An unexpected menage a trois

The special member essay this month is about something that happened on my travels across the world as a digital nomad some 8 years ago.

Reading this story today, now back in Europe, I’m wondering, how the hell can I make this happen again? (WARNING: explicit content). So without further ado…

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Several years ago, I found myself in Belgrade, Serbia for a few days. I didn’t know anyone in the city, so I decided to go to a quiz night at a nearby bar with some people I met at my hostel.

At some point, I went up to get a beer. And I very much noticed the two tall, Serbian bartenders. They were around my age with black hair, fair skin, and cool Eastern European expressions on their faces.

“Three hundred dollars,” said one of them with a straight face when I tried to pay for my drink. The other one looked over and smiled at me as he overheard the exchange.

No, it wasn’t the most hilarious joke I’d heard. But I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear. I liked that he wanted to make our interaction more than transactional.

I paid him the 100 Dinar (one dollar or so) the drink actually cost and went back to my seat.

The quiz night resumed. I sat at my table trying to participate, but really I wanted to go talk more with those bartenders.

At some point, the quiz was over and the bar was closing. It was a Wednesday and my last night in the city.

I awkwardly nursed the rest of my beer, as I tried to think of an in. And when I looked back over at the bar I found it. One of the employees of my hostel was there talking to the two guys. I’d only exchanged a few words with him but that was better than nothing. I walked up to the group casually with the rest of my beer in tow.

One of them was in the middle of explaining something so I waited patiently for him to finish and then said to the group, “How’s it going?”

“Good, how are you?” said the cuter bartender. I found out later his name was Andrej.

“Good, what are you guys up to after this?” I asked.

“Going to a club actually, do you want to come?”.

Did I want to come? Uhh…

“Yes,” I said. I looked down at my outfit. It was the end of August and I was wearing jean shorts and flip flops. “Like now?”

“We will go home and shower and then go. Give me your number,” continued Andrej.

Two minutes ago I had zero plans and knew no one and now I’m going to a club with two cute Serbian guys in Belgrade. Hell Yes.

I went home and changed into a cute black onesie and some sandals, the one club-appropriate outfit I carried around in my carry-on size backpack, and met up with them by a bus stop near our respective places. On the way, we talked about Serbia and its history. I felt like I was getting cultured on top of the fun that might be in store.

About 30 minutes later, we arrived at the club, and it was, well, horrible. They were playing cheesy EDM and there was barely anyone there. But it was one of their friend’s birthdays and he had a bottle of vodka he was sharing with our small group. So whatever.

I sat at our table talking to Andrej mostly.

“We live together,” he said referring to the other bartender, Ziv.

I was already certain I wanted to go home with Andrej. He was a big man I imagined could flip me around pretty easily. And he had this mysterious stoic attitude I didn’t come across much in the US.

“He’s an animal, that guy,” he continued pointing at Ziv. “I’ve heard him having sex. He just goes forever. The woman screaming.”

“Really?” I said. I shifted in my seat.

“Yeah, sometimes we do it together,” he added. I immediately felt a jolt in my crotch.

“Oh,” I said, my head tilted down as my eyes turned back up to meet his. “So like, so you both — ”