These days, there isn't much two-way action I can count on. But a while back, after dating my wife for about a year, a three-way came shockingly within reach.
Playboy assigned me a story about how kinky you can get your girlfriend to go. And, believe me, being on assignment from Playboy gives you tons of excuses you never otherwise get.
I told Jo Ann we were headed to a bar. This was true. I just neglected to mention it was a lesbian one. Although she somehow didn't notice that I was the only man waiting in line who was born that way, the name of the establishment, projected in white letters against a dark wall in the lobby, eventually betrayed my secret.
"One drink and that's it!" she commanded as we entered the Girl Bar.
A woman with blonde braids dancing alone looked like a model. It was that empty-eyed, off-balance kind of dancing that suggested someone you didn't want to take advantage of because she might be drunk or a mental patient. (Perfect!)
"No girls!" Jo Ann insisted. That was a tall order, considering the lack of any other gender here. Nevertheless, I nodded, ordered two red wines, and proceeded to ignore her every wish.
The Girl Bar also distinguished itself in another way from every other bar I've ever patronized: an attractive female was actually staring at me. It was Drunk and/or Crazy Bo Derek. And she approached!
This was not a dream. I double-checked. Her name was Myla. I invited her to sit. She was staring at me, she said, because she was embarrassed to look at Jo Ann. "I knew if I looked directly at you," Myla told her, "I would break my concentration and I couldn't dance right." (We were apparently a familiar phenomenon here: the token hetero couple seeking a third.)
Jo Ann thanked Myla and uncomfortably introduced herself. "You're a good dancer," she told her. I ordered Jo Ann a second red wine, then suggested that we hit the dance floor.
Jo Ann declined, then pulled me aside. "It's not that I think sex with a woman is gross," she said. "I just love you so much and I know that sex with another person would get in the way."
I could have pushed further. (And in my yank bank, I always do.) But Jo Ann's eyes began tearing. There was not enough red wine in the world to pull this off.
Fortunately, though, the story didn't end when we exited the bar. A couple of days later, Jo Ann awoke and asked me to guess what she just dreamed about: "You and me with our girlfriend."
What would it take for you to consider a three-way with your guy?
Image via Jon Feingersh/Blend Images/Corbis