I was pretty sure I had constructed the perfect situation for lurrrve. Music festival setting (the place where all great romances are conceived), cute guy (ever so rugged), and some primo… vodkas (nothing suss, officer). I figured I was in for a lovely evening of intellectual chat and potential dry humping. It was meant to be the start of something beautiful.
An awkward deviation in our banter, however, got us talking about exes and dating, and he asked me when the last date I’d had was.
“Ummm.” I paused. “This chick called Megan a few weeks ago.” To say he looked as if all his Christmases had come at once would be an understatement. Immediately he went in for the smooch, washing-machined my mouth and then gazed at me in excitement.
“Let’s go find a girl in the crowd for you and me to have fun with.” Dear readers, riddle me this: What is the overwhelming appeal of threesomes? I’m not opposed to the concept, but I hardly think it’s the holy grail of the sex world some guys (and gals for that matter) make it out to be. I would think the possibility of getting double-queefed on would be enough to make any guy run for the hills, but I guess Vicky Christina Barcelona deterred that in the minds of many. Damn those sexy Latinos.
Realistically, many individuals who identify as bisexual or any other deviation from the straight/gay model often find themselves the victims of opportunistic pursuit. There seems to be a general consensus that because ‘sexually deviant’ persons don’t fit the straight/gay binary, they’ll be a perfect fit to fulfil the sexual fantasies of others. Straight? Gay? Man? Woman? We’re open for business and take all sorts over here at Bisexuals Inc.
Not quite. There seems to be a bit of an issue with bisexuality being synonymous with promiscuity (a leg of the larger issue that promiscuity is synonymous with being bad). Promiscuous or not, few individuals relish in the prospect of being a tool in someone’s fantasy. In my case, I have little interest being one of two girls putting on a show for some schmuck with a hard-on (or lady with a lady-boner, for that matter).
I also think we would all do well to remember, daily, that sex is never as straightforward as it seems in Girls Gone Wild 5. Most porn actors are carrying out a highly athletic activity, rumoured to be notoriously hard work (pardon the pun). It’s not real; it’s a constructed version of sex and intimacy where actors are resorting to Viagra and pretending to enjoy getting cum in their eye. When, in actual fact, sex is meant to be intimate (whether with casual partners or not), awkwardly sticky, neither here nor there and most of all – fun.
Mr Music Festival never did get his double dose that night, but I didn’t tell him straight up it would never happen. If I could go back I would probably sack whack him in each individual testicle, smile and say: “See? Two isn’t always better than one.”