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‘Group Sex’ Category

  1. Group Sex for the Over Thirty-Something

    September 12, 2012 by Heather Cole

    I have this conundrum. My girlfriend’s birthday is this month, and I’m plotting with her boyfriend (yes, you read that correctly) to plan a celebration. Just the three of us. Matt and I are in charge of all the details while Liri just has to show up and enjoy herself. The first question Liri and Matt asked was what rating our gathering deserved. Rated-G wasn’t ever an option despite all of us enjoying episodes of My Little Pony. Rated-PG was much more likely, but given the three of us and our healthy sexual appetites, things could easily stray into R territory before plunging headfirst into a solid X rating. We’re kinky, poly people with a shared love of Liri. Yup, this situation has sex cocktail written all over it.

    The issue is me. I don’t have group sex like I used to in my twenties. Not that I’ve had a lot of experience with group sex. There was an almost foursome that came close but disbanded at the last possible moment. Even an accidental ingestion of Ecstasy and four-person nakedness could not overcome a language barrier. It’s not my fault I couldn’t translate “grab my cock like it was a microphone” from Spanish. Then there were the weekend parties in Ecuador where we’d end up with three other couples fucking in the same room. Like I said, it was almost group sex, but not quite. If I had to sum up sex during my twenties, I would choose the word voracious.

    I keep asking myself, “what does group sex mean for me now?” I’ve spent many years ignoring caution and my tender heart, blithely having sex whenever the spirit moved me. Part of me still says, “shut up, Heather, and just fuck them silly.” That was the overriding voice in my head for most of my twenties, and although I had a lot of fun, I was also left wanting something more. A decade later, after the potential feel-good sexcapades of today, I’ll be thinking and analyzing. Yes, dammit, over-thinking and over-analyzing. I’ll be worried if I blundered through a boundary somehow and made someone uncomfortable followed by worry regarding my performance. (Yes, women worry about that too.)

    Ultimately the nagging feeling that stops me is that I want sex to be significant, and how traditional is that? It’s true, though. I don’t think exclusivity equals significance as it would in a monogamous paradigm, but I want my partners to understand that this doesn’t happen with just anyone. And the fact that I choose them, means a hell of a lot to me. I want them to feel that too. As I’m sitting here re-reading what I just typed, it struck me that if I cared less about Liri or Matt or my long-distance relationship with B, I wouldn’t have thought so hard about what sex would mean between the three of us. If they were less significant to me, I’d probably be stripping down for the sex cocktail already.

    Being a part of the kinky community, I probably have more opportunities now to have group sex than I ever did. Having sex with play partners is a common practice here. Especially with like-minded poly people. Private play parties feature lots of nudity and toys and fetishes of all sorts. Sex is often a component of that, and although I take no issue with anyone indulging in it, I’ve stopped short of sex at a party. Well, there was the one time when Liri flogged me and then had sex with me on Matt’s living room floor in front of other party-goers. But other than that, I haven’t participated in a group sexual dynamic. Mostly out of consideration for my relationship partners. AGAIN WITH THE THINKING AND PONDERING!

    Matt and I haven’t made any firm plans for Liri’s private celebration, but I’m fairly certain he and I won’t be fucking each other. As much as we may be willing, I also get the distinct impression that we’re careful of each other’s relationships with Liri. This is new territory for all three of us. Our girl Liri, on the other hand, may end up naked and tied up on the dining room table. Because what kind of celebration would it be if we didn’t have a present to unwrap?

    Category Group Sex | Tags: ,, | 7 Comments

  2. Toy Shopping Isn’t As Easy As It Sounds

    June 15, 2012 by Nikki Blue

    I have a terrific partner, and as I’ve said before, we have few limits. When he expressed his desire to find a fucktoy for us to play with, I was in full agreement. He wanted someone to see the intensity of what we share. And he wanted the experience of watching me Top a woman. How could I deny him that?

    We discussed limits, agreeing that there are things about our sexual relationship that are sacred, and we want to keep them between us. Condoms will be worn, and anal is out of the question. Not to sound too territorial, but that’s mine. We also had some requirements for our ideal plaything. My partner wanted a younger woman with perky breasts and erect nipples. My requirement, and it is a huge one, is that she’s more submissive than I am. Otherwise, it won’t work.

    With limits set and an idea of what attributes our potential toy should possess, we reached out to kinksters on FetLife and opened an account as a couple on OKCupid. We read profile after profile of bisexual women who might be interested in couple play. I read the details of each one of them looking for their curiosities and limits. I messaged each woman with a personalized “hello.” Fuck, women are complicated.

    Our first inquiry was from a woman who I liked immediately. That is until she began calling me just to chat. She led me to believe she wanted to play with me alone and that’s not my thing. I consider myself to be heteroflexible. I love the complexity and curves of a woman’s body, but I only find delving into the soft folds between a woman’s thighs appealing if there is a man involved. I need that male stimulation to get my *ahem* creative juices flowing. I know, I know. I’m complicated.

    The next back and forth took place with a hot little blonde who said she’d never played with a couple before, but she was up for the experience. But that ended when she asked if I was worried that my partner would like her better and I would lose him. Oh hell no. If she had been within arm’s reach, I would’ve crotch-punched her and choked her with the bikini she wore in her profile picture.

    There were others too. They were either too far away, too young, not our type, or decidedly too inexperienced. As flattering as it is, I’m not mentor material.

    Why was it so hard to find someone who understood the situation for exactly what it was with no expectations beyond a night of fun? Were we asking for too much?

    Then it dawned on me. My partner found me on FetLife. And even though he had an agenda of sorts initially, he still wooed me. He knew that whether it’s cerebral or physical, a woman still needs to feel an attraction. That’s what I feel we were omitting from our search. We were expecting someone to climb into bed with us and remain completely disconnected. I don’t know if that’s possible.

    I was bellyaching about our disappointing search to one of my girlfriends. I was frustrated. I wanted to please my partner, and I was failing.

    “I’ll do it,” she said, very matter-of-factly.

    “I’m sorry. What?”

    My partner and I had discussed the possibility of approaching her in the beginning, but I was hesitant. She was my friend, one of my best, and I didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that. But that’s what I was missing while I was pouring over profile after profile. She is my friend and would do anything for me. She would never question my limits. She understands and accepts them. She knows how important it is to me to please my partner. Plus, her husband enjoys sharing her. It’s a win/win.

    Our night of lascivious behavior hasn’t happened yet, but when it does it will be so much better than a random hook-up on a fetish site. It will be with someone we can both trust. Someone who understands it for what it is and wants nothing more. She doesn’t need it. The emotional connection is already established, but on a higher level. And the best part about our experience up until now is that my partner wasn’t disappointed with me for not being successful in my search for a playmate. I proved my willingness to please him, and in the end, that’s what matters.

    Category Group Sex | Tags: ,, | 1 Comment

  3. My First Threesome

    February 24, 2012 by Nikki Blue

    When Heather and I initially discussed writing a week of firsts, it seemed natural that I would follow her account of losing her lady love cherry with the story of how I tossed my virginity out of the window of a sports car like a cigarette butt. Her piece seriously intimidated the shit out of me. How could I top that?

    Then when I read Liri’s spectacular guest post on the art of cunnilingus, I was tempted to crawl back into bed naked, pull the covers over my head and say, “fuck it.” Who in the hell was going to be interested in reading how I gave it up for the first time in the back of an azure blue 300ZX in a Methodist Church parking lot to a twenty-two year old married man? It didn’t matter that I was only fourteen years old at the time and wearing black satin panties with little white stars on them (yes I still remember). Or that the back of the car damn near looked like a crime scene when he de-flowered me. That nefarious tale paled in comparison to the preceding blog posts, so after much deliberation, I decided to go down a different road of firsts. My first threesome.

    Allow me to take a moment to preface this story with this statement: I never sought married men, but for whatever reason, there was a time in my life when they came after me.

    My first threesome didn’t just happen on the tail end of too many cocktails after a long night at a neighborhood bar. Unbeknownst to me, it was a well-thought event, planned down to the smallest detail, and carefully orchestrated. It began with a late night phone call, a plane ticket, and a bundle of nerves. Anxieties aside, I did exactly as I was told. I always did when my married lover gave me instructions. Looking back at it now, we clearly had the dynamics of a D/s relationship.

    When my red-eye flight landed, he met me at the gate and his intense eyes told me he’d missed me. I felt his familiar strength when he took me in his arms. During the drive to the hotel, he allowed me the silence I needed as I struggled to keep my eyes open. I was too exhausted to show any concern when I saw that we were not alone in the suite, but there was no need for concern. There never was. He always took such good care of me and was fiercely protective. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he would let no harm come to me.

    He bathed me gently, washed my hair and combed it through as I sat naked at his feet eating strawberries from a plate of fruit. When I was full and my hair was dried, he led me to the bed where I slept for what seemed like days. I woke to hands on my body. I knew the feel of two of them quite well, the other two I did not. My heart began to race and I looked to him for reassurance. I found it in his eyes and knew once again, he would take care of me. Letting go of any reservations I might have had, my desire to please him took over and I was at their mercy. For hours they savored every inch of my body making me feel like the most desired woman in the world, and when I had nothing left in me, he gathered my limp body into his arms.

    “Good girl,” he whispered into my ear. They both stroked my hair as I drifted off to sleep.

    Thanks to porn, people who have never actually had a MFM threesome think it’s nothing more than a pissing contest to see who can fuck the over-used female in the middle the hardest at the same time. I won’t lie. Some of them are, but my experience was about more than that. It was as much about me as it was each of them and every touch confirmed it. Don’t get me wrong. I was used, but at that moment, it pleased him to please me. It also takes an exorbitant amount of trust to be able to let yourself go and enjoy it because you’re in the middle of a situation that can go very wrong, very fast. Don’t go into it blind. Have a solid trusting relationship with one of the participants, and know that it’s perfectly ok to call it off if you’re not comfortable with any part of it.

    I barely remember the trip home, but I like to think my emotional rollercoaster ride played out something like Diane Lane’s in Unfaithful as she rode the train home after mind-blowing sex with that hot French guy. Probably not what happened, but who’s going to argue with me? This is what I do know: It was an incredible experience, I was treated with respect and I made him proud.

    Category Group Sex | Tags: ,, | No Comments

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