My first threesome - that night, everything changed
This article is part of a series. To read the first part, click on the following link: Who am I really?
I'll start by saying something honest: before that evening, I had a fairly clear position on the subject. Not a moral refusal - I don't have many moral refusals in that area. More of a practical caution. Situations involving multiple bodies are situations involving multiple dynamics, and complex dynamics can go sideways in ways I had no desire to manage professionally. I had talked about it with a friend who works in Zurich in the same world, who told me: "Either it's the best evening of your life, or you spend two hours mediating tensions you didn't create."
She wasn't wrong. But she wasn't entirely right either.
Olivier - and Why I Said Yes
Olivier had been a regular client for eight months at that point. Forty-five, an engineer at an infrastructure consultancy based in Plan-les-Ouates, someone whose appointments always went well - without particular brilliance, without unpleasant surprises either. Reliable, discreet, attentive. The kind of client who sends a message the next day to say it was good. That kind of message, I appreciate more than some might expect.
We saw each other roughly once a month. That evening, dinner at a brasserie in the Saint-Gervais neighbourhood - his usual choice, he liked unpretentious places. And at dessert, he set down his fork and said: "I have a slightly unusual question to ask you. You can say no without it changing anything between us."
That opening already disposed me favourably. Men who begin by saying that no is acceptable deserve to be heard out.
He had a friend - not his partner, a friend with whom he had had an intermittent relationship for a few years, someone who knew his way of life and her own. She was curious. So was he, to see how it would unfold. He was asking whether I would be open to spending an evening together as three, specifying that he expected nothing in particular - just whatever the evening would naturally give.
I thought about it for a genuine twenty seconds. Not for form's sake. And I said yes for two reasons: the first was that I trusted Olivier not to turn it into a circus. The second was that I was sincerely curious.
Before - A Different Kind of Preparation
The evening was planned ten days later, on a Saturday. During those ten days, I thought more than usual about my preparation - not the physical ritual, which remained the same, but the state of mind. How does one enter an evening involving three people without setting expectations that risk being disappointed? How does one remain oneself in a dynamic with multiple people, where the balance is necessarily more complex?
I decided to arrive with no script in mind. For me, that was a conscious effort - I tend to anticipate, to prepare, to have an idea of how things will unfold. That evening, I deliberately left the page blank.
I chose the black lingerie from the first drawer - fine lace, understated, nothing theatrical. No strong message. Something that could go in any direction.
Her - The First Impression
I had been calling her Nora in my head from the start, because Olivier had told me her name began with an N and I had filled in the rest. Her actual name was different, but I'll keep Nora here.
Thirty-nine. Also brunette, which amused me - Olivier clearly had a type. Shorter than me, very dark eyes, a way of carrying herself that said she was used to being looked at and didn't mind. She shook my hand with a smile, and in that smile there was something at once warm and appraising - she was sizing me up while welcoming me, and she wasn't trying to hide it.
I liked that. Frankness puts me at ease far more than surface politeness.
Olivier had booked a suite at the N'vY - not the usual palace, something more contemporary, more neutral. A good decision. A space too loaded with habit might have complicated things.
The First Hour - Learning to Be Three
What no one tells you about evenings with multiple people is that the most delicate part is not what you imagine. It isn't the moment when bodies draw closer. It's the first hour - the one in which three people learn to exist in the same space with the same intention, without anyone yet knowing quite how it will unfold.
We drank white wine. Olivier was more relaxed than I would have expected - or perhaps he knew Nora well enough that the situation felt less new to him than to me. Nora and I talked, first through him and then directly, and I discovered someone intelligent and funny with a fairly dry sense of humour that I liked immediately.
At one point, she said something about my dress - a direct compliment, with no ambiguity about what she was looking at when she said it. And I understood that the first hour was drawing to a close.
What Happened - and How I Navigated It
I am not going to describe the evening chronologically and exhaustively. Not out of modesty - that's not my main concern. But because some things lose something when described too precisely, and that evening is one of them.
What I can say is that what had worried me - managing the dynamics, mediating tensions - did not unfold in the way I had feared. Nora and Olivier knew each other well enough that they had nothing to prove to each other. And with me, they both brought a kind of benevolent curiosity that made the space safe enough for all three of us to be genuinely present.
What surprised me, and what I hadn't anticipated, was my relationship with the other woman. I had assumed that would be the most complicated part - two women in the same room with the same man, all the potential jealousies, all the implicit comparisons. That is not what I experienced. What I experienced was something far more interesting: a form of feminine complicity within the space of desire that I had never encountered before.
At one point in the evening, Olivier had stepped back - he was watching, and that watching was clearly what he needed that evening - and Nora and I existed in our own bubble, with our own rules, our own rhythms. It was unexpected. It was good.
Two Bodies - What I Learned
Managing two different desires in the same space is an exercise in attention I had never practised at that level. Olivier and Nora didn't want the same things at the same moment - which is perfectly normal, but which demands a constant reading of what is happening, an ability to pivot, to redistribute attention without anyone feeling forgotten.
I discovered I was fairly good at that. That reading of the other's desire - which I had developed in one-on-one situations over four years - worked in a more complex context too. Perhaps even better, because the signals were multiplied and I am drawn to situations that demand total presence.
What I hadn't foreseen was how physically intense it would be for me. Not for the reasons I might have anticipated. But because when you are at the centre of a double attention - two people watching you, touching you, wanting you - something in the body responds in a way that exceeds the sum of its parts.
What I Would Do Differently
There is one thing that weighed on me slightly that evening and that I would handle differently. At one point, fairly late in the night, I sensed that Nora had shifted into something emotional I hadn't seen coming - not a crisis, nothing dramatic, but a sudden fragility that no longer matched the register of the evening. Olivier felt it too and handled it with great gentleness. But I realised that in this kind of configuration, areas of vulnerability are more exposed than in a one-on-one, and that you need to be ready to step out of desire and into something else if that is what someone needs.
I handled it well enough that evening, I think. But next time - if there is a next time - I would take more time beforehand to understand where the third person is emotionally. Not only their desires. Their state of mind.
The Following Morning
I stayed the night - which almost never happens. Not out of any particular feeling, simply because it was late and the suite was large and no one suggested I leave.
In the morning, Nora was already dressed when I woke up, sitting in the armchair with a coffee, reading something on her phone. She watched me get up with a calm smile. We talked for twenty minutes just the two of us while Olivier was still asleep - about nothing in particular, about Geneva, about a restaurant she recommended in the Eaux-Vives. A perfectly ordinary conversation after a perfectly extraordinary night. I liked that.
On the tram back to the Pâquis, I tried to put words to what I had been through. The provisional conclusion I reached: that evening had taught me something I hadn't been looking for and couldn't have learned any other way. About female desire, about how two women can share an intimate space without it becoming a competition. About my own responses in a complex situation.
Would I do it again? Yes. With the right people, in the right conditions. The list of conditions is longer than it was before that evening, but the answer remains yes.
Some experiences expand something. That one does.
Sofia
Sofia, 27 — Based in Geneva, she fully embraces her life as a luxury escort and speaks about it openly.
Through her stories, she shares her beginnings, her experiences with an international clientele, the advantages of the job (luxury, freedom), but also the more complex realities. She writes in a simple, honest way about what truly happens behind the doors of Swiss hotels.
This text was originally written in French. It was then translated to be readable in your language.
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