Epilogue
Sage
A threesome with two hot Americans was not what I had in mind when I flew halfway around the world to forget my ex, but it couldn’t have been more perfect.
I flew home feeling refreshed, happy, satisfied, and free.
I also liked who I was when I was that confident and in control.
I was definitely going to do that a lot more back home, whether the guys in my hometown were ready for it or not.
A threesome turned out to be just what I needed, even though I didn’t have a clue what I wanted after the breakup.
I guess exploring one of my top fantasies of watching two men together and, more importantly, having the chance to share both men was exactly what my brain and body needed.
I mean, as far as fun holiday activities go, what more could a girl ask for?
We spent the rest of that fateful night and most of the next morning connecting in ways I didn’t know were possible.
Emotionally, sexually, and, even though it pains me to say it, spiritually.
We were kindred spirits, exploring new and exciting things together.
We laughed at the forbidden and taboo, and steered right into whatever felt good—whatever we wanted to do.
Flint and Jack were my perfect, if unconventional, rebound and summer romance.
I had to fly home the day after, but it wasn’t a tearful goodbye in any sense of the word. There was no desire to keep things going or see where it led. We’d explored it, done it, and loved every minute of it. Time to move on. It was a moment we all shared, and nothing more.
We had exchanged contact details, though, just in case. It was always nice to connect with people in a world more disconnected and lonely than ever, even though they lived several states away from me.
I didn’t think I would see them again, but it was nice to know that if I ever got that itch that couldn’t be scratched by any means other than being sandwiched between two hot guys, they would be there. Waiting with willing open arms, and rock-hard cocks for me to enjoy.
Flint
Sage was perfect. I couldn’t believe I’d managed to end up hooking up with someone who looked like my ex, but the way she acted was a stark reminder not to judge a book by its cover. She couldn’t have been more different.
The way she laughed was so carefree. How she pushed me to get with Jack, to explore my feelings, and more.
Feelings that had gone ignored and unacknowledged in my previous relationship.
It was the opposite of the petty jealousy my ex was filled with.
Sage openly wanted to share, not to hoard. It was a breath of fresh air.
It was also a reminder that there were people out there like me, people who wanted to explore. People who didn’t care what society thought, and thought that pleasure came before any labels, sense of ownership, or unquestioned devotion.
Jack and I fooled around a few times after that, but it wasn’t the same. It was still amazing, but that night had been something so good that nothing would match it. Each time helped me to become the man I always wanted to be. More than being bisexual, it went deeper than that.
I was generous and wanted a partner who was too. I wanted someone with whom I could admire other men and women, and not have my feelings or observations shut down.
The trip had been just what I needed to understand what I wanted from a relationship and why the last one had gone so wrong. I didn’t mind being monogamous, but I did mind being shut down and clung to. I knew that now, and wouldn’t compromise that for anything.
A day or two after I got back, my ex flashed up in a message.
Whining about how she missed me, and how, if we could just go back to how things were, everything would be right between us.
I couldn’t help but smile. That wasn’t her, and the man I was when I was with her wasn’t me. Not anymore, anyway.
I thought of all the ways I could have replied, all the ways I might have, had that holiday not happened.
In the end, I sent her something nice, but noncommittal.
I wasn’t going back. I was looking forward to my future, with whomever that was.
The past was in the past for a reason, and I had no intention of revisiting it now, knowing what I knew about myself and the kind of people I might find if only I were brave enough to look for them.
With my options now wider than ever, I felt like I just might be able to find them.
Jack
It was the trip of a lifetime. I was still sighing about it as I lay in my bed a full week later. I’d finally fucked Flint. More than that, I’d been his first. That felt kind of special, and kind of horny in all the ways I liked.
From the moment we finally kissed, I knew this was going to be a one-off. That was fine by me, I didn’t want a relationship or to be tied down in any way—unless Flint was using ropes and I was feeling especially kinky, that is.
When Sage first introduced herself to us, my worries that she looked like his ex were completely unfounded.
If anything, it probably helped him try something so new and out there.
Having a woman present while he explored his bisexuality probably didn’t hurt, either.
He’d certainly risen to the challenge in every way I could think of.
I guess that it meant it was easier for him.
To let his guard down in front of a stranger who wouldn’t judge him, while simultaneously exploring something new with a friend.
Whatever the reason, I was glad I was his first, and he was more than happy with what we’d done together.
Thank God. I was terrified that he’d wake up in the morning and realize he’d made a terrible mistake, and then the rest of the holiday would be very, very awkward.
After that night and morning with Sage, things had cooled between us, but there were still the flirty glances. The unspoken ’should we do it again?’ It all came to a head a few nights later when we got really drunk and ended up in bed together, just the two of us this time.
It happened once more before the end of the holiday, a culmination of giggling and sharing more fluids, but that was it for both of us.
There was something shared, something that we’d shaken loose from our system, and it was done.
I’d experienced my fantasy of taking a man’s virginity, and Flint had finally explored his bisexuality. Who could ask for more?
I was so glad I’d dragged him out there, despite the substantial damage to my credit card.
Making him happy in a way I couldn’t as a mere ‘friend’ was honestly something special, but it also made me realize something deeper about myself.
I liked sharing. I liked giving. Despite all the wild antics I got up to and the reputation I had among a few of my friends, that was who I was.
My first threesome had awoken that in me. I shouldn’t have to settle for anything less, and I wouldn’t want to. Perhaps that’s why monogamy had always failed me: I wanted too much. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing; it was just who I was.
I was polygamous by nature and, luckily enough, I knew exactly where to look to find such a relationship.
Years of building bridges with people who were also othered meant I knew a lot of kinky folk, and they would be more than happy to point me in the direction of a few like-minded, open-minded, polyamorous individuals.
Now the only question left for me, if I found myself in that situation, was ‘how many people were enough?’
It would be fun to find out the answer to that and discover my limits, if I had any.
The End