I had gone through the longest dry spell of my nonvirgin life while studying abroad. By the time I returned to the good ol’ U.S. of A, my sex drive had all but shriveled up and died due to neglect. I thought I had found a new sort of sexless nirvana. So this is how people go months, even years, without doing the deed, I mused to myself. It was almost calming. Zen. I could keep doing this.

Zoom to Los Angeles. I was telling my good friend about this new state of being as I was relaxing on her bed in her new apartment, but it didn’t seem like she was paying me much heed. Rather, she was busy peering around the space, poking at neatly folded piles of clothing in her armoire. “Whoa, looks like my boyfriend hard-core cleaned the place up earlier. We were pretty high and I joked about our having a threesome tonight … I guess he took it seriously,” she said with a laugh.

If there is nothing else you glean from this article, just remember this: Very rarely does someone joke about having sex with you unless there’s some shrapnel of truth to it.

Three hours later, I was reflecting on the wisdom of this adage as my friend tried to hide her nervousness by flip-flopping between “joking” and testing the waters as to my level of interest. But then the moment of truth: “Wait … let’s actually do this. I’ve never had a threesome before.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes … Would you be down?”

Rest in peace, newfound temporary abstinence.

One very quick conversation about boundaries and rules later, my friend strips and giddily runs into the bedroom. I turn around to see her boyfriend behind me so I think, fuckheregoesnothingokay, and kiss him. But because I feel weird as hell — I’ve never been attracted to him, and this is the dude my friend is convinced she’s going to marry — I yank off his shirt and run off with it in what I hope seems appropriate and sexy. Inwardly, I feel like a five-year-old miscreant.

Previous to this exchange, the only advice I’d received regarding threesomes was to find a way to keep myself busy. This sounds frantic, but it’s actually a pretty good rule of thumb to keep from being discouraged; getting into the sharing groove of three is a distinct departure from the single-mindedness of having just one partner. When I wasn’t being stimulated, I found a way to incorporate myself in the romp, enhancing my friend and her boyfriend’s experience in some way or form; in turn, I was never neglected for very long. We spent a good chunk of the time laughing and making bawdy small talk, and there wasn’t a single heavy moment throughout.

Apparently, it was good enough for them to want another go a couple weeks later.

I don’t know what it was about the following summer. Maybe that first couple of threesomes really set the mood or something, but nearly all the sex I had in the following months was in groups of three or more. The starts of such romps were sometimes awkward, sometimes not, but they had one theme in common: their focus on casual good times. None of my experiences materialized as the lustful throng of body parts that I had previously stereotyped orgies to be — my partners and I just wanted a playful romp.

I have found that I cycle between periods of abstinence in which I tell myself to wait for someone I care about — having gotten tired of a string of loveless hook-ups — and subsequent periods of hedonistic lovefests after having gotten tired of waiting. But somehow, group sex doesn’t leave that sour taste in my mouth that casual hooking up often does. From my experience, there’s generally less emotional intensity and instead a focus on just having some lascivious feels and fun. Maybe it’s because things aren’t personal, but people feel calmer — it’s not about getting to the passionate pinnacle of orgasm.

Rather, the intent is simply goofing and playing around with many sets of naughty body parts. And one huge perk: You can leave whenever you want. Done? Respectfully slip out. Your remaining partners will either continue or let things come to a natural end. And communicating what you want in this often-goofy, sometimes bizarre situation is easy, since things usually don’t get intense to the point where speech disappears.

Although I feel too occupied to emotionally invest in something serious at this juncture, this doesn’t mean I don’t want to still have fun in the sack. But sometimes I’m not into the intensity or faux-seriousness that might accompany your standard fuck buddy. For pure sex and giggles, I’ve found group sex to be a whimsical outlet for thrills and fun.