A couple of days ago, my friend was thoroughly enjoying watching me with his friend. Last night, his friend and I slept together while he was away. Today, he was furious. Apparently, his presence had been doing more administrative work than I realized.
He was the one who introduced me to threesomes in the first place. Over time, we’d started enjoying different versions of the arrangement: sometimes all three of us participated, and sometimes one watched the other two. Being watched was part of the excitement for me, and he certainly seemed happy with it.
So when his friend started flirting with me while he was away, I didn’t immediately see a dramatic plot twist approaching. We cuddled, one thing led to another, and we ended up sleeping together. I enjoyed it. The whole situation felt new, even though neither of us was exactly a new person in the arrangement.
Then my friend found out, and the mood changed considerably.
He was upset about being left out. What had seemed exciting when he was there apparently felt very different when it happened without him. I hadn’t understood that distinction beforehand, but I was getting a fairly emphatic introduction to it now.
His friend pushed back. If my friend could sleep with me alone, he argued, why couldn’t he? That led to a small argument between them, with me watching the arrangement develop an unexpected procedural dispute.
I’ll admit that part of me found it entertaining. There was something absurd about seeing two people argue over a situation we’d all recently been enjoying. The contrast was hard to miss, even with everyone annoyed.
Still, I wanted my friend to cool down. I liked what we had, and I hoped things could settle back into something comfortable.
Then someone commented that this wasn’t going to end well. I’d been laughing at the surprise of it all. Now I keep thinking about that comment, waiting to see whether my friend calms down—and whether normal is still available.
