Honey, Meet SLY. She's Your Birthday Gift! - My First Threesome, Pt. 1

That’s how Beth* introduced me to her husband. As a gift for his 40th birthday. What they both didn’t know was that they were also a gift to myself for my birthday too.

I had tried for years to take part in a threesome with various lovers, but it never happened. Either we couldn’t agree on a person we were mutually interested in who wanted us both. Or we couldn’t agree on whether it would be a friend, an associate, an acquaintance or a stranger. Or once, as a threesome was beginning to happen between a lover and a mutual associate who he also happened to be dating, things tanked quickly. She and I were fine. In fact, we were topless in his bed making out like high-schoolers. The moment happened so organically. We were ready, but he was not. He froze. He chickened out. So I went home unfulfilled.

Fast forward, five years later and I’m living in NY, using OKCupid like a Master Siren Wolf meeting and dating remarkable men from Filmmakers to Bankers to Artists and even a BDSM Dom. One day I receive a message from a nice enough woman named Beth. I received the message because I didn’t realize the vibes I was projecting through my online profile.

You see, inside of me, there lives a five-year-old girl fascinated by bubble gum ice cream and glitter and red patent leather flats and unicorns and mermaids. It tends to balance out other parts of my personality, such as the Dominatrix, the Shark, the Siren and the Wolf. Therefore, when creating my OKCupid profile, I mentioned something about believing in unicorns. Here a tip to online dating profiles. If you are not advertising your interest in a threesome, don't use the word "unicorn." It's a code word for the third person in a threesome. I didn't know this, but it was a blessing in disguise.

Beth wrote me a simple, yet forward message. Her husband was celebrating his birthday, and she wanted to gift him with a threesome. Beth felt that my profile alluded to being open and experimental, and she wanted to know if I was interested. If I wasn't or if she was too forward or if I was offended, no harm, no foul. She wanted me to disregard.

I looked at her message. Looked at her profile picture and then read her profile. Minutes later I wrote back acknowledging my interest, BUT I said I needed to see more pictures of her and some of her husband because I couldn't stomach sex with ugly people. She laughed and emailed me more pictures. Everyday life pictures. Couple pictures. Head shots and more. My interest was peaked.

We exchanged numbers and agreed to meet in a hipster coffee shop in Park Slope, Brooklyn on a Sunday morning to get to know each other more, set some rules and to see what would happen. My coffee shop date with Beth was unconventional but flowed with ease. We made small talk and shared a bit about ourselves. She told me of her husband and kids. She mentioned how she was bisexual but in their ten-year marriage, it had just been him. This threesome was to be a surprise, and she wanted to know my ideas for how the night might go. We talked about dinner at my favorite restaurant, the hotel she wanted to go to afterward and what our sexual preferences were. We were candid. Could she call me a bitch? Was she into anal? Was choking allowed? What couldn't he touch? At the table next to us a mom with her double stroller was busy drinking a soy chai and feeding her toddlers orange cranberry scones. On the inside, I laughed at the scene.

By the end of our coffee date, we agreed to move forward. We liked our vibe. We both were attracted to each other, and what she said of her husband and based on his pictures, all systems were set for yum. We did have a few other rules. They never learned my real name, just my nickname, SLY. After the threesome, there would be no contact ever. And that would be it.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Beth would text me the progress of our plans.

“Dinner reservations are at 7. Meet us there and wait by the bar.”

“I booked a room at the Dream Hotel. Bring an overnight bag with you.”

“Wear your hair curly, like when I met you. I like your Afro.”

“What are you wearing? I'm thinking about a slinky red dress.”

As the weeks grew closer to our rendezvous, I told the main guy I was dating. We weren't exclusive, and we were open in our communications. Still he seemed annoyed that my first threesome wouldn't be with him. “Listen. I'm set to see them in three weeks. You find us a unicorn first, and you can be my first threesome. Otherwise, it's Beth and Derek.*”

Three weeks later and I was destroying my closet trying to find the perfect threesome outfit. I settled on a skin tight, skin tone, short body con dress. Why not? Next, I started packing an overnight bag, decided against it and switched to a clutch. I didn't want to spend a night at the hotel. I wanted to have a good night and then I wanted to go home to my bed and sleep.

Armed with my clutch, my tiny ass dress, and 7-inch stilettos, I headed to the train to meet Beth and Derek at Beauty and Essex. It wasn't until I was at the bar, had ordered a drink and was asked to present my ID, that I realized I didn't properly switch my bags. In my haste, I left my wallet in the overnight bag. I had only added my bus card, my phone, lipstick and house keys in my clutch.

Panic set in. When my panic sets in, it gets weird. All I thought was that because of my dress or lack there of, because I wasn't wearing panties because I had no identification, I was going to get arrested for prostitution. Don't ask me why. Somehow in my head, they walk around without ID in tiny dresses, and that's how the cops knew who they were.

The bartender saw my panic. “Ummm, I left my wallet in the car. But I have a reservation with two other people, and they are parking it right now.” The bartender was chill and went to serve another customer. I texted Beth.

“Where are you? I left my wallet at home. I ordered a drink. I can't pay. I'm freaking out.”

Beth came down the stairs in all of her glory and her little slinky red dress. Fresh blow out, makeup and everything. She walked over to the bartender and whipped out her credit card, “She’s with me.” As he charged my drink, Beth turned to me excited.

“OMG, SLY! I’m so excited. He has no idea. NO IDEA! And look at you. So gorgeous. Your hair! Everything. He’s going to love it. We’re going to go to the upstairs bar, and I’m going to introduce you. Then we’ll eat and then…” she said trailing off while winking. Beth signed her receipt and we headed upstairs.

As soon as we reached the second floor, I knew who Derek was because of his pictures, because of the way he turned to look at Beth and because of the glean in his eye when he looked at me. Beth had told me that I was one of his types. We walked over to Derek, and that's when Beth said, “Honey, meet SLY. She's your birthday gift.”

Derek looked at Beth, then he looked at me and then Beth again. He got it. He kissed Beth and then hugged me. “It's nice to meet you, SLY. I’m hungry. Let’s eat.” At that particular moment, I don't know if he was talking about the food or me. I also didn't give a single fuck.

....to be continued.

Sheena LaShay is a Wild Magical Woman, Intellectual Sensual Shaman, and Cultural Provocateur. She stirs up controversy and yum by using sensuality, spiritual eroticism and movement to inspire women and men to reach their highest potential. She leads workshops, events, retreats and group trips around the world focusing on community, exploration and openness. She can also be found on for SheenaLaShay.com.

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