One day. A day for rest. A day for relaxation. A day for love making. A day for treating ourselves. A day for each other. A day for reconnecting.
A week or so ago I suggested that we both arrange to play hooky from work for a day and I would book a massage for both of us and we would just relax and hang out. Yesterday was the day and we started out by heading out for a massage first thing in the morning. Grabbed a nice bite to eat in a little coffee shop downtown, did a bit of window shopping and panty buying (pour moi!) and headed home for a lazy afternoon of fucking and relaxing in the sun. We smoked a bit of weed and laid out on the lawn under our water mister and just dozed for an hour or so and then moved it inside to have some seriously needed and much anticipated fantastic sex. Good lord. Has it been that long? I felt like we were fucking like crazy, sex deprived fiends who were hungry for every bit of sexual thrill and satisfaction they could find.
And all was good with the world. Funny how sometimes it really is just that simple.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 3)
The question as to whether this action taken by Resident Manservant is compatible with my feelings is very intriguing to me and I've been working on understanding my answer to this question all week.
It is true that he and I had had a conversation discussing our rules of engagement only moments before he chose to break them. And one might think that this would cause a certain and undeniable amount of distrust within me. To jump to the end of the story first, I will say that I have no problem with Resident Manservant and what he has done. This was my initial and immediate response and I was very surprised by it.
That being said, I've been trying to understand why I feel that way. We have had threesomes before with a number of different people. My friend being one of them. She is the only person who we have invited into our bed more than once though. She is a very close friend and the three of us get along very well. Many similar interests, and at the very least a similar outlook and philosophy about life.
When R.M and I first started 'swinging' we laid out some fairly exclusive rules. 'Only Together' being the first and most important rule. We were never supposed to pursue any extra-curricular sexual activity without our partner by our side. This was something we wanted to experience together. We didn't want to swap partners with people. We wanted to participate in beautiful sex acts together--with another female or male joining us, or perhaps in a larger, orgy-oriented environment.
The last number of times we have had threesomes have been with my friend and I have always felt a bit like an accessory. While I am quite interested in playing with Miss Single in a sexual way, I have never felt like her interest in reciprocating is genuine. She plays along, but I've always felt that it was a bit of a ploy to get at the magnificent cock of my husband. Whether she is genuine in her play or not, my interest has really waned in terms of having sexual relations with her as I really feel like the third wheel in the exchange. I'm just along for the ride. More a spectator than a participant.
Resident Manservant and I talked about this before bed that night and I reiterated that I was not interested in pursuing a threesome. It just wasn't all that satisfying for me. I knew she wanted action--and she was hoping to get it from Mr. Moved Away, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Therefore, I was not at all surprised to hear when I first opened my eyes in the morning from R.M. that he had fucked Miss Single after I fell asleep. And I didn't mind. Obviously, he had crossed a line. A line that we had very recently discussed and reiterated. But it was cool.
I guess a big part of this is that this wasn't some random chick. She is a close friend whom we both care very deeply for. And in some ways I'd rather that she fuck my husband instead of some random guy she might pick up at the bar or return to other past boyfriends or fuck buddies--people who don't really care about her or treat her particularly well. We have explored this relationship together and I've decided that I'm not getting what I need out of it and it's not quite the right thing for me. Now, I'm not sure how I'd feel if this continued on a regular basis. But that is more because I am worried about my friend and her ability to remain emotionally aware and neutral while having sex with my fantastic and totally lovable husband. I don't worry about my husband's ability to do the same, but I would hate for her to fall tragically in love with a man who will never love her in the way she is desperately hoping to be loved. In the way she deserves to be loved.
What this means now is that my feelings regarding our extra-curricular sexual activities have evolved. I think I'd like to find myself a fuck buddy. Someone I can be close with, someone I actually have something in common with aside from sex, someone who I might even be interested in dating if I didn't already have a primary relationship with a wonderful man. Someone I could date, fuck, hang out with, and explore with, all without commitment.
I haven't said that very eloquently, I know. But what I'd really like to explore is whether it's possible to find people to have meaningful relationships with whom I might also occasionally have sex with. Polyamory is the term that comes to mind. I don't know if it's possible. But I'd like to try.
It is true that he and I had had a conversation discussing our rules of engagement only moments before he chose to break them. And one might think that this would cause a certain and undeniable amount of distrust within me. To jump to the end of the story first, I will say that I have no problem with Resident Manservant and what he has done. This was my initial and immediate response and I was very surprised by it.
That being said, I've been trying to understand why I feel that way. We have had threesomes before with a number of different people. My friend being one of them. She is the only person who we have invited into our bed more than once though. She is a very close friend and the three of us get along very well. Many similar interests, and at the very least a similar outlook and philosophy about life.
When R.M and I first started 'swinging' we laid out some fairly exclusive rules. 'Only Together' being the first and most important rule. We were never supposed to pursue any extra-curricular sexual activity without our partner by our side. This was something we wanted to experience together. We didn't want to swap partners with people. We wanted to participate in beautiful sex acts together--with another female or male joining us, or perhaps in a larger, orgy-oriented environment.
The last number of times we have had threesomes have been with my friend and I have always felt a bit like an accessory. While I am quite interested in playing with Miss Single in a sexual way, I have never felt like her interest in reciprocating is genuine. She plays along, but I've always felt that it was a bit of a ploy to get at the magnificent cock of my husband. Whether she is genuine in her play or not, my interest has really waned in terms of having sexual relations with her as I really feel like the third wheel in the exchange. I'm just along for the ride. More a spectator than a participant.
Resident Manservant and I talked about this before bed that night and I reiterated that I was not interested in pursuing a threesome. It just wasn't all that satisfying for me. I knew she wanted action--and she was hoping to get it from Mr. Moved Away, but that clearly wasn't going to happen. Therefore, I was not at all surprised to hear when I first opened my eyes in the morning from R.M. that he had fucked Miss Single after I fell asleep. And I didn't mind. Obviously, he had crossed a line. A line that we had very recently discussed and reiterated. But it was cool.
I guess a big part of this is that this wasn't some random chick. She is a close friend whom we both care very deeply for. And in some ways I'd rather that she fuck my husband instead of some random guy she might pick up at the bar or return to other past boyfriends or fuck buddies--people who don't really care about her or treat her particularly well. We have explored this relationship together and I've decided that I'm not getting what I need out of it and it's not quite the right thing for me. Now, I'm not sure how I'd feel if this continued on a regular basis. But that is more because I am worried about my friend and her ability to remain emotionally aware and neutral while having sex with my fantastic and totally lovable husband. I don't worry about my husband's ability to do the same, but I would hate for her to fall tragically in love with a man who will never love her in the way she is desperately hoping to be loved. In the way she deserves to be loved.
What this means now is that my feelings regarding our extra-curricular sexual activities have evolved. I think I'd like to find myself a fuck buddy. Someone I can be close with, someone I actually have something in common with aside from sex, someone who I might even be interested in dating if I didn't already have a primary relationship with a wonderful man. Someone I could date, fuck, hang out with, and explore with, all without commitment.
I haven't said that very eloquently, I know. But what I'd really like to explore is whether it's possible to find people to have meaningful relationships with whom I might also occasionally have sex with. Polyamory is the term that comes to mind. I don't know if it's possible. But I'd like to try.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 2)
There are few lines in our relationship. While we explore certain boundaries of a sexuality together, one on one sexual contact with other women is out of the question. I do not have carte blanche, as some of my male confidantes thing, to be promiscuous. We are exploring life together.
So how then did I end up screwing my wifes best friend as she slept upstairs on our marriage bed? Good question.
The recipient of my extramarital carnality is a good friend of ours, the maid of honor at our wedding, and someone who over the past 2 years we have taken in to our bed together a handful of times. We both deeply care for her, and her for us. On so many surface levels a midnight tryst seems to run contrary to everything we profess to desire. It certainly wreaks havoc with the basic concept of trust.
But the reason I advocated with my wife to expand our sexual boundaries was based on a philosophical distinction I felt existed between relationships and physical love. The reason I can move outside the boundaries others adhere too is because, for me, the real essence of a strong relationship is entirely removed from sexual desires and behaviors. Our species, however we came into this present state, possesses a bizarre and complex psychology when it comes to our reproductive process. The intensity of those passions are frightening to some, and it seems to me that we cling to the stability of monogamy out of fear, to shed our responsibility for confronting that challenge. Much like our current societies ornamental attachment to the pretense of organized religion, people stay monogamous to maintain a status quo - because their friends are, because their parents did, because they have been lead to fear the alternative.
It is based on that understanding that I had no personal moral compunctions about fucking my wifes best friend. I, personally, have no issue with sharing that intimate physicality with someone who isn't my wife. I don't have any problems with my wife doing the same. Our relationship is based on a connection much deeper than the basic mechanics of genital interconnectedness. And we both have room in our hearts for other people as it is in our nature to reserve that one part that has created a unique spiritual connection with each other.
But perhaps I am being overly simplistic to support my romanticized self-image as a closet bohemian. What is an inescapable truth is that as early as just that evening it had been reiterated that this was simple something we do not do. It was not within our mutual comfort zone.
What pushed me to cross the line was a sincere feeling of empathy for the other woman. We already shared a deep connection - all three of us do. And she was feeling alone, isolated, envious of our stability, and deeply, deeply horny. I felt that with all we had said and done as a threesome it was the sort of thing that should be done. It would me hilariously tacky to say I felt obligated - I was highly aroused, intoxicated by multiple chemicals, and feeling deeply devious - but I did it because I needed to do it to be genuine to myself.
What remained to be seen was if following that path was compatible with my wifes feelings...
To be continued...
So how then did I end up screwing my wifes best friend as she slept upstairs on our marriage bed? Good question.
The recipient of my extramarital carnality is a good friend of ours, the maid of honor at our wedding, and someone who over the past 2 years we have taken in to our bed together a handful of times. We both deeply care for her, and her for us. On so many surface levels a midnight tryst seems to run contrary to everything we profess to desire. It certainly wreaks havoc with the basic concept of trust.
But the reason I advocated with my wife to expand our sexual boundaries was based on a philosophical distinction I felt existed between relationships and physical love. The reason I can move outside the boundaries others adhere too is because, for me, the real essence of a strong relationship is entirely removed from sexual desires and behaviors. Our species, however we came into this present state, possesses a bizarre and complex psychology when it comes to our reproductive process. The intensity of those passions are frightening to some, and it seems to me that we cling to the stability of monogamy out of fear, to shed our responsibility for confronting that challenge. Much like our current societies ornamental attachment to the pretense of organized religion, people stay monogamous to maintain a status quo - because their friends are, because their parents did, because they have been lead to fear the alternative.
It is based on that understanding that I had no personal moral compunctions about fucking my wifes best friend. I, personally, have no issue with sharing that intimate physicality with someone who isn't my wife. I don't have any problems with my wife doing the same. Our relationship is based on a connection much deeper than the basic mechanics of genital interconnectedness. And we both have room in our hearts for other people as it is in our nature to reserve that one part that has created a unique spiritual connection with each other.
But perhaps I am being overly simplistic to support my romanticized self-image as a closet bohemian. What is an inescapable truth is that as early as just that evening it had been reiterated that this was simple something we do not do. It was not within our mutual comfort zone.
What pushed me to cross the line was a sincere feeling of empathy for the other woman. We already shared a deep connection - all three of us do. And she was feeling alone, isolated, envious of our stability, and deeply, deeply horny. I felt that with all we had said and done as a threesome it was the sort of thing that should be done. It would me hilariously tacky to say I felt obligated - I was highly aroused, intoxicated by multiple chemicals, and feeling deeply devious - but I did it because I needed to do it to be genuine to myself.
What remained to be seen was if following that path was compatible with my wifes feelings...
To be continued...
Monday, June 18, 2007
Crossing Lines (Part 1)
Friday night we had a bit of a party at our house. I usually have my male friends over for some typical male bonding on fridays, but this past friday almost everyone was out of town. An important exception was a former regular to such events of male-centric nerdery but had since moved away. So while there were only three of us, it was a bit of a special occasion.
Domestic Goddess had meanwhile arranged for some serious wine drinking with one of her best friends, a beautiful woman we've occasionally taken into our bed. She was between relationships again, and feeling a little lonely. She also had a serious crush on my friend who was back in town, so while we planned to start the night segregated on gender and doing our own things we thought the night might have some potential.
And potential it had. Alcohol was consumed in substantial quantities and the evening progressed ever more ribald and racy. Discussions of our (otherwise kept in the closet) adventurous sex life were flaunted, although our special relationship with the present single woman was kept discreetly private. Once people had gotten down to their underwear on dares - the Goddess clad in her belly dancing scarf, replete with jingling coins (and oh my god was she beautiful) - I figured it was a slam dunk that Mr. Moved Away and Miss Single were bound to hook up.
Unfortunately Mr. Moved Away was a little inexperienced with alcohol and his only date for the rest of the night was with a porcelain mistress.
As my wife tended to the evaporating sick patient, I sat on the couch snuggling with our dear single friend. I was still in my boxers from the earlier silliness, and my third friend had since retired for home. It was not long before she was softly stroking my cock through my boxers and I instantly responded. "I'll be sleeping downstairs alone" she purred in my ear. "Your wife won't mind if you visit me."
While I've obviously had sex with her before, it was a very clear directive in my marriage that such one-on-one extracurricular activities were prohibited. It was about protecting ourselves from the perils that could accompany ill-advised romantic liaisons engaged in privately. Really, it was my wifes idea, I was very fond of the notion of cavalier free love screwing around. But trust comes from respecting boundaries, and even though myself and this beautiful woman had a history of flaunting that restriction we'd never crossed the line. But tonight, alone and frustrated, she was inviting me across.
And I crossed it.
The Goddess was exhausted, and despite my attempts to arouse her with a massage the alcohol and marijuana carried her off to a very deep slumber. I was extremely hard, and I contemplated masturbation to alleviate the temptation. But I knew I had an eager warm woman waiting for me down on my couch. I contrived a thousand different rationalizations in my mind and condom in hand I proceeded downstairs.
... to be continued
Domestic Goddess had meanwhile arranged for some serious wine drinking with one of her best friends, a beautiful woman we've occasionally taken into our bed. She was between relationships again, and feeling a little lonely. She also had a serious crush on my friend who was back in town, so while we planned to start the night segregated on gender and doing our own things we thought the night might have some potential.
And potential it had. Alcohol was consumed in substantial quantities and the evening progressed ever more ribald and racy. Discussions of our (otherwise kept in the closet) adventurous sex life were flaunted, although our special relationship with the present single woman was kept discreetly private. Once people had gotten down to their underwear on dares - the Goddess clad in her belly dancing scarf, replete with jingling coins (and oh my god was she beautiful) - I figured it was a slam dunk that Mr. Moved Away and Miss Single were bound to hook up.
Unfortunately Mr. Moved Away was a little inexperienced with alcohol and his only date for the rest of the night was with a porcelain mistress.
As my wife tended to the evaporating sick patient, I sat on the couch snuggling with our dear single friend. I was still in my boxers from the earlier silliness, and my third friend had since retired for home. It was not long before she was softly stroking my cock through my boxers and I instantly responded. "I'll be sleeping downstairs alone" she purred in my ear. "Your wife won't mind if you visit me."
While I've obviously had sex with her before, it was a very clear directive in my marriage that such one-on-one extracurricular activities were prohibited. It was about protecting ourselves from the perils that could accompany ill-advised romantic liaisons engaged in privately. Really, it was my wifes idea, I was very fond of the notion of cavalier free love screwing around. But trust comes from respecting boundaries, and even though myself and this beautiful woman had a history of flaunting that restriction we'd never crossed the line. But tonight, alone and frustrated, she was inviting me across.
And I crossed it.
The Goddess was exhausted, and despite my attempts to arouse her with a massage the alcohol and marijuana carried her off to a very deep slumber. I was extremely hard, and I contemplated masturbation to alleviate the temptation. But I knew I had an eager warm woman waiting for me down on my couch. I contrived a thousand different rationalizations in my mind and condom in hand I proceeded downstairs.
... to be continued
Monday, June 11, 2007
Tension and Frustration and an Absent Wife (again)
The Goddess is away on business again today and I am left to my own resources. This means extra work and atypically late hours, and it also means copious amounts of pornography and masturbation. Well, as copious as possible while being subtle as the Goddess' sister still lives with us.
I used to find my time alone on trips like this very satisfying, but recently I've found it mildly upsetting. Lately diet and exercise have fallen by the wayside, so that may be the cause of my psychic malaise, but I'm finding being alone frustrating. This is not a carnal concern, but one of...well...I don't know.
We recently have added running a balanced budget to our day to day program, and while diet and exercise have been neglected lately we ostensibly are still trying to remedy those long-standing oversights as well. Combine this with both of our work lives being over-stressed lately and we are one giant ball of anxiety. And as much as she annoys me, Domestic Goddess really is a rudder that keeps my ship sailing true in these choppy waters. We might not have the best coping mechanisms - marijuana consumption is on the rise, as is late night munchies - but we have a hell of a time doing them.
But there are other frustrations this creates, as neither of our libidos are doing so hot in the evening hours. We had an incredibly erotic conversation about threesomes today - actually discussing their downsides, which was exponentially more arousing that just sharing an idle fantasy. But if she were here right now I know our night would be declining into destressing, decompressing, smoking some pot, and just hanging out.
I need that, but what happened to the hot sex?
Compared to people who have no sex lives, I suppose our moderate sex life is nothing to complain about. But I find a lot of release in our erotic escapades, setting aside the obvious literal interpretation. I hope we can return to more ambitious adventures soon.
A Farmwife with a Twist was especially arousing today, if only because that is a forbidden place for the Goddess and I.
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
Away
Right now I am away on business. I don't usually mind being away on business so much. And I am in a cool city that I love to visit, so that makes things easier for me. I do know though that that is not the case for Resident Manservant. I know he finds things quite stressful when I'm away. I am not really sure why that is, but I think it's a combination of 'when the cat is away the mice come out to play...' or whatever that metaphor is. He stays up way too late reading comic books and masturbating, going to movies and goofing off on the internet because he thinks he can get away with it and he's bored. He really just ends up wearing himself down and stressing himself out. I wish he handled his time alone better. I worry about him when I'm gone.
He is home dealing with real life. And work. And the dogs. And my sister. And the house that he must have reasonably clean for me upon my return. This last one especially is the one that I worry about. Because oh. my. god. Sometimes the details escape him (Hi! Love you dear!!!). I know that the house falls to pieces when I'm away. The bathroom is a disaster. There are probably XBox controllers all over the living room. Dog toys all over the floors. Half chewed rawhide bones lurking in dark corners. And garbages needing to be taken out. The kitchen (if my estimates are correct) is probably looking like a whirlwind has struck and the kitchen cabinets are all -- and I do mean all of them -- wide open and the drawers are open and there are probably more than a few dishes and water glasses sitting around. And this is to say nothing of the laundry. The massive piles of laundry he somehow manages to accumulate in my absence.
To be fair, I don't really care what the house looks like when I'm gone. It's how well he manages to put things back together before I get home that concerns me. I am very particular about our house. I guess I'm house proud or something. But mostly, I just don't like having to clean up messes that I didn't make. And I'd love to be able to just walk in after being gone for 4 days and, oh, I don't know--fuck. Without abandon and without distraction.
And I get distracted by a dirty house. This is a prime example of my control issues coming out in full force. I can't help it. I'm defective.
On another note, I think I'm going to a gay bar tomorrow! Should be very interesting. A gay bar, you ask? I work in the field of HIV prevention/education. Many of the people I work with province wide are gay and one of them is taking a group of us to a gay bar. Good times will, I'm sure, be had by all.
He is home dealing with real life. And work. And the dogs. And my sister. And the house that he must have reasonably clean for me upon my return. This last one especially is the one that I worry about. Because oh. my. god. Sometimes the details escape him (Hi! Love you dear!!!). I know that the house falls to pieces when I'm away. The bathroom is a disaster. There are probably XBox controllers all over the living room. Dog toys all over the floors. Half chewed rawhide bones lurking in dark corners. And garbages needing to be taken out. The kitchen (if my estimates are correct) is probably looking like a whirlwind has struck and the kitchen cabinets are all -- and I do mean all of them -- wide open and the drawers are open and there are probably more than a few dishes and water glasses sitting around. And this is to say nothing of the laundry. The massive piles of laundry he somehow manages to accumulate in my absence.
To be fair, I don't really care what the house looks like when I'm gone. It's how well he manages to put things back together before I get home that concerns me. I am very particular about our house. I guess I'm house proud or something. But mostly, I just don't like having to clean up messes that I didn't make. And I'd love to be able to just walk in after being gone for 4 days and, oh, I don't know--fuck. Without abandon and without distraction.
And I get distracted by a dirty house. This is a prime example of my control issues coming out in full force. I can't help it. I'm defective.
On another note, I think I'm going to a gay bar tomorrow! Should be very interesting. A gay bar, you ask? I work in the field of HIV prevention/education. Many of the people I work with province wide are gay and one of them is taking a group of us to a gay bar. Good times will, I'm sure, be had by all.
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Well THAT Was Wierd
She has been itching to try the speculum we impuse-bought on our order from the wonderful people at Blowfish. So after some frustration with our lack of sexual opportunity since our debauched birthday threesome She decided to pounce on me this morning.
Now, for some reason, I just don't much like morning sex. The physical functions work just fine, but my brain doesn't seem to pick up on penile pleasure before breakfast. I don't like masturbating before noon, either.
So we decided to take it slow and out came the speculum. And the flash light. And the digital camera. It was neat.
And then...
I fucked the speculum. Well, I guess I fucked her with the speculum in the way. So half of it was fleshy and half of it was metallic, and we relied on the locking mechanism to not slam closed on me.
It required delicacy, it required care, and it was really unusual. No complaints, but I question my innate urge to stick my dick in things.
Now, for some reason, I just don't much like morning sex. The physical functions work just fine, but my brain doesn't seem to pick up on penile pleasure before breakfast. I don't like masturbating before noon, either.
So we decided to take it slow and out came the speculum. And the flash light. And the digital camera. It was neat.
And then...
I fucked the speculum. Well, I guess I fucked her with the speculum in the way. So half of it was fleshy and half of it was metallic, and we relied on the locking mechanism to not slam closed on me.
It required delicacy, it required care, and it was really unusual. No complaints, but I question my innate urge to stick my dick in things.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)