My First Threesome

Having just come back from a lil' snow boarding trip around The Dolomites, it got me thinking... Let me take you back to about 10 years ago. I had just finished my second year at college, sacked off any form of further education for life of a Chalet Girl in the mountains. It was the first taste of freedom had in all of my short 18 years of living.

It was me [the fake blonde], him and her [the real blonde]. It was an impulsive thing and happened ever so quickly, you know, like one of those moments where you’re literally caught in the spur-of-the-moment. At first, it was a little awkward, a little tense, a little uncomfortable and I was a little afraid to move. I was in complete unknown territory. Where do I go? What do I do? Why am I here? There were six hands, six legs and not one of us had a clue what to do with either. It was a stop, start, stop and start process for the first five minutes or so. It was cramped, it was stuffy, and at one point I got my leg stuck around his. After a while, it got a little easier. Things got interesting, gripping in fact. It was hot. It was steamy, and my heart began to beat so fast that it wasn’t long before I felt sweat dripping from every pour in my body. The energy was charged and chemistry was truly sparking left, right and centre. It was new, exciting, and the adrenaline was simply propelling me through. At times it was a little bumpy, and I found myself clutching onto the surface beneath me for dear life more often than not, and sometimes I even had to stop myself from screaming whenever it all got a bit too much, but that’s okay because they too screamed from time to time. In fact, having never experienced anything like this before and having had no expectations, I would have to give the whole escapade a solid 6/10. Sadly, four points have been deducted because right when we had gotten use too and in the rhythm of things; a rude, abrupt and dare I say bastard of a French ski chair lift warden bellowed “oi you lazy f**kers! Pull up the safety rail now else you’ll cause an accident when you get off in a second. Did you hear me? PULL IT UP NOW!” several metres away from us as we approached the doddery three-man chairlift ending, which completely ruined the ambience and end to our little jolly entirely.

You see, when I visualised my first invitation to a threesome, I imagined receiving some kind of hand written request scribed with a feather and quill, rolled up and sealed with a wax stamp, beautifully finished off with a tied red ribbon and hand delivered by the very hands of a royal representative dressed up in red and gold uniform as if they are some sort of colossal Christmas present that rode in on a horse and carriage, to really finish off the whole invite in true elegance and style. I did not however, expect the words,‘would you like to join us in a three-way?’ to leave my 50+ years old ski instructors mouth at the end of our ski lesson the very moment the doddery three-man chairlift came thrashing round the corner, that swept both him, a 70 something retired random ol' lady and myself up off our feet, before I could even process what my ski instructor had just asked of me and turn his polite invitation down. “A three-way?! Are you bloody mad?” I remember shrieking as high pitched as Taylor Swift does on stage from time to time (except way better), followed by another couple rational outbursts; ‘who the f**k do you take me for?’, 'sod right off mate!’ and ‘that tip was because you taught me how to intentionally go backwards down the slope, not for any other reason!’ to name a few.

It turns out a threesome/three-way can just be the lingo for a three-man chair lift. You can even get fivesomes and sometimes even sixsomes if you’re lucky.

Note to self: It’s true what they say, threes a crowd.