Why I've Decided Not To Have The Threesome I Was Planning

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Ever since I figured out what an orgasm was (and how to get myself off with a vibrating electric toothbrush), I've wanted to have a threesome.

I'm not sure why the fantasy was such a draw. I guess it was the idea of getting pleasure from two people instead of one. Of having two people worship my body. It seemed so titillating and taboo.

Some girls dream of their happily ever after. I used to dream about my happily ever threesome.

I dabbled a bit with group sex in college, but it was easy to get lost in a crowd. A threesome felt different somehow -- more vulnerable, riskier. And definitely more intimate.

I had so many questions about it. Would it be like the sexy girl-on-girl porn I frequently watched? Would I feel different afterward? Would I actually enjoy myself? Would I have to fake it if I weren't into the girl in our triad? Would I feel left out, like in some sad game of Twister, peering in like an unwanted bystander?

Although it made me nervous, I never stopped thinking about it. It stayed with me throughout my years of sexual exploration as a box left unchecked on my sexual bucket list.

I didn't want just to throw caution to the wind and hop in bed with a random couple I found on Craigslist. I didn't want to be the guest star who was dejected and cast aside once everyone had climaxed -- or worse, be rejected in some dimly lit dive bar when homeboy's girlfriend got cold feet upon meeting me face-to-face.

No, I wanted to be the one in control. I wanted to be the woman who went into the bar with her shy, curious boyfriend to picked up a hot tattooed chick at the bar and invite her home for a night of unbridled passion. My boyfriend and I would then put her in a cab and never see her again.

I convinced myself that when the right circumstances and the right guy presented himself for my perfect threesome, I would know it.

So when I met my boyfriend a little over a year ago, I thought I had really found him. He even mentioned wanting to have a threesome early on in our relationship, and he shared my vision of what the perfect one would be like.

A month or two after meeting him, I told him he was getting a threesome for his 30th birthday.

I immediately began planning our encounter in my head. It would be on my terms. We'd go to a bar. I would do the flirting and find us a girl. I'd been with girls before. This wasn't my first rodeo. The important thing was that I would feel in control. He respected that.

This was going to be amazing. We were going to have this incredible, sexy memory together. Even if we broke up, we'd still always have our beautiful threesome, like the sexual version of a prom corsage pressed in a scrapbook.

But as we got closer and closer to his birthday, discussion of a threesome went from exciting to awkward. I began having second thoughts.

And it's all because I fell head-over-heels, crazy-ass in love with him.

Within a matter of months, I went from avoiding labels to talking about getting married. Whether or not I was ready for a serious relationship, my relationship became serious.

I thought being in love would strengthen my desire to try new things, but suddenly, the thought of my boyfriend touching another woman went from filling me with lust to filling me with jealous rage.

I knew I had to tell him how I felt, but I was also nervous that he'd be disappointed. I kept quiet for a while, but one night over dinner, I finally laid it all out: my nerves, my insecurities and, most importantly, how I loved him too much to share him.

And he said he felt the same way.

He told me that when his feelings for me were casual, he had shared my interest in having a threesome. But somehow his feelings -- just like mine -- had changed. Now that he pictured me as the future mother of his children, he couldn't stomach the idea of seeing me with someone else.

"Do you really want to think about how we f*cked some random girl in a bar while I'm holding your child in a front-ways kangaroo pouch?" he asked.

No, I realized. No, I do not.

I'm not saying I suddenly think there is something wrong with threesomes. I don't. I think everyone should party on with all the free love that works for them and their relationships.

But for me, a threesome feels too serious and damaging to consider any longer. I am quite sure we wouldn't able to move on from it if we went through with it. It would always be this weird thing between us, eating away at us both.

If I weren't so in love, maybe I could do it. But I am in love.

So, I guess I won't be the cool girl in the bar picking up girl to bring home with her boyfriend. Childhood Gigi with the electric toothbrush feels a little disappointed. But it feels like the right choice for me today.