Pamela was in her early twenties when she was involved in a menage a trois with a man, Ono, and a woman, Anna, for 18 months in Amsterdam.

ONE night, when I went to visit Ono, I found myself face to face with a very attractive woman I thought was no longer on the scene. I thought of myself then as a dull little English girl. Ono was compelling - extraordinarily attractive, very bright, interesting and articulate. He presented a menage a trois as a means of broadening out. An ingenue, I wanted to see what it would mean to me, whether I could hack it, whether it would be as expected.

It was like a human experiment.

I saw Ono every other weekend and a few nights a week. When Anna visited I would have to fade away. Sexual jealousy wasn't the problem, but I didn't like everything being in action replay: all the things I was doing with Ono probably had been done with Anna too. I came along second so felt it was harder for her than for me.

Ono said he would like it if Anna and I met properly, which we did. The fact that we liked each other meant I didn't feel that dark, dreadful jealousy you feel about somebody who is unknown. She wasn't superhuman; she was just another woman finding it as difficult and unsatisfactory as I was, yet as hooked into it as I was.

We both went into denial when it was our turn to be with him and had it as our own relationship, but it could never really develop. Then Ono started seeing other women. That was the breaking point. I felt terribly jealous and angry. We had come to terms with what he seemed to want, which was the threesome.

I met another chap and I made a point of going to the pub where Ono and I always went. Ono said he couldn't bear it, and I thought, this is a lie.

This isn't about progressiveness, it is about your desires. I realised I had to get out. I wanted a proper relationship. Ono blamed Anna, which was unfair.

I put it down as an interesting experience, and I am glad it happened. The pain was in realising I had to go away. None of us was being betrayed or offered something that wasn't real. Morality is about how you treat people.

(Photograph omitted)

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