Good Vibes 2019, Threesomes, & Aftermath
Who am I?
I’ve been a festival/rave junkie since my European Uni days in the early 2000s. I’ve been to a lot of them, seen a lot and done some interesting things. Malaysia has its fair share of music festivals. Some good. Some bad. A few amazing ones. Good Vibes 2019 will rank amongst the best for a different reason: — Threesome.
The Day
I took half a week off work (well, from Thursday anyway) and went up to Genting to check in a bit early, make sure we were rested, and stuff. We were an odd-numbered group and I’d agreed to just crash on a couch or floor or something — beats paying for an extra room for myself, right?
When we got through the gates and into the festival. As the odd one out, I lost my friends, in about 10 minutes. But I wasn’t worried. I wandered, I explored, I met some interesting people. I smoked a few. And just enjoyed the music. I was doing just that: — Enjoying the beat when she caught my eye.
The Lady(ies)
Pretty. Brunette. An amazing smile that had this energy that hypnotized everyone around her. Australian maybe. The kicker was her partner, whom she was partly dancing with, partly teasing right there in the middle of the crowd. If she was Australian like I figured she was, then her partner in love, sex, life, and crime was Eastern European.
I didn’t want to get stalkerish here — too late probably — but I hung back, I just watched them, enjoy themselves, the music, and basically each other for a few minutes. I admit that I let fantasy get the better of reality here. In the words of rap poet Fat Joe, “What’s love got to do with a little ménage?”
While fantasy got to both my heads, I remember the blonde waving in my direction. It’s a festival. This is how you make friends at these things. I went over and said hi. We chatted for a few. I offered to share a drink or two. Technology let us share numbers in a heartbeat. I lost them in the crowd at some point. But I didn’t mind. Festivals happen
In to the Night
Late in the night, I was winding down, when my phone beeped. Two gorgeous women in a selfie. That was followed with a short note, “Where you?” Some rapid-fire chatter later and I practically teleported from the Awana Hotel to the Delemen’s Hotel sky bar — Hugo’s.
Drinks and chat, a few joking toasts and I kept trying to meet both their gazes to figure out what was going on. What my chances were looking like here. I found myself thinking that they both didn’t look like the selfie they sent. They looked…radiant as if they were anticipating an adventure. We talked about ourselves, got to know each other. The brunette is a UI/UX designer and Australian. Her blonde partner is a fashion designer. Turns out they were university sweethearts, who’d started attending festivals back in their University days, and were going strong a decade later. I’m in my late thirties. Both had at least five years on me. Strangely. I didn’t mind.
Gold WHAT?
That’s when I noticed the telltale flash of gold on their fingers. Rings. Wedding. Rings. Well…damn…. Things just got interesting. They were married, had been for about a month. Malaysia and Good Vibes was a part of their honeymoon, which meant another week in Malaysia then off to somewhere else for another few days. That explained a lot. It explained that vivacity for life, the smiles, that golden glow the couple had around them. It’s that thing all newlyweds have.
The night flowed from there. Effortlessly as we talked and drank. It was strange and strangely comfortable at the same time. We shared hopes, dreams, our favorite YouTubers, and channels. Selfies. I am not one for selfies. I was comfortable enough to take a half dozen different ones with them.
We found a shared passion for gaming. They showed pictures, I shared a few. I started to get worried here, whether this connection was too perfect. Too good. We’d been verbally feeling each other out for almost an hour, and I didn’t want to bring up the obvious white elephant in the room.
Finally, they did. They came right out and explained what they both wanted: — A third.
Dream Come True
They shared that they had taken in a third on several occasions and the dynamic had only fueled their loves, passions, and desires, and taken things to a whole new level. They were doing this together. No fights, no drama, no break-ups. The brunette had been talking most of the time, but her blonde partner interjecting quietly and insightfully at many points.
It was one of those interjectory moments when I realized that I wasn’t in lust with either of them. I somehow wanted both and realized that if I could have both, instead of just one of them. If I dared.
They both realized my revelation with these coquette smiles to each other. They reached across the table, between the array of empty glasses and half-finished drinks. They placed their hands on mine. I’ve had my share of one-night stands and hook-ups. I’ve been toothin’. But this was something different.
That was the proverbial “it” moment. They were both openly inviting me into their relationship. Strangely, something about this felt very real. Very tangible. Not another random hook-up. It felt like they were letting me become a part of their lives.
We Don’t Sleep at Night
We left the bar and headed up to their room. As the room door closed behind us, I hear the lock turn with a sense of finality. Of predestination. Somebody put on music and things got started. This was supposed to be the craziest night of sex of my life. I’d gotten this far. I was ready to try anything. I let them set the tone, the pace, and the mood.
We moved from the doorway, somehow to the bathroom, a long hot shower together where it was impossible to keep things straight any longer. I just followed along as they kissed me, each other, and explored every centimeter of skin we could find. They checked in regularly to make sure I was comfortable.
Believe me. I was.
Keeping track of four hands was taxing, to say the least, and though it had its moments of awkwardness, I did feel comfortable, and safe. I think I gained a valuable insight into what it’s like to be shrouded in a new romance. Where you are perfect and in the eyes of your lover you can do nothing wrong.
I don’t know how long it took us to move from the shower to the bedroom, but I know that the emotions I felt that night will linger in the months ahead. They offered me a rare glimpse into a relationship, where love, trust, pleasure, and passion are literally a holy communion. The hours passed that night in a haze of lust, laughter, and sex. I had them both. We dozed. I had them separately. We had each other.
Oh… What…a…. NIGHT!
It was one night. Just one night. I don’t think I will ever know a night like this one, ever again. It was just before dawn when I emerged from the shower. She was awake, and she gave me the same coquette smile I had fallen a little in love with last night.
She offered to let me spend the day with them. But it was a Sunday. My normal work and life awaiting me on Monday. I had to leave.
Leave.
It really was the last thing that I wanted to do. I think she understood. We took one last picture together. Three of us, the mountains, forest, and fog in the background, the sun streaming in, the three of us smiling for the camera.
They occupied my thoughts all the way down, and all the way back to KL. I remember flipping through the few dozen photos we’d taken together. Repeatedly. My ice-cold coffee was now lukewarm.
I called them, politely. Thanking them for a wonderful and memorable experience. They replied almost a day later. The conversation was stilted. Different. Instead of talking and sharing like that first perfect night, I was the one that couldn’t stop talking. Before long: — Silence.
Back to Life, Back to Reality
My mind was in overdrive for the next few days, with fantasies and daydreams. The three of us. I was having dreams of some sort of threesome domestic bliss. Us going out to dinner or laughing at some random movie.
Suddenly, I was the nervous, anxious teenager waiting for the crush to message back. I checked my phone like an addict, waiting for the next fix, the next high. It never came. No new messages. But I did keep calling them.
I wrote this, and my first few drafts were, wrong. Having read and redrafted this, it clicked. This was not about rejection. That part sucked. It hurt. It’s rejection. Everyone knows what that feels like.
But I understood something. I gained a second, sharp and this time painful insight. They had a relationship of their own, with each other. What made that night feel so real, so emotional for me was their strength and the realness of their relationship.
It was not Blonde versus Brunette. It was not about both of them and having them. But it was their togetherness, their chemistry. It was getting to experience the strength of their love, commitment, and their bond to each other. I had been invited in to share and experience their romance with them.
Rap poet Fat Joe once said, “What’s love got to do with a little ménage?” Once upon a time, I thought I knew the answer to that question. I’ve learned the answer: — It is only when you have a connection, this strong, this stable, with so much trust, can you actually have love and a ménage.
If I’m lucky, I’ll find that connection with one day. And I know, I’ll be too damned greedy, and possessive, to share.
