Two Men and an Enby: Lessons learned from my first MMX Threesome

I’m not sure what you picture when you think of a threesome that involves two men but if porn thumbnails and titles are anything to go by, it’s probably rough, messy, maybe even a little graphic?

So what the hell am I doing here, being cradled gently by two men as they giggle into my neck?

Let me start at the beginning.

I’m a bisexual and nonbinary survivor of assault. While love and lust have found no gender preferences within me or within my partners, my sexual experiences have still been disproportionately violent, and a part of me learned to expect that outcome every time I engaged with anyone masculine.

When you’re nonbinary or gender non-conforming to any degree, I think you learn pretty early on that sex is often an act that does not always care for how you wish to be seen or held, and your needs and ‘pleasure points’ are assumed and taken for granted before you can voice anything. So not only are you misidentified with each touch, you’re also more likely to experience consent violations while your partners go on with little to no clue about all the discomfort and panic you’re battling inside.

So why did I say yes to this threesome? I think a part of me needed to be shown that men can and will do better, and that I was deserving of that effort on their part. But I also think a part of me felt stuck in this belief that I don’t deserve care and love, so it repeatedly sought out environments and scenarios that would confirm that idea.

So when two men approached me online and tenderly expressed their interest in having sex with me, I knew that would be it for me. Either this night would change my internal beliefs completely, or validate them, and I’d finally have an answer for what I deserved in this world.

In the weeks leading to our group date, we texted a lot. Both men would ask for my explicit consent before sending any images or sharing any sexts. There was zero pressure on me to reply, or keep the chat going, or even to share any images.

Hell, one of them just sent me memes on puppies and hilarious Tinder dates.

Surely this was just the calm before the storm, right?

We met for coffee before we decided to proceed with our threesome plan.

Both men asked me what I wanted, told me about their past experiences with looking for group sex, what they liked, what they didn’t, what made them feel safe and what didn’t. It started to sink in for me that this may not actually be the type of environment and reaffirms my defeated sense of self. This… this may just be something special. For all three of us.

When we finally met for our night together, they kept their word. Their hands stayed gentle but firm, constantly checking to see if I wanted them to slow down or speed things up. My body wasn’t grabbed; for the first time ever, it was held, nurtured, even worshipped.

They smiled at me, they smiled at each other, we laughed, we slipped off the bed and lost our balance and through every moment of it all, that smile on my face just wouldn’t leave. I was in a room alone with two men, arguably stronger and bigger than me, and they chose to put each other’s safety and mine at the top of their list.

 

Pleasure wasn’t an accident that night, it was a continuous effort by all three of us to give it to each other and to seek it from each other.

 

I no longer feel ruled by the fear that sex with men or masculine people or anyone bigger than me is inherently going to be dangerous or hurtful simply because I don’t deserve care or because ‘people get carried away sometimes’.

A choice was made that night- for three people to be vulnerable and naked together, and for all three of us to have our individual boundaries respected. If two men can choose to treat me and each other right, maybe there is hope just yet.

Maybe sex can be a place of roughness and pain only when I consent to it after all, and it is possible to be held with love even in the arms of people who don’t even fully know me yet.