‘I’m once again struck by just how gorgeous she is’ (Picture: Getty)
Welcome to How I Do It, the series in which we give you a seven-day sneak peek into the sex life of a stranger.
This week, we hear from Margot*, a 29-year-old single woman.
Fed up of the apps, Margot has decided to ditch the search for someone serious – for now.
‘After a terrible (read: soul destroying) few months on Hinge thanks to my enormous talent for matching with the most emotionally unavailable men in London, I have decided to stop dating to find romance, and just have a bit of fun instead,’ she explains.
‘I’m more just interested in casual relationships with interesting people.’
Margot has only ever dated straight men, but after some unexpected crushes, she says she’s bi-curious and is about to embark on her very first date with a girl.
Without any further ado, here’s how she got on this week…
Thursday
I’ve been messaging James* for a few days. His extremely dry sense of humour has me intrigued from the off and, crucially for any lazy girl in this rancid city, he lives a mere kilometre away from my flat… something which I think may be handy when it comes to potential mid-week encounters.
Refreshingly, James has been extremely open about his likes and dislikes – one of which is feet. ‘Maybe you could send me a picture,’ he messages this evening, after I mention I’ve just applied some new gel polish.
Now, I’m no stranger to sending a spicy pic, but this is a new one, even for me. Sitting on my bed, I’m angling my freshly manicured toes this way and that, trying to decipher what he may find sexy… but just feeling a bit silly instead.
I have no idea what I’m doing here,’ I despair, as he encouragingly says there is no wrong way to take this bloody photo.
With a ‘f*** it’ attitude, I finally take a snap that I’m happy (or at least, what I think he will be happy) with, and send it off… all the while thinking, ‘What has my life become?’
‘Does that actually turn you on as much as a picture of my boobs or bum?’ I message. I’m not trying to shame James in any way, far from it – it’s more that I’m absolutely fascinated that my trotters could get someone going.
‘Unfortunately, yes,’ he replies, and I can almost hear the sigh that comes with it. I guess it takes all sorts…?
Friday
I’m still so puzzled by last night’s encounter with James, that I bring up the subject of feet at a party.
It feels slightly surreal that this also happens to be a fancy dress party, and so while I’m trying to have a semi-serious conversation about kinks and fetishes, the people I’m speaking to are dressed as Spider-Man, Lisa Simpson and two of The Powerpuff Girls.
But despite the odd context of our chat, I’m surprised to hear that a lot of my male friends just get it.
‘When I started going out with Grace*, I was so scared to tell her I was into feet,’ says Spider-Man, nodding over to his girlfriend who is, at this moment, wearing Cinderella’s ball gown. As the others agree, I vow to be more chilled about with James’ requests, however daft I feel doing it.
Saturday
In the interests of living my best life, another thing that I’m very keen to try is a threesome.
While I have only ever dated straight men, over the past year, I have developed two crushes: one is the non-binary comedian Mae Martin (it’s their face, it’s so beautiful) and the other, rather embarrassingly, is my friend’s older sister. The latter makes me act like a giggly teenager, and during the few times I’ve met her, I can feel myself going bright red and getting tongue-tied (cringe).
The threesome seed was first planted by a man I was dating earlier this year, and when I felt jealous over my best friend having one a few weeks ago, I knew I had to seal the deal someway… but how?
I opt to download Feeld – an app specifically designed to allow users to connect with others and explore their sexual desires – and set my profile to ‘bi-curious’. I quickly realise that there’s a lot of weird and wonderful stuff on the app, and feel slightly intimidated by some profiles – but then I come across a couple – Sam* and Jess* – who are looking for a woman ‘to have fun with’.
Swiping through their faceless photos, this pair are nothing short of hot. He is tall and broad, she is petite, with the most gorgeous long, black hair. I like their profile, and am thrilled when they match.
After the always awkward initial smalltalk, we get straight into business. It soon becomes apparent that I am speaking to Sam, and I ask how long he has been with Jess, what kind of stuff they’re both into, and whether he feels comfortable sharing more photos of them. Satisfied that our values match (and that I still think they’re both very attractive), we move the conversation to WhatsApp, where things get very heated very quickly, and we end up exchanging photos (thankfully avoiding feet this time).
Sunday
I receive another message from Sam.
‘Hey, would you mind if I give your number to Jess?’ he says. ‘I think it would be better for you to both chat separately for now, so you can really get to know each other.’
Of course, I happily reply ‘yes’, and eagerly await a message from her… which doesn’t come.
My internal thoughts start going a bit wild. What if Sam is putting Jess up to this, and she doesn’t actually want a threesome? Is she only saying yes to keep him happy? I suddenly feel very protective over this woman I have never met, like a weird sisterhood for what we’ve got ourselves into.
Thankfully, my phone buzzes at about 8pm, and I am relieved to see that it’s a sweet message from Jess.
She explains that this is all very new for her, but that the whole thing is actually her idea. After a bit of back and forth, it’s hard to explain it, but I just feel deeply connected to her.
She describes her fantasies in great detail, telling me exactly what she wants to do to me… and to be honest, at one point, I’m wondering where Sam is going to fit into the equation. To anyone reading the texts, we must seem like seasoned threesome professionals, so the fact that we’re actually both complete newbies is testament to how attractive we find the other.
Monday
All thoughts of poor James have gone out of the window as I continue to message Sam and Jess.
I’ve suggested a group chat, but each wants to speak to me separately so they can ‘get to know me better’ – and while this is more than fine with me, the constant flip-flopping between conversations is setting my brain on fire.
‘Mate, I’m not sure I can cope with this,’ I message a friend. ‘It’s like dirty mental gymnastics!! I am exhausted!!’
Of course, that doesn’t stop me. My 2am bedtime is becoming almost standard at this point, as I frantically write down everything I want to have done to me or do to them both – while also mentally adding a good anti-dark circle eye cream to my next Boots order to cope with the lack of sleep this pair are giving me.
Tuesday
I ask Jess if she and Sam are free for a date on Friday.
‘We’re both quite busy this week,’ she replies. I’m surprised by how disappointed I feel.
But then my phone buzzes again.
‘Sam can’t make it, but I’m actually free tomorrow?’
Eagerly accepting, I at first feel elated – but that’s short-lived, as a tight knot begins to form in my stomach.
It’s very destabilising to have identified as a straight woman for 29 years, and then in the Year of Our Lord 2023 suddenly decide that you might be bisexual. And on top of that, to then go on a date with a girl? Am I okay?!
I feel very weird about it all. Usually quite up for sharing funny stories about my dating life, I tell only three friends about my plans, and worry they’re going to disown me or have some kind of crisis intervention. Of course, I’m being completely stupid, and they’re all extremely supportive and encourage me to go for it.
‘This wasn’t on the bingo card for this year,’ I moan to one. ‘You know that feeling I’ve been having, that my life is a bit out of control at the moment… yeah, this isn’t helping at all.‘
I’m grateful that Jess is also having a slight identity-crisis, and feel sad for her when she says the only people she can speak about this to are Sam and I. The need to look after her comes back, and I reassure her – and myself – that it’ll all be just fine. Won’t it?
Wednesday
Date day has arrived – and with it, a sense of impending doom.
I’m so nervous that I cannot eat, practically choking on the bagel I force myself to have as we’re going for a few drinks.
Over the two years I have been single, I thought I’d gotten over these first date nerves. But while I’m clearly very attracted to Jess – it was my idea to go on this date in the first place – I suddenly feel sick at the thought of it, like I’m doing something wrong.
Maybe it’s because she’s a woman and it’s some kind of internalised shame, but I force myself to take some deep breaths as I get ready, stopping only once to have a minor breakdown about what I should even wear for a date with a girl… like it’s any different to how I would dress for one with a fella.
Walking out of the station, I give myself a very stern talking to, internally berating myself for being ridiculous and telling myself to get one singular grip. But all of those thoughts melt away as I see Jess grinning at me from across the road, rushing over to me and pulling me into a huge hug as if we’ve been friends for years.
We find a pub by the river and I go inside to fetch us some drinks… and the conversation just does not stop.
We talk about ‘normal’ first date topics (our jobs, our families), but we also discuss her relationship with Sam, how they met, and how they came to be in this weird situation. She speaks about her deep, base level love for him, how she knew instantly that he was The One, and how she knows that having this experience with me won’t change anything between them – only make them stronger.
I tell her that I find their communication very hot, and feel proud to have her in fits of laughter when I share horror stories about my experiences of single life – that warm, glowy feeling you get when you make someone you fancy laugh.
We discuss our sexuality, and I’m relieved that she is also bi-curious and not a fully-fledged bisexual – we agree that it makes us a better fit, and that it’s crazy we have always played down that part of ourselves for fear of upsetting past partners.
Towards the end of the evening and a couple of drinks down, I need a wee and she says she’ll come with me.
As we enter the toilets, she grabs my hand and turns me to face her – and I’m once again struck by just how gorgeous she is. Softly holding my face, she pulls me in for a kiss and I’m ecstatic. Look at me! Kissing a woman in public!
It soon becomes apparent that we both want more, but I gently tell her that we should wait, because I do not want my first encounter with a woman to be in the toilets of a grotty pub.
One of Sam and Jess’ agreed boundaries is that they cannot go home with someone without the other being present (boo), so we make our way back to the station hand in hand, and spend a good twenty minutes outside, having the sort of kisses that make my brain feel like it’s melting.
I’m baffled by how random this week has been: starting with James and the foot pic, and ending with Jess and how I could possibly fancy a woman this much. What’s even weirder is that I relay this information back to Sam, who finds it impossibly hot that I have spent close to half an hour publicly making out with his partner (men are very simple beings, aren’t they).
Jess messages me to say she had an amazing evening (eek!), and says she wishes she could have come home with me, which leads to us messaging long into the night again…
Thursday
‘Hey you. So I spoke to Sam, and he’s free on Saturday, if you wanted to meet up again?’
Gulp. So I guess this is happening then.
But although the nerves are still there, my heart can’t help but race at the thought of seeing Jess again – and we both know it’ll be even better with Sam in the mix, too.
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‘As we enter the toilets, she grabs my hand and turns me to face her…’
