Okay, so me and my partner, we’ve been talking about trying something… spicier… for a while. Ya know, just curious, kinda tip-toeing around it. Watching stuff, reading stuff. Then one night, after way too many tequila shots? That’s when the idea for including another person got shouted out loud, real stupid and giggly. Like, “Yeah! THAT sounds fun right now!” Drunk brain logic, totally brilliant.
The Messy Planning Phase (Mostly Shouting & Pointing)
First thing? Finding someone. Easy to say drunk, nightmare to actually do. We hit up a couple apps immediately. Big mistake. Trying to type coherent messages while the room spins? Forget it. Sentences looked like toddler scribbles. “Looking 4 gud tym 3 sum fun ppl now drunk lol.” Yeah, super classy. We got a few replies. Mostly confused faces or weirdos. Then we got lucky – kinda. Hit up someone we vaguely knew through friends. Like, mutual Facebook friend level. Drunk confidence is wild. “Heyyy… you up? We’re drunk. Wanna come over and… hang?” Surprisingly, they said yes? Or maybe it was the tequila making us hallucinate. Who knows. Logistics were chaotic. Partner yelled into the phone. I tripped trying to find clean towels. Pure comedy. Or tragedy.
The “Showtime” Disaster Zone
Doorbell rings. Heart tries to jump out my chest. Opening the door is awkward as hell. “Hiiiiii! Come in! Ignore the mess!” (The mess was us, mostly). We try small talk. It’s painful. “So… weather?” Meanwhile, everyone’s swaying. Someone suggests more drinks. Big, big mistake number two. Poured more tequila. Straight. Because subtlety was dead already.
Transition attempt number one: Me trying to kiss my partner, while awkwardly trying to make eye contact with the guest. Partner bumps into the coffee table. Clumsy laughter. Someone, maybe me, slurred “Okay just kiss already!” to break the ice. It kinda worked? Sorta? It started messy. Clothes everywhere real fast. Coordination? Zero. It was like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach with three drunk people.
- Groping Gone Wrong: Hands everywhere, nobody really knowing whose limb was whose. Elbowed someone in the face. Apologies yelled mid-smooch.
- The “Who’s Doing What?” Debacle: Seriously confusing. Everyone kinda froze at one point, looking around like “Whose turn is it?”
- Jealousy Pangs (Surprise!): Seeing my partner get super into it with the new person? Okay Drunk Me did NOT see that little stabby feeling coming. Had to choke it down and pretend all was cool. Harder than it looks!
- Performance… Issues: Too much booze equals body parts not cooperating like they should. Awkward pauses. Shrugging it off. “Tequila’s fault!”
The Crashing Down Part (Figuratively & Literally)
Eventually, it just… fizzled. Kinda like a wet firework. Too drunk, too tired, too tangled. We basically just collapsed in a sweaty, confused pile. Guest mumbled something about an Uber. We mumbled “cool cool thanks bye.” Door closed. Silence. Heavy breathing. Partner looked at me, eyes wide like “WTF just happened?” And then? We cracked up. Like, couldn’t breathe, tears-streaming, stomach-hurting laughter. It was so absurdly chaotic and bad it looped around to being kinda hilarious.
Morning After Blues (The Real Kind)
Waking up? Oh god. Tequila headache times ten. Brain starts replaying scenes in HD. Cringe city. That little stab of jealousy came back, stronger now that I was sober. Had to talk about it. Like, really talk, through dry mouth and pounding temples. Partner felt weird too, some guilt maybe? Plus, the mess. Condom wrappers everywhere, spilled drinks sticky on the floor. Gross. Cleaning up felt like erasing evidence of a crime scene. Took days for the awkward cloud to lift between us. That guest? Ghosted us. Blocked maybe? Didn’t blame them.
So yeah, best drunk threesome tips? Honestly? Don’t do it drunk. Just don’t. It sounds like a wild adventure when you’re smashed, but reality is messy, awkward, and way less sexy. It’s all fumbling and confusion and potential hurt feelings amplified by booze. If you’re gonna explore, save it for when everyone’s clear-headed. Seriously. Take it from someone who’s still finding dried tequila spots.
