John, 51
There’s still so much I want to do sexually, and I want to do it now while I still can
Group sex is a long-held fantasy of mine. When I was 19, I had a relationship with an older woman and we spoke about having sex with other people, but it never happened. Then I met my wife, and although we had a long and loving marriage, we didn’t have sex often or feel the need to explore. When she got cancer, we stopped having sex completely.
Since my wife died, I’ve reconnected with my sexuality. I’ve realised that my fantasies are actually available to me, not just something I live out through porn. And when I met Sophie, I discovered there’s been a sexual revolution going on – and I’d been missing out.
In the early days, Sophie would wake me up in the middle of the night to have sex and we’d whisper fantasies to each other. She told me about the group sex she’d had, and we arranged to meet a couple from a dating app, but Sophie got cold feet. Now we’re no longer in the honeymoon phase, Sophie has changed her mind about wanting to have group sex with me.
I’m on a sexual adventure and I want Sophie to come along with me. I feel frustrated because I want to fulfil my fantasies with Sophie, but now she’s reluctant. So when there’s a threesome scene on TV, or a history programme mentions how the Romans did it, it triggers a panic in me, and I withdraw. I get insecure, questioning why Sophie wanted to do it with her ex, but not with me. Does she find me less sexually attractive? Did she want to please him more? Am I not enough?
My urgency to have group sex is partly existential. When someone close to you dies, you realise life is short. I regret things I haven’t done and panic over what I’ve missed out on. There’s still so much I want to do.
Sophie and I are well matched mentally, spiritually and physically – apart from on this one thing. I don’t want to be consumed by these feelings of jealousy and regret, and I don’t want to lose her, but ultimately, we could break up because of it. For this to work, I need Sophie to be more gentle with my anxieties, so I can learn to accept her past.
Sophie, 50
If we have sex with other people, I fear I’ll regret it. We have such a lovely relationship and I don’t want to taint it
People often tell me I’m a sexual person, and I am; I love sex, I get great pleasure from it, but it’s not what I wake up thinking about. I have three teenage daughters, a cat, a dog and a job. I’m a single mum, so I think about what I’m going to feed my children for supper, and how I’m going to pay the bills this month.
Before John, sex was tangled up with a desire to be wanted and loved. When I was married, sex was almost nonexistent. My ex-husband was uninterested in me and addicted to porn. We didn’t even have sex on our wedding night. Since I got divorced 10 years ago, I’ve had an adventurous sex life. I had group sex with my ex during lockdown, when online sex parties developed into real ones. But we did that because he wanted to. He was controlling and I was under his spell. I don’t regret it, but I look back and think it was all wrong. It is not something I need to do again.
When I told John I’d had group sex, I think he thought: “This is amazing – we’re sexually compatible and I can live out my fantasies with her.” At first, I reverted to people-pleasing, but then I realised that this relationship is different – and I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to. John made me feel confident, comfortable and secure enough to put those boundaries in place. Which ironically, means saying no.
If we have sex with other people, I fear I’ll regret it. We have such a lovely relationship and I don’t want to taint it. I’m not sure John’s longing comes from a healthy place; it’s wrapped up in grief and I can’t help but think, is this just an immature fantasy that he hasn’t lived out? Group sex isn’t even that great. What we have is better and more important. Children don’t get every toy they want at Christmas, and they learn to get on with it. But men seem to fixate on their fantasies.
