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...

She Lies There

She lies next to me in bed, dressed only in her blue boy-short style panties. The duvet is just barely over her ample and gorgeous breasts. She is dozing off, avoiding house work to lie next to me. To be close to me. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.

Last weekend was her birthday and we drank to much wine. Her best friend came over late in the evening and we danced and drank and talked. And then at the time when the night meets the morning we all made love to each other, bodies draped over one another, the sound of leather on skin accentuating the moans of passion and lust.

An hour later the dawn is breaking. She has dozed off, exhausted, her vagina a soft and receding heat. Her friend is still hungry for more, and as she quietly slumbers we remain entwined in passion. I thrust myself deep inside this other woman and gaze on her sleeping face and wonder at her beauty. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.

Yesterday I had a nap. I awoke to her soft lips on my forehead. He voice was small in my ear. I cannot love her more than I love her right now.