After the quarantine ended in Paris, I met a lesbian couple that nearly broke up after meeting me. But I wasn't the reason, just the last straw that broke the camel’s back. I met the younger one of the couple, a tall brunette with appealing curves. She was as tall as I am. Very rare for a woman. I met her in a supermarket while I was looking for vegetables for a vegan recipe I wanted to try. I couldn't find the sweet potatoes, So I asked her. When I told her about the recipe, she got excited because she and her girlfriend were vegans. I wasn't a vegan, but I heard about the recipe on the radio and got curious. I had asked her without any ulterior motive, but soon we were engaged in a lively conversation about food and cooking. She told me that she and her girlfriend started trying out to eat completely vegan two years ago. How they supported each other to withstand the temptation of chocolate and meat. How they discovered a whole new world of recipes with mostly local and healthy ingredients. Listening to her joyful account of their vegan journey made me smile. I instantly like her. Obviously, that was a mutual feeling: She invited me to dinner.
We met at their place and after some talk we started to prepare dinner together. It was going to be a curry dish with sweet potato, pumpkin and various beans. As a little hospitality gift I brought a vegan wine my favourite wine dealer recommended. The girlfriend of my inviter was a sweet redhaired girl with a broad and loud laugh, who was nearly two heads smaller than the brunette. We had a lot fun while cutting the various ingredients. When the curry was ready and we sat down to have dinner, I was sure that my two hosts were flirting with me. Something I didn’t necessarily expect, but I didn’t mind at all. So, I jumped right into the flirting game and during dinner we exchanged a lot of funny banter and ambiguous remarks.
When we finished, we took the wine bottle and moved to the sofa while the redhead started a playlist with subtle music. She went to her girlfriend and wanted to sit down next to her. But the brunette took hold of her hands and pulled her gently onto her lap. She started to kiss her, while one hand slowly moved over her back.
I leaned back, sipped on my wine and watched them. How they kissed, how the redhead bend back her head and the brunette started to kiss her neck. After a while I heard a little moan and could hear her breath. The hands of her girlfriend moved over her breasts and while she started to massage them slowly, she smiled at me. I returned it with a smile of my own. Moments later the redhead was topless, and her moans got louder, her breath heavier, her eyes still closed. The brunette pulled her girlfriends head closer and started to kiss her passionately on her lips. Her fingers scratched over the naked back of her partner and the redhead put her head on her shoulder. And again, the brunette smiled at me. She must have given her girlfriend a silent signal, but they both got up simultaneously. She took the hand of the redhead in one hand and turned to me, offering her other hand. I put the wine glass away and got up, taking her hand into mine. She kissed me gently on my mouth and with a sassy smile she said:
“Do you need your shirt?” Without waiting for me to answer her rhetoric question she started to unbutton my shirt. While she was doing that, I looked over her shoulder to her girlfriend. She looked at me with a shy smile. She looked a bit lost. So, when the brunette had unbuttoned my shirt, I took one hand of each girl and asked them to show me the way to the bedroom. The redheads smile grew wider. I got the impression; it was a silent way to say thank you. But before I could think more about it, the girls pushed me gently into the bedroom.
It was two days after our dinner when I received a text message from the brunette. It was a short and rather distant message. She just asked how I felt about the night at their home. I hesitated. Usually, I prefer to be honest when communicating with people. But I had the feeling that some diplomacy was needed in this situation. There were some things I thought about on my way home that didn’t went as my two hosts may have imaged before. And I didn’t want to rub salt into any open wounds. So, I just answered that I enjoyed the whole evening and hoped that they felt the same way. I kept my answer vague and diplomatic – and honest. The night has been enjoyable for me. But I think, the redhead had felt uncomfortable and has been too shy to tell her girlfriend.
I first noticed it when the brunette opened my shirt and her girlfriend stood a little lost next to us, just watching. Throughout the night, I think she was indeed interested in me as a man. But she needed the moral and emotional support from her partner, which she didn’t get. The brunette concentrated most of her attention on me and neglected the redhead. Time after time I tried to get the redhead more involved, but the brunette was much more active and took the lead. Eventually, I decided that it was not my responsibility to control their behaviour as a couple in a threesome. So, I gave in to my lust and enjoyed whatever I was offered.
When the brunette replied, it was a surprisingly long text message in which she told me that they nearly broke up over a fight they had right after I had left their apartment. And it was as I had assumed: The redhead felt neglected by her girlfriend and had grown jealous throughout the night. That even exceeded my assumptions about her feelings. The brunette started to rant about how they had talked, and both agreed to look for an interesting man for a threesome. And now she couldn’t understand why her girlfriend was mad with her.
While reading the message, it was clear to me she didn’t understand the pain points of her girlfriend. It was not about the fact that they shared intimate moments with another man. It was about the fact, that the brunette concentrated all her mind and lust during this threesome on some else and neglected her girlfriend. That initiated jealousy on the redhead’s part. They clearly didn’t talk that through before they started looking for a man. Their experiment was a failure.
I thought about an answer and if I should express my thoughts. But the longer I thought about it, the more I came to the point where I decided not to answer at all. This was not my fight. It was not my responsibility to tell them how to communicate and to live their sex lives. Even more, if I answered I would take the redhead’s side – and that would be like adding fuel to the fire.
So, I just put my mobile down, walked into the living room and joined the sleeping cat on the couch.
