. I should have spoken up right then. I should have stopped it. I was getting hurt and no one is supposed to he harmed by this. I was harmed. I didn't stop it. I watched them fuck. I watched them and they were closed off to me. I was forgotten.

He came inside her. A condom, of course, but he was inside her when he came and that killed me.

I pretended everything was fine (because I'm an idiot sometimes). I needed to process it, to understand what happened and what I was feeling. That's what I'm doing here. I never really know what I think until I write it down.

We put S in a livery cab. M kissed me and fell asleep, sated. I sat up and cried. And turned to Twitter for comfort. How funny is that? I feel like by carving out a space on twitter and now here in this blog, a safe space that's separate from my real name, I can be honest. I can really explore what I think. What's going on in my head.

So...I need to talk to M. We can't see S again. I know that much. I don't think I want another three-way. The potential for a third wheel is too much. So is the answer another couple so things are more balanced? Or to just dance with who I came to the dance with and be satisfied with the good man I've already got?

I don't know. Have you been through this? What do I do? So, so open to your thoughts. I'm leaning toward another couple but now I'm feeling gun-shy.