I’m not going to say how many times I’ve rewritten the beginning of this blog post. I’ve begun posts of the past with those exact words way too many times already. I will, however, say the start of one of the many drafts of this blog post explained what a sexually adventurous couple Mr. K and I are, and how we’re willing to try just about anything together. In one of the drafts, I even broke down the definition of swingers and the variations of swapping. But Heather struck it with her mighty red pen.
As usual, though, her reasons were dead-on. I needed to write about what Mr. K and I went through as we arrived at the decision to open ourselves to playing with another couple. I didn’t need to give a vocabulary lesson. It didn’t matter how funny “Downtown to Full Swap Town” was; it was unnecessary.
Mr. K and I longed to frolic together in the juiciness of group sex, but neither one of us had the desire for me to fuck another man. I couldn’t imagine it. So with limits in place– no anal with another, and I needed to be the one to make him orgasm –our unicorn quest began.
The hunt was fruitless, yielding one epic fail after another and as frustration mounted, we toyed with the idea of opening ourselves to playtime with another couple. But we weren’t certain it was the right thing for us and we forged ahead in our search. As we did, our craving to kiss with a willing unicorn between us shifted. Mr. K wanted the pleasure of laying underneath me, licking my pussy and my juices from another man’s cock. I found the fantasy incredibly arousing and I began to want it, along with much more. I realized whether it was a woman, a man, or both we got busy with, our connection would be solid.
Deciding it was time to open ourselves to another couple, we searched the swinger networking site for profiles similar to our own. J & B’s was well written and straightforward, so we sent them a note to say hello. To our delight, they were interested and our emails progressed to naughty photographs, and flirty text messages. We discussed safe sex and I pulled anal from the table. Anal play is incredibly special to us and the one thing Mr. K and I weren’t willing to share with others.
As we made plans to meet them later in the week, Mr. K began to worry. He was afraid my need to please him was shadowing my judgment, that getting naked with another couple wasn’t something I wanted. But I calmed his fears, telling him I would never fuck another just to make him happy. It’s not my nature. Fucking another was something I would do WITH him and I would enjoy every delicious moment.
I’m pretty sure Best Girlfriend Ever was the next thing out of his mouth, because yeah, I totally am. I have a t-shirt that says so.
The hotel bar was situated next to the marina and the salty night air blew around us as we got to know each other better. We clicked right away and after a couple of drinks, Mr. K and I followed them hand in hand to their room.
“What if I can’t get hard?” he asked.
I laughed. “Yeah, THAT’S not going to be a problem.”
I sat my toy bag on the chair next to the table. Condoms were laid out neatly on a small silver tray. The packages were colorful, reminding me of a sleeve of Starburst candies. My sensitive vag clenched at the sight of them, but being being the planner I am, I had my own supply. Latex-free, of course.
We lounged on their bed for awhile. We were fully clothed as we chatted about B’s breast implants, the surgery I would have to replace mine, and how we met our partners. Mr. K rubbed my leg as I rattled on incessantly, wondering who would be the first to disrobe; who would make the first move.
Admittedly, I was a little nervous and the reality of it caught me by surprise. Why was I anxious? I’d had group sex before, but it was unplanned, hurried, and selfish. I knew the past would pale in comparison to what lay ahead of us. It was also long ago, during a time when I rebelled against myself as I struggled to breathe under weighty confusion. But what struck me the hardest about the past was I wasn’t with someone I loved.
The doubts in my life had been gone for a long time. I was confident in who I was and in Mr. K’s love for me. I knew there would be no judgment however we chose to play, and it was something we would do together.
Mr. K pulled me from the bed and undressed me.
“I love you,” he said, as he held my face in his hands.
“I know. I love you too.” I smiled and turned to B, untying her dress from around her neck.
She lay naked against J’s chest on the bed. I ran my hands along her thighs as I parted them, teasing her clit with my tongue. Mr. K dropped to his knees behind me and buried his face in my pussy, quickly making me come.
What followed can only be described as a whirlwind of tongues, fingers, fucking, blowjobs, and orgasms. J and I sucked Mr. K’s cock while B rode his face, and in the most amazing daisy chain, I fucked B with my strap-on while Mr. K fucked me from behind as J stood on the bed above us with his cock in Mr. K’s mouth. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen.
Throughout the evening, Mr. K pulled me to him and fucked me, giving me the kisses I needed while telling me he loved me. Those moments reassured us both. And the beautiful thing about it all was regardless of who was fucking or sucking who, my hand never left his body. Even if it was only his leg I touched as B rode his cock and J fucked me, I had the connection I needed to feel grounded and safe.
After hugs, kisses, and promises to stay in touch with our new friends, Mr. K was unusually quiet as we walked to the car. I panicked, immediately assuming the worst. Had we made a mistake? Was he not okay with me having fucked another man after all? What about the orgasms I’d been given? The questions exploded in my brain like an atomic bomb.
“Are you alright with everything that happened?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good,” he said, as he smiled, wrapping his arms around me. “I promise.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, his arms confirming his love.
We relived the details as we drove to a very late dinner. I confessed I felt a small pang when B fucked his face, but I realized even though his sounds of pleasure were the same, they were totally different because it wasn’t me. I felt like a silly high school girl as the jealousy dissipated quickly. He revealed he felt a momentary stab too, but like mine, it passed swiftly and they didn’t take away from the amazing things we shared. We were allowed those flashes because we’re human and quite honestly, knowing we both had them made me feel all warm and fuzzy.
As incredible as the night was, we agreed it was something we couldn’t do very often. Not because of regret, because there was none. We were just drained; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Plus, my delicate vag was screaming WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO ME, WOMAN?! from the use of lube and latex condoms.
Despite the exhaustion, we needed to feel, smell, and taste each other again before we slept. We climbed into the shower in our hotel room, and after the scent and fingerprints of others disappeared down the drain, we fell into bed, the night drawing to a close exactly as we’d planned. Mr. K held me close and we made love skin to skin. He told me how much he loved me and kissed me deeply, giving me the final, most glorious orgasm of the night.
So enjoyed this . . . we have experienced (and enjoyed) similar sentiments to your own in the immediate aftermath of “an evening out”. Lovely to read. Xxx – K
Thank you, Katie! I like that you used the term ‘aftermath’, because that’s really what it all is. Not in a negative way, although, I’m sure it can be for some. I think talking about everything that takes place and processing it together is an essential piece. It was for us anyway. And for me, knowing how the night would end before it even began was the beautifully tied bow on the package of juicy explorations.
Thanks for sharing (this post), and being so emotionally descriptive. I’m not so sure I could handle the web of emotional complexity involved well enough to enjoy the pleasure and excitement. But, it’s fascinating to imagine…
I confess it was a lot, and it’s definitely not for everyone. I don’t think a lot of people realize how much goes into preparing for it or how much it takes out of you. For us, communication and physical & emotional connection were key. And knowing exactly how we would wind down the night after.
I’m so excited to have read this. The love that the two of you shared is glorious. This is where hubs and I failed. My story is less than wonderful:
We set out to become swingers instead of being poly, but we never actually played together. We went separate ways and fucked separate people. We came back to each other, but it wasn’t the same. The threesome we shared was almost perfect – but when I went to get cleaned up they had begun playing again without me. The connection(s) was never solidly forged and what could/should have been an experience like yours was one of the first key stones removed- razing our relationship.
I love that I have the ability to read such great writing about sexual activities, love and BDSM that play out this way through you and Heather. Keep up the good and kinky work!!!
Thank you, sugar!
It saddens me that your experience turned out the way it did. I really think the key thing for us was the boatload of communication. There was so much of it for months and months before, lots during, and even after. We knew how the night would end for us before we found players.
And now I want to give you hugs!
Thanks gorgeous. I admire you and yours, and though my own story had a less than wonderful outcome, it helped me be more free and begin to heal from a less than fulfilling relationship.
I was just telling Heather that VA has helped me to put so much into perspective. Especially how relationships CAN be.
*BOOSHIES*
[…] Mr. K and I added swinging to our sex resume, we were excruciatingly specific about our wants, limits, and expectations. […]
[…] and for that, I will be forever grateful. Over the next three years, we indulged each other’s fantasies. We fucked with abandon and we loved hard, but did we actually date? It’s hard to […]