Some days I think I'm the luckiest girl in the world. I woke up this morning with a small tabby cat sleeping beside my head, my face pressed into an exotically beautiful woman's breasts and a man cradling my body in his arms. Our party clothes lay intermingled in scattered piles on the floor. Carlos got up first to let out the cat and we teased him about his morning wood as he walked back to bed. Soon our laughter turned to kisses, leading into yet another marathon mattress romp. Afterward, we felt energized and ready to start the day (with the exception of the cat, who was kept up all night). We drank strong, dark coffees and read the news in a three-person bubble bath. Then we whisked up some coconut French toast, got dressed and headed to the Oxford Theatre to catch a Sunday matinee.
Carlos and Judy share a sunny flat in the Hydrostone. Their home is a safe haven for me, whether I am stumbling into bed with them drunk after Gus' Pub, have an empty stomach, need a good chat or a place to regroup after a sour love affair.
My life wasn't always this idyllic. I've put up with my fair share of schmucks, suffered through dinners with the intolerable parents of my partners and endured long-distance relationships. My menage a trois with Carlos and Judy is simpler. I'm free to see other people. I don't have to attend awkward family dinners. I can always count on one of them to be my date. Plus, I know they'll entertain each other when I feel like taking time to myself.
I'd be lying if I said things were totally perfect. I frequently get the stink eye from other girls when I'm out with Carlos. They aren't aware of how open his relationship is with Judy and assumes he's cheating on her. We don't feel comfortable sharing the truth about our sex lives with our families, which makes for awkwardness when relatives show up unexpectedly and we're all in bed.
People just don't understand how such an un-kosher relationship is functional. Many are turned on by the idea of threesomes, but few dare to incorporate them into their everyday lives. It's sad really, because I think Halifax would be a much happier city if everyone had their own Carlos and Judy.
