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I met Akanksha on a dating app. She was cute and  curious. She had not been with a woman before but was eager to experiment. We went on a couple of dates and hit it off. I loved her body, her smile, the way she would question the world. Her childlike qualities would turn me on, although she was in her thirties. I wondered why it was okay and sexually attractive for a woman to be childlike.

Men behaving like children were such a turn off. There was something about her playfulness and vulnerability that made me want to possess her, to taint her with perverse sexual desire. She enjoyed the way I made her feel wanted, my skin, my curves and the way I kissed her softly. We would spend hours together in bed, caressing, chatting, kissing, having sex, laughing. We would also have very deep and dark conversations about fears, our hard wired pasts, pain and sadness. We would not meet very often but each time we did, we had our hands on each other. Sunsets would become banal and unnoticed after the first touch.

There was something about her playfulness and vulnerability that made me want to possess her, to taint her with perverse sexual desire.

Akanksha was already in two relationships and I had a crush on a boy. We both had a love/hate relationship with men and had plenty of options for both emotions. During our meetings we would talk about our other relationships, just like two close girlfriends would do.  I would get a little jealous when I would hear her speak fondly about her partners but would never tell her. It made me want her even more. It made me want to stand out in her pool of options. I wanted to be the special one. When I heard she had met another woman, I had to really hold myself. I wanted to ask so many things. Was it better? What did she do to you? Did she make you come? How did she kiss you? I just pretended it was like any other experience she had told me about. What right did I have to ask her those questions? We were not in a conventional relationship. We were both poly and bi. All doors open, we were supposed to feel compersion when the other partner met someone interesting.  I played along, I played the good poly partner.

 

 

I would get a little jealous when I would hear her speak fondly about her partners but would never tell her

One day we decided that we wanted to have a threesome. I had it on my bucket list of sexual experiences while for Akanksha it was just something she wanted to do with me. We started going through all our options. Checked out photos, shirtless photos, smile photos, photos of their apartments. We mapped locations and discussed how much time it would take both of us to reach a certain address. We commented on their styles, jobs, intellect, sense of humor, penis size and sexual proficiency. In the following days we sent each other options with summaries. It felt like an arranged marriage selection with the difference that both of us had to like the same guy. Akanksha liked muscular guys and didn’t really care about their intellectual capabilities but for me, personality was everything. We agreed that it should be someone one of us had ground tested before. We had both had bad experiences and wanted to make sure that at least for the threesome we had someone functional. Someone who would not break down under the pressure of two women. 

We had both had bad experiences and wanted to make sure that at least for the threesome we had someone functional. Someone who would not break down under the pressure of two women. 

Many of our male partners and potential dates volunteered. All eager to have sex with two women after having watched a bunch of lesbian porn as teenagers. Many didn’t know they were candidates, but their photos were exchanged on WhatsApp chats. I felt very empowered as a woman. I could finally objectify men in detail with another woman. Reduce their manhood to a sexual encounter. I had gone through this experience with many male friends when checking  on their dating apps girls’ hair, ass, lips, complexion, teeth, breasts, facial hair, thighs, feet. With women the checking of profiles always ended up with an assessment of the guy’s character, his personality, whether he was kind, nice, sweet, reliable. With women it was always ‘what did he say’ and not ‘how does it look’.

The experience of looking for a male third wheel somehow felt also more empowering than selecting a date for yourself because there was compounded female energy in the selection. It is very powerful when women get together to make decisions. The idea of using a man as a tool was so exciting. We would together decide what to do and how. We placed all the options in order of safety, skills, looks and apartment. Somehow where the guy lived was very important for us, not just in terms of location but also taste in interiors, and cleanliness. We chose together and we told him what we wanted. We wanted him to please us as an accessory.

We told him he would be made to stand in the corner of the room and be called when required. When we needed extra hands, or fingers, to stimulate one of us; when we needed a penis to play with; when we needed someone whispering in the ear juicy comments, while the other was going down; when we just wanted to be massaged after orgasming. He was not allowed to orgasm, to speak, to initiate anything. He was just an object for us. A wheel we would turn as and when we pleased. We didn’t need him to feel pleasure. He was just a ‘good to have’. 

When we needed extra hands, or fingers, to stimulate one of us; when we needed a penis to play with; when we needed someone whispering in the ear juicy comments, while the other was going down; when we just wanted to be massaged after orgasming.

We played for a few hours and then told him to prepare food for us. We were hungry! He served us on the bed and sat on a chair to watch us fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

 

 

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