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December 1, 2005
Threesome 2: The Aftermath
I was angry after they left but mostly I was relieved. Every day that passed, though, I felt more and more pissed off.
Was I just jealous? Well, I was a little jealous but not just jealous and not really very much. (When I first met and played with the boy I had quite a crush on him but that passed as time went on and I realized the feelings weren’t mutual. I don't hold on to stuff like that.) Mostly, I think, I was angry because I was ignored in my own apartment. I really believe this is the one of the rudest things anyone has ever done to me.
If we had been somewhere else or I had a larger apartment, I could have discreetly left the building or feigned some kind of bowel disorder or even just gone to another room. My apartment is only one room, though, and there was literally nowhere for me to go besides out and that sure wasn’t gonna happen.
Anyone who could climb out of their own head for a second would have noticed their host was not having a good time and either made an effort to include me or asked me what was wrong or just simply offered to leave, no? Is that expecting too much from a friend? I guess so since I said I was tired at 11:15 and they stayed for two more fucking hours.
At the beginning of the night I let it go because the boy was obviously enjoying himself. Maybe that was a mistake—or just the first of many. By the time I realized how angry I was, I knew I had to keep my mouth shut or I would have started screaming like a demented queen.
I chatted online with the boy about it the next day. He just didn’t seem to get it, though. He blew it off with a laugh and said “I was in love!” I could picture little cartoon hearts and birds flying around his head. I guess this wasn’t really the time to talk to him. I stayed angry another day. And the more I thought about it the more things seemed wrong.
On Wednesday we spoke on the phone. I was more specific about what was bothering me but still wasn’t understanding a thing I was talking about. The boy seemed to think it was OK that I was in physical contact with BLT for maybe ten minutes out of five hours. I was getting really frustrated.
I realized at that point that the boy probably always has/had an agenda. That, in itself, doesn’t really bother me but I sure resent being tossed aside so completely when he sees boyfriend material walk into the room—especially if it’s my room. He’s been pretty honest about using me to snag hot bottoms he’d like to play with but this was really too much.
I told him that, no matter how much he wanted me to be aggressive and verbal, it still doesn’t feel right to me. Consequently, in threesomes he's probably always going to take the lead and get more of what he wants than I will. I suggested that we shouldn’t do them, knowing that this probably meant that we wouldn’t be having sex at all anymore. He agreed without appearing to feel anything. At this point his friendship is more important to me and seems, at least, to be more reliable.
He also said that BLT was “aware” that he was a “sore point” between us. Not really true. BLT is fine and so is the boy. It was their behavior on that one night that bothered me. I knew then that the boy had discussed this whole thing with him. I wasn’t very happy about that either and said so.
We went on to talk about other things but I wasn’t convinced he knew how much he had hurt my feelings and that still bothered me. Another frustrating day.
Thursday morning we had appointments at the same doctor at the same time. We had coffee afterwards and talked again. Talking to him in person seemed to do the trick. I think I got across how rude and selfish both of them had been on Monday. He said he understood. I finally said, “Try to remember that there are three people in a threesome!” I think he got that. But then again, he may just have been saying what I wanted to hear to shut me the fuck up. Who the hell knows?
Anyway, I felt better almost immediately. It still comes up in conversation but we can both joke about it now. I hate this kind of shit. At least with a boyfriend these kind of feelings seem more “legitimate.” With a fuck buddy or friend they can just look like silliness or sour grapes. I thought about it long enough to know that my anger was justified. My friend Margetty, who is certainly no fan of my sexual exploits, even said she thought I showed “remarkable patience.” That helped a lot. Fuck but I hate being an adult sometimes.
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