Threesomes vs. V-somes, or Tripods & Luck

There were a lot of great classes that came from the GRUE in DC, and as a facilitator (as usual) I was only able to dip into bits and pieces of them. Dragon-Girl’s class on humiliation play, Frozen Mersault’s extremely well-prepared class on consensual nonconsent, Murphy Blue’s homily on the Path of Rope, the whole range of classes that Ropetastic organized – the day was filled with teasing glimpses of great classes.

For all that, though, I did come out with a solid bit of knowledge: the difference between a Threesome and a V-some. That is, I had thought that I was fairly experienced in three-way sex – I’d had many chances to co-top or just plain co-fuck several female partners with their other male partners, and on occasion have had two women under my hands/mouth/cock as we enjoyed each other.

However, according the Imperial Princess Cookie Monster, most of those were actually V-somes: two people focusing on one person (the point of the V, get it?) as opposed to a threesome where all three people focus on each other. It’s an important difference, as it turns out; the point of a V-some can tend to get tired, or either tip feel neglected, depending on the way the attention is being directed. Sure, the same thing can happen in threesomes, but with three people all equally interested in each other, there tends to be more energy to go around.

No Shit, There I Was…

Which brings me to the After-GRUEcakes snuggle pile, which consisted of me with Curious_Zee snuggled to my left, Poetic Desires with her head in my lap and my leg wrapped comfortably around her torso, and R, another woman from the GRUE, snuggled up on my right. Just a puppy pile, all of us happily stuffed with pancakes and happy memories of the GRUE.

Then Zee started to kiss me, and Poetic started grinding her cunt against my heel, and my hands curled in R’s hair was making her moan…and pretty soon it had morphed into me licking Zee’s delicious pussy while heel-fucking Poetic and alternately hair-pulling/breast-groping R.

Y’know, like ya do. And of course, someone else in the room had to make the comment: “Yeah, that Gray, he’s just having the worst day ever! Lucky guy…”

I almost stopped. I almost stood up and shouted “EXCUSE ME?” Thankfully, with maturity comes some wisdom and some self-control, and besides, I knew I could blogrant about it later. So here you go:

Was I lucky? Certainly, as I am in so many ways. But in that particular moment? It was a tripod, first of all – none of the women were engaging with each other – and second of all, I was the one doing things to all of them. Do I enjoy heelfucking/cuntlapping/hairpulling/titgroping? Yes, certainly, on a level, but not in the direct, visceral, sexual way that I was delivering sensation to my partners. And so I wonder why I was the only lucky one in that situation? Why weren’t they considered fortunate?

Later, when the tables did turn, and two of them shifted their focus to giving attention to me, why weren’t they considered “lucky”? Personally, the fact is, we were all fortunate – lucky to be in that place, to have each other to snuggle, to have the ability to play and fool around. Hell, at one point another “serial” threesome happened where two other people began engaging with Poetic while she was engaging with me.

To quote the bard: Now, that’s fuckin’ teamwork.

What’s Your Beef, Gray?

I know, there’s a part of me that wonders that, too. After all, I should just accept it as part of my privilege, be aware of it, and let it go gracefully, right?

Fuck that. It bothers me because it promotes the patriarchal myth that men are sexual consumers and women are sexual suppliers. It invokes that stereotype of the voracious male appetite for coitus and the grudging surrender of the feminine body to that lust. It takes away from the right to choose to be the initiator, to be the receiver, to share in the joyful responsibility of sexual congress. By making me the “lucky” one, there is an implication that I am somehow taking advantage of these partners, that they are not getting anything in return. Worse, it implies a reluctant consent and the strong implication of coercion.

And I’m not comfortable with that.

So next time you are about to tell someone what a lucky bastard/bitch they are, maybe take a minute and look at who’s giving, who’s receiving, and try to congratulate everyone, ok?

Thanks. And yeah, incidentally, we were fucking lucky as anything that night. GRUEp sex, who knew that would end up being a thing?