DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I’m a 28-year-old woman and I’ve been in a polyamorous relationship with a man for about a year, and lately, I’m feeling more and more left out. My partner, “Nate,” is married, and his wife, “Sophie,” who also has a partner of her own, has known about and consented to our relationship from the beginning. I’ve had relationships where my partners and I weren’t exclusive before, but this is the first time I’ve had an actual emotional connection with someone who is romantically engaged with other people too.

At first, things felt open and honest. We’d all talk together, make sure everyone’s boundaries were respected, and check in about feelings. I’ve spent time with them together, stayed over at Nate’s when Sophie was out of town (with her knowledge and permission) and even spent time with Sophie one on one. I knew going in that Nate and Sophie were going to have history and live together and that would affect things, and that I was new to polyamory, so there would be growing pains. But over the past few months, it’s like I’ve become a side note in their lives. Plans get canceled at the last minute because something “came up” between them. When we’re together, he often talks about their shared routines or mentions inside jokes that he forgets I wasn’t part of, and I end up feeling like an outsider tagging along. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he insists everything is fine and that I’m “reading too much into it.” Sophie has been sympathetic, but I still feel like it’s sympathy for someone who doesn’t understand, rather than her being supportive. 

I understand that his marriage will always come first to some extent — we talked about this going in, and that’s part of the structure we agreed on. But I can’t tell if what I’m feeling is just part of the natural imbalance in this kind of relationship, or if it’s a sign that I’m not being valued the way I should be.

Is it normal to feel this excluded in a poly relationship where one partner is married? And if it’s not, how do I even begin to address it without sounding jealous or demanding?

Signed, Feeling Like the Third Wheel

DEAR FEELING LIKE A THIRD WHEEL: This is a case of “the question you’re asking isn’t the question you think you’re asking”, and I think there’s an important one you’re not asking.

Let me start with something fairly obvious: there’s a lot of discourse about polyamory and the various forms it takes and how to manage it. There are folks who will insist that married people “can’t” be truly poly because of the inherent hierarchy, while other people will insist that “relationship anarchy” is unrealistic and unfeasible simply because you can’t expect every relationship to be equal when one is brand new and another has years of shared history, shared responsibilities and financial and social entanglements. There are folks who think kitchen-table poly (as in: everyone in the polycule lives together in a communal or shared space) is The Way while others think it’s better for everyone to have their own separate place. Get five poly people in a room and you’ll have six opinions on polyamory and all of them will conflict with the others in some fashion.

I mention this, simply to point out that there are many, many ways to have a polyamorous relationship, and the ins-and-outs of all of them will vary to one degree or another. This is important because it ties into the question you’re not asking.

So, to answer the question you think you’re asking: it’s not uncommon to feel like you’re being excluded. That doesn’t mean that it’s normal. Feeling excluded the way that you do isn’t inherent to the sort of relationship you have, but it does happen, because people are messy and concurrent relationships can be complicated and difficult to manage smoothly.

A couple who has been together for a period of time is, inevitably, going to have routines, habits, experiences, memories and inside jokes and things that, due to the linear nature of time, you will not have been part of. That necessarily doesn’t mean you’re being excluded; it just means that you weren’t there at the time when these were being formed.

Feeling excluded, however, is often a sign that there’s an imbalance somewhere. It’s one thing to not to get an inside joke. It’s another if you feel like you don’t have similar shared moments with your partner or partners.

Similarly, a couple who has been together is going to have shared responsibilities and responsibilities to one another that pre-date new partners, and the weight of that history may mean that – all things being equal – those take priority. That, however, is different from feeling like responsibilities to or with you always come second. Relationships �– whether monogamous or not – are a balancing act. While it may never be perfectly equitable, it should feel that things are roughly equal.

And it seems that for you, it doesn’t. This is why “is this normal” is the wrong question; you’re asking if you’re being unreasonable for feeling this way. And frankly, I don’t think you are. I think it may be worth your time to document things and see if this is a “feels like” vs. “objectively is” situation, but the fact that it is bothering you suggests that there may be a need going unmet here. It may be that you feel like you’re a secondary consideration, or that you and Nate haven’t had enough meaningful time to create those routines and jokes. It may mean that you feel like he’s not showing you the same level of love or consideration that he shows Sophie. Taking some time to dig into this might give you some answers, which will help shape how you should approach it.

I do think it’s fair to tell Nate that you feel like things are out of balance and that it feels as though Sophie is the default choice and you’re the secondary consideration. I’m also not thrilled that he’s told you that you’re “reading too much into it”. This might well be inartful phrasing, where he meant to say that he doesn’t consider you to be secondary or mean to make you feel excluded, but said it poorly. But I’m not necessarily inclined to give him the benefit of the doubt. You know him better than I do, so you would have to be the one to make that call.

However, I think the question you should be asking is “does this relationship model in general and this relationship specifically work for me?” That, I think, cuts a little closer to the real problem. I suspect that the biggest issue here is that this is your first poly relationship and you’re entering into it as the newcomer in a relationship that’s got years of history behind it already. That can have the effect of making you feel like a junior partner, rather than someone roughly equal… or at least, where equal importance feels achievable.

I suspect that if you weren’t dating someone who is sharing the lion’s share of his life – not just his emotional connection, but his physical presence and living space – with another person, you wouldn’t feel the same way. You came into this with the understanding that he was married and lived with his spouse, but that isn’t necessarily the same as having the experience to know how that would make you feel or whether it’s the kind of relationship you ultimately want.

I think another question that you should ask is why you chose this relationship – that is, what your motivation was for agreeing to this. Obviously, you care for Nate, and you feel that it’s possible to have romantic connections to more than one person at a time. But did you agree to this relationship because it was the only way you could have a relationship with him, specifically? If that’s the case… I wonder if maybe the problem is the relationship, rather than the relationship model.

I’ve seen people enter relationships where they were – as Dan Savage terms it – “poly under duress”, and that can be a difficult place to be in. Feeling like the only way to be with someone you care about is to accept feeling as though you’re only able to have some of their time or company is rough, and it can do a real number on your self-esteem. Making yourself miserable for what feels like scraps of attention is no way to live, even if you love the person. The feeling of only being given secondary consideration at best by someone you love, and feeling like someone else is their primary concern is a lot like being stabbed with tiny knives. The pain each of them causes individually may not be significant, but it compounds quickly and can become unbearable before you realize it.

So, I think before you talk to Nate, it will be worth your time to sit down and really think about this relationship. Is this relationship meeting your needs? Is this relationship model – dating a man with a live-in spouse – one that works for you and lets you feel loved and accepted? If the answer is “yes”, then I think having an Awkward Conversation, where you lay out how you feel a more balanced relationship would look, is the right move.

But if the answer is “no” to the either of those questions, then I think it may be time to classify this relationship as a learning experience, and one that may have been right for you when you started, but isn’t right for who you are now.

Good luck.  

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: I don’t know if this is the sort of think you help with, but I don’t know anyone else to ask. I don’t trust the advice I got online and my friends tell me not to risk it. 

I’m a junior in high-school and there’s a girl in my chem class I really like. We talk sometimes, mostly about homework, but she’s funny and easy to be around. I’d like to ask her to get coffee or hang out, but honestly, I’m scared it’ll turn into a big joke at school. 

People at my school love to record everything. If someone does anything remotely awkward, it ends up on Snapchat or TikTok within an hour. Some of the videos have gone viral and ended up in cringe compilations all over the place. 

I’m not a popular guy. I’m kind of a loser, and the girl I like is VERY popular, and that’s precisely the sort of content that people at my school love to share. I keep imagining myself trying to ask her out, my voice cracking or me saying something dumb or her laughing and turning me down and then the video getting passed around with people calling it “cringe.” The idea of that happening makes me freeze up every time I think about actually saying anything.

My friends tell me that it’s not worth the risk, that I’m just going to get rejected in front of the entire Internet. I don’t want to feel like I missed a chance, but I don’t want to be famous for being a loser who can’t get a date. What do I do? 

Want To Be Anti-Viral

DEAR WANT TO BE ANTI-VIRAL: Going to be honest: I realize I’m old, but it’s letters like this that make me feel like graduating high-school in the mid-90s was like getting on the last chopper out of Saigon. The s--t we had to deal with was compartmentalized in a way that doesn’t exist now.  The “cool kids” may have had an underground gossip ‘zine, but at least it was restricted to a limited number of physical copies and the bullying couldn’t follow you home after school.

I get your fear, WBAV, because this is just a new twist on an old situation. I too was a loser in high-school and the few attempts I made at asking someone on a date tended to end up being fodder for mockery later – as well as a real case of someone pretending to be interested so they could make fun of me for asking them out in the first place. I didn’t have to worry about the world seeing it, but God knows that jokes flying around school before Allison could finish the last syllable of “no” made it feel the same way. So, I won’t say that your worries are unfounded. Nor are you alone in this; this fear is apparently prevalent enough that Rolling Stone published a piece about it last month.

I will, say, however, that while your fears are real, the only real answer is to push through those fears and ask her out anyway. If you want to ask someone out on a date, you’re going to have to take the chance that they’re going to say no, and that there’s a chance that you may look stupid while doing it.  

Right now, you fear two things: being rejected and accidentally being “cringe”. You aren’t going to believe me when I tell you this, but your fear of these potential outcomes is worse than the actual consequences. Fear has a tendency to build on itself and amplify things beyond reason, and it only gets worse the longer you let it go on. Trying to avoid the outcome you’re afraid of doesn’t make the fear go away; it makes the fear worse. You go from being afraid of getting rejected or being put on someone’s cringe reel to being afraid of the anticipation of the fear of those outcomes. So now you start trying to avoid things that even trigger those feelings – quite literally becoming afraid of being afraid. The longer this goes on and the more you try to avoid those feelings, the smaller the world you can live in becomes and the fewer things you will ever allow yourself to do or try.

In the end, this pattern of avoidance becomes all-encompassing, and only later on do you realize just how much you’ve missed out on because you were afraid to step up and take the chance.

This is why my advice is very simple, very blunt and very difficult: do it anyway. Be afraid, let your knees shake, let your voice crack… but do it anyway. Because the other option is regret. 

Here’s the thing: there will never be a “perfect” way of asking someone out that will avoid all embarrassment, there is no way of avoiding the risk of rejection and there’s really no way to stop people from acting like your having the audacity to ask out the head cheerleader (or whomever) is like some massive scandal of etiquette that would make the cast of Bridgerton flutter their fans in shock. It sucks, but there isn’t a way to ask someone out that doesn’t require that you make yourself vulnerable to rejection; there is no reward without risk.

Now, I absolutely get the worry about going viral and becoming Internet famous for asking someone out in a way that isn’t 100% suaver than James Bond ordering his third martini while winning another hand of baccarat. As I said: that’s not an unfounded fear. But the actual consequences if this happens are fleeting at best. Leaving aside that you would be going viral for doing something that is possibly one of the most relatable things ever – everyone has had those moments, myself very much included – but to be perfectly blunt: this would be the drop in a bucket of “cringe” content, and not even interesting cringe content.

I realize that asking your crush out feels like its world-shattering in its scope and importance but honestly, it’s pretty banal. In order for this to be notable or memorable, you would have to f--k up in ways that the producers of the Final Destinations would think it’s a little over the top. Asking someone out when your voice squeaks a bit from nerves isn’t going to reach that level.  

This is the sort of thing that will vanish like a fart in a windstorm, simply because “oooh, Billy asked out Marina” just isn’t interesting enough to hold anyone’s attention, especially for folks who don’t know Billy or Marina. There will be other people, doing equally cringe things and being filmed that will overtake this before fifth period French. And the odds that it will actually follow you or mark you out in any way shape or form are so remote that I’m not sure they make numbers large enough to measure it.

But part of what’s animating this fear is that fear of being “cringe”. As much as I hate to be a cliché Old Man of the Internet: there’re few things I actively dislike as much as how Gen-Z and Gen Alpha has made “cringe” something dire. The aversion to being “cringe” is ultimately an aversion to sincerity and an elevation of aura farming – attempts at performative coolness in the eyes of a world that honestly couldn’t give less of a f--k. Cringe is, at its core, other people being afraid of being sincere and authentic because it doesn’t match the curated ‘cool’ exterior that people think is a substitute for character and personality. It’s giving other people veto power over who you are as a person because they think it’s somehow embarrassing to like stuff. Or to sincerely desire something or aspire to something that is outside the narrow array of approved goals, desires or lives.

Christ, it was dumb enough when us Gen Xers thought cynicism and apathy were entire personalities. Watching subsequent generations take it to the next level just makes it even dumber.

This is why I think you should ask her out anyway – because it will make you face the fear of being seen as being cringe and realizing that cringe is a stupid thing to be afraid of. Cringe has power because people give it power, but that power is inherent on agreeing that sincerity and authenticity is bad and that doing things sincerely but imperfectly is a flaw of some sort and quite frankly: F--k. That. Noise. Refusing to feel ashamed for being human, for being authentic, for caring for something is a power move. Putting yourself out there, without first having to armor yourself in false nonchalance is ballsy. It’s a level of courage that the people recording those cringe compilations wish they had. Refusing to be held back by other people trying to control you because they are afraid of being caught being sincere will set you free in ways that none of these people can even imagine.

Don’t kill cringe, kill the part of you that cringes.

Now that having been said, I will give you a couple of tips that will help you feel a little less like you’ve got the spotlight on you and minimize the likelihood that you’re going to get your 15 minutes of shame.

First: don’t try to get her alone or pull her aside when you want to ask her out. That’s going to send a signal – to observers, but also to your brain – that A Big Deal. You already talk with her during and after class; that’s as good of a time to bring it up as any. Bringing it up in casual conversation well help you feel normal because it is normal. As a bonus: it will also minimize the likelihood that anyone will notice that you’re asking and decide to start filming.

Also, ask her out in person, not over text or DMs. It shows more confidence, and it means there’s nothing for someone to screenshot and post.  

Second: rehearse the scene in your mind and imagine things going well. Our brains can’t tell the difference between what we imagine and what actually happens. We respond to imagined scenarios as though they actually happened. This is why we spiral into panic mode when we imagine all the worst-case scenarios that could result; our brains are treating these as memories and not fictional scenarios. Rehearsing the moment in your mind and choosing to see it happen smoothly, uneventfully but successfully will help calm you down and keep you from freaking yourself out before you even open your mouth.

Second: in the moments leading up to asking her out and during, focus on your breathing. Keep your breathing slow and even – slow inhale, pause, slow exhale. When we get nervous, our hearts race, adrenaline dumps into our blood and we take faster, shallower breaths in order to oxygenate ourselves in preparation for fight or flight. But by breathing slowly, deeply, we break that autonomic cycle and force our heart rate to slow. You can’t be afraid when your pulse is normal; the body just doesn’t work that way. Your brain will take the signals that everything is fine and you will feel calmer and more in control.

Third: keep the actual ask simple and casual. It’s not that you don’t sincerely want to ask her if she would like to get coffee on Saturday, it’s that this isn’t a big deal. Her answer will not determine whether the world ends or not; it will simply change your plans for the weekend. Worst case, you go see the new Predator movie instead. The ask itself should be very straightforward: “I really enjoy talking to you; would you like to get coffee on Saturday” or “I was going to go to $COOL_THING this weekend, and I think you might enjoy it too. Would you like to go with me?” No need for a big preamble, no need to justify why you want to go or to take her. You may feel the urge to fill up any silence with explanations or disqualifiers. Don’t; they aren’t necessary, they won’t change things and they will just make you feel more frantic and nervous. You asked a normal and straightforward question for a perfectly normal and mundane reason. Keeping it simple will not only show confidence, but make it less likely that anyone will think this is great content. When you feel the urge to babble or fill in the silence, just pay attention to your breath and slow it down. You’ll be fine.

Fourth: if she says no, take it with grace. Just say “no worries, just thought I’d ask,” and let the topic drop. You may segue into upcoming homework assignments or asking about notes from the last time you had lab work to do, or there may not be anything else to say other than “see you at lunch”. A no may be disappointing, but that’s all it is.

Fifth: if, if, something awkward happens – your voice cracks, you stub your toe, you accidentally bump into a pile of books – play it off. Your voice cracks? Clear your throat and say “ahem, sorry, let’s try that again”. You knock over a stack of books? Take an exaggerated bow like you meant to do it before helping pick them back up – again, calmly, not in a panic. 

Awkwardness becomes a problem only in trying to ignore it. Calling out the awkward and making it clear that you understood that the moment was awkward breaks the awkwardness. I have literally choked – as in, I aspirated on my own saliva – trying to talk to someone I thought was hot. Instead of running away in shame – like I wanted to – I paused, cleared my throat and said “ok, sorry, I think I can do better, let me try that again,” then quite literally backed up ten feet and walked up to them like I was saying hello for the first time. This got a much-needed laugh and, later, a phone number; the awkward start became endearing because I leaned into it instead of trying to ignore it.

As an added bonus: this cuts down on the value of any mistakes as “cringe content”. Much of the value of cringe content is schadenfreude – enjoying someone else’s misery. If you aren’t acting like you’ve done something wrong or weird or cringe, it’s not going to be nearly as fun or engaging as content. This is why taking the “no” in good grace – if you get one – is helpful. Someone pulling their head down and running away in shame is funny. A guy just smiling, nodding and walking off like no big deal is… just a guy walking away. Whoop de s--t.

The last thing I will say is that getting comfortable with asking people out – in person, making noises with your mouth – will be like a super power as you get older. It’s a skill, like any other, and like all skills, it improves with practice. Getting comfortable now will make talking to women and asking them out on dates infinitely easier as you transition to college, post-college life and beyond. So, even if you don’t get a date out of this, the simple fact that you made the attempt and survived (for suitably high-school drama definitions of ‘survive’) will have taught you how not a big deal this is and how easy it is to do when you carve away the extraneous wibbling and worrying.

Just remember: someone saying “no thank you” isn’t failure or a judgement on you. It often has nothing to do with you at all. All being turned down means is that now you’ve gotten an answer, and you’re free to turn your time and attention to meeting someone who does want to go out with you.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com

DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: My wife and I have been together for fourteen years, and lately, we’ve been working hard to rekindle the passion in our relationship. Like many couples, we’ve had our ups and downs, and for the last couple of years we noticed that our sex life had lost its fire until it nearly went out entirely. Our libidos weren’t in sync, neither of us had been feeling particularly motivated to initiate sex with the other, and we eventually realized that we had gone for months without actually having sex.  After attending couples counseling, we realized that the main issue was boredom; the sex we’d been having had been routine, passionless and ultimately unexciting. Our sex drives had dwindled because when we did have sex, it had been pleasant but frankly dull. 

Since then, we’ve both been committed to trying new things in the bedroom, which has brought us closer, helped improve our communication and it’s brought our sex life roaring back. It’s been exciting to explore different fantasies and ideas together and actually putting them into practice. We’ve had a number of wild adventures recently that’ve been whetting our appetite for taking things to a new level.

Recently, we’ve started talking about trying a threesome, which is something we’re both intrigued by, but only recently felt comfortable revealing. My wife in particular has been interested, both in being with a woman, but with seeing me with another person as well. We feel it could be a way to bring some novelty and spice into our lives, but we’re also a little nervous about the logistics.

Neither of us has any experience with this, and we’re not sure how to go about finding the right person or how to ensure that everything goes smoothly. We’ve heard the various horror stories of jealousy or unexpected emotional reactions, of boundary-pushing and of course we’re painfully aware of the cliches of the suburban couple propositioning friends. We don’t want to introduce drama or hurt feelings into our marriage, and we want to make sure that we’re both comfortable with the experience. Plus, there’s the practical matter of finding someone who fits with our relationship dynamic.

We’ve heard mixed advice from friends, and we’re wondering if you could offer some guidance on how to approach this. What’s the best way to find a third who’s respectful of boundaries and aware of the complexities of a married couple exploring this together? How can we ensure that everyone feels safe, respected, and clear about expectations? And most importantly, how do we handle the emotional aspects, so we don’t end up feeling jealous or insecure afterward?

Seeking A Guest Star

DEAR SEEKING A GUEST STAR: I always find it a little amusing when people who realize how their sex life wasn’t meeting either of your needs seem to leap to threesomes to a point that it feels like there’s a script.

Don’t get me wrong, the old cliché of “life after death is as unlikely as sex after marriage” is a cliché because how infinitely adaptable humans are. No matter how exciting something can be when it’s new, it can easily become routine over time, and once it becomes routine, it can become dull or even tedious. And while I’m always in favor of sexual adventure and experimentation with your partner to keep things hot… the prevalence of threesomes as the chosen option makes me wonder if it’s become a meme, a way of folks dipping their toe into polyamory or something similar, or if it’s just the way people position it like the Everest of sex. ��I feel like some enterprising doctoral candidate could get a paper out of this.  

But that’s not the point; you and your wife are taking those positive steps to bring back the spark and find new adventures with one another, which is excellent and should be applauded. Planning a threesome can be tricky; there’re a lot of ways they can backfire on you, so let’s make sure you stick the landing.

Now as for your prospective threesome: there’s the logistical angle and then there’s the emotional one. Threesomes can be tricky, in part because they can involve navigating a number of emotional landmines. Part of the problem is that you may not even know those landmines are even there until someone hits one. Seeing your partner (or their seeing you) kissing someone else might not necessarily trip anything for you… but seeing them face down in another person’s lap (or riding them or…) very well might.

There’s also the fact that threesomes can’t be equally about all three people at the same time. There’s no practical way for everyone involved to be receiving equal levels of attention at all times. Someone’s going to be the focus of more of the attention, and there’re frequently times when a threesome becomes more of a two-some, with one person sitting on the sidelines. That can leave the person on the outside feeling neglected, excluded or jealous – feelings you definitely don’t want to have during this fun little escapade.

So the first thing you and your wife need to do – before you’ve even started looking for your prospective third – is to hammer out what you expect, how you want this to proceed in an ideal world and to lay the groundwork for how you’re going to deal with any emotional issues in the moment. You might, for example, want to agree that for the first time, making out and oral sex with the third party will be fine, but penetration is reserved for the two of you if it’s even on the table at all. You want to talk about how you would handle emotional issues that could come up without warning – including possibly having a safe word that would serve as pulling the emergency brake if need be.

You should also talk about where attention and focus is going to be directed. Are you seeing this, for example, as the two of you lavishing attention on the third person? Or is the goal fulfilling your wife’s fantasy of seeing you with another person? Talking about what want this experience to be about will help shape expectations, as well as how it’s going to proceed in the moment. The event tends to proceed a lot more smoothly if, for example, you know the point is for one person to get the lion’s share of the attention instead of playing it by ear and hoping you figure it out in the middle of things. That is a good way up the odds of hitting a landmine or two.

These issues are also something you should be discussing with your prospective third – ideally days before you all get together to play. Setting expectations and ground rules well in advance – and not changing them in the middle – is going to make your first threesome a much more enjoyable experience for everyone. I realize that this feels like a lot of talking and planning for sexy fun times, but this is a case where planning prevents disaster. Don’t expect the spontaneous threesome where everything just flows perfectly; that’s the fantasy version from porn. In the real world, a spontaneous “we saw you from across the bar…” threesome is often as fumbling, stop-and-start and occasionally awkward as the first time with a new person. Knowing what’s expected and how it’s going to proceed will make everything flow much more smoothly and enjoyably.

But of course, this also necessitates finding your third. And this is a place where, frankly, I think you would be better off with hiring a professional. Find an independent escort who works with couples, fill out their screening form, pay a deposit and start planning the date.

While there’re a number of options for finding a prospective third, from an adventurous ex you’re still on good terms with, to creating a couple’s account on a focused app like Feeld, hiring a sex worker not only ensures you find what you’re looking for, but will ultimately help you avoid a lot of potential drama bombs. Yes, it does take away a little of that “Cinemax After Dark” sexiness of trawling a bar or bringing it up together to someone you both know, but again: the fantasy ignores all the potential pitfalls that reality is heir to. Among other things, a professional escort is going to be more receptive to “here’s how we see this happening”; their job, after all, is providing the service you’re looking for. Engaging their services also has a much lower risk of triggering drama or feelings of jealousy. The two of you are far less likely to worry that they’re going to be some sort of threat to your relationship or being more into one of you than the other, the way you might with a friend or a stranger. And, just as importantly: you also aren’t going to have the question of “so… what now?” afterwards. There aren’t questions of “does the third stay over?” “Who stays in which bed or which bedroom?” or any related logistical issues. An escort’s there to do the job and to leave, quietly and discretely when the time’s up.

The key, of course, regardless of who you invite to join you, is to treat them with courtesy and respect – whether they’re a professional, a friend or a person you’ve met via the apps. The worst thing you can do is treat this person you’ve invited on this adventure with you as a toy or a tool. It’s dehumanizing, it’s callous and it’s a horrible thing to do to another person who’s made it possible to fulfill this fantasy. If you want this threesome to be a success and possibly the first of more to come (er… as it were) in the future: treat your guest star like a guest, not a sex doll. Even if you don’t see them again, it sets the tone for future engagements… which may include someone you’d like to see again. And again.

Good luck.

Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com