Tuesday, 20 December 2011

Vanilla Lite


I had a dabble in the vanilla world this week. A male friend has an advert in the adult personals section of a publication. He does quite well and I have shared the delights of his respondents on more than one occasion. Some months back he had shared a drink with Marta, but had declined to pursue her for a proper meet. He passed her number on to me and suggested that I call as though she had responded to an advert of my own. A subterfuge, but not wholly immoral as she was seeking a connection. I rang, Marta was happy to chat and arrange a day to meet for a drink. 


We meet as arranged at a station in the outer reaches of London. From there we depart to a local restaurant that she frequents occasionally with her grown up daughter. We click right away. Conversation flows uninterrupted as does the wine. I tell her immediately that I am a swinger. That requires some explanation and she tells me that she is not interested in the lifestyle.


 "What are you looking for?" I ask. 
"I'd like to meet someone who's single." 
"You know I'm married?" I reply. 
Her thoughts are on my swinging. "Are you bi?" 
I grimace, an affected reaction. "No, its not my thing." 
I somehow sense it is what she wants to hear.

At this stage I'm thinking, I'm with the wrong woman. I'll tell her about my lifestyle and when we part we'll go our separate ways, but Marta has other ideas. She has consumed the wine and we each order another. My first remains half filled. 


"Do you think you could be satisfied by just one woman?" 
"It hasn't happened yet, but could be possible," say I. 
" Maybe I could be the one." 
Marta has made up her mind and I tell her that is the challenge I am setting her. Our food arrives and Marta orders a third glass. "I'm not a lush," she informs me.


A decision made, the mood lightens and we flirt openly. Marta has a grip on my hand across the table which tightens with each mouthful of wine. 
"We are not going to have sex on a first date and you are not coming back to my place", she insists. 


"That's fine," I tell her. "Next time will be so much more to look forward to. Where would we go?" I enquire. 
"What do you mean?" Says she. 
"Well, I'm married. I usually arrange a hotel to stay in." 


"Oh no! We'll go back to my tiny flat. 
"Your lair", I agree.


I ask for the bill. Our food hardly touched. No, there is no problem, I tell the waitress. Marta is keen for me to kiss her and I do, several times, leaning across the table. The bill settled, we have no plan. I scoot my chair round to her side to make our canoodling easier and to be fair to our fellow diners, they studiously ignore us. Conversation with Marta is getting increasingly confused. She has worked her way through my barely touched second glass of wine and I'm now painfully aware that Marta was right. She isn't a lush. The alcohol is going to her head and there is nothing I can do to stop it. She falls asleep, her head resting on the back of her seat and a handy piece of wall. I ask the waitress to order a cab. "Where to?" She asks. I have no idea and suggest the local station.


The cab arrives, I wake Marta and while I am gathering up her bag, coat, notebook and earrings, plus all my baggage, she has staggered off in the opposite direction to the exit. I catch up with her and baggage scooped under one arm, take her's with the other, then guide her out of the door. "Is she alright?" Says an understandably concerned cabbie. "Yes, fine," I say, as I bundle her into the cab, following close behind. "Where to then?" Says the cabbie  "Marta? Where do you live?" Marta, still confused, asks where we are going? "We are taking you home, what is your address?" She mumbles something incomprehensible. "What town?" asks the cabbie. She tells him and off we go to a town some thirty minutes drive away. "Do you have a postcode?" Marta digs the notebook from her bag and peers inside the cover. I can see lots of numbers scribbled down, but no postcode. The cabbie radios in to his control our destination. "She told me it was to the station", complains control, but we are in place and en route. Whomever else needs our cabbie's services will have to wait.


In the back of the cab, Marta dozes, wakes and clings on to me. "You will call me in the morning?" "You won't will you?" She asks several times. We kiss. Marta is a great kisser. Her lips are expressive and I can feel her telling me a story. I remove a hand that had been cupping her breast, she takes it and puts it back in place. In one of her dozing moments, she begins moaning, so much so that at one stage its like the scene in 'When Sally Met Harry'. Lord knows what the driver thought I was doing to her.  


He gets us to her road and we begin looking for her number. Marta recognising the neighbourhood, insists that we stop, for her to walk the rest of the way. I can't stop her and follow her out of the car to escort her to her door, which we already judge to be some hundreds of yards further on. Marta won't let me stay with her and shoos me back to the car. We wait while she walks ahead and losing sight of her, the cabbie thinks that she has gone indoors. We move forward cautiously and come abreast of her still walking. Well, staggering to be accurate. She stops and waves us away. We have no option. The road is narrow and a bus route and at that moment one pulls up behind us. My driver is obliged to drive ahead and clear the road. Now I am in a quandary. I'm abandoning a drunken woman on the street, yards from the safety of her home, but feel I have no choice, since she won't move while we are in sight. Abandon her I did and this troubles me as I write. To reassure you, she did get home in one piece and I'm probably overstating her drunken state by this stage. Nonetheless, I'm struggling to come to terms with leaving her on her own. 


My cabbie takes me to a nearby station to continue my journey home and I leave him forty pounds the poorer and giving thanks for his patience and assistance. On the train home, I ponder the evening and resolve in future to stick with swinging. It is so much simpler.

Tuesday, 13 December 2011

A Day Unwritten

Dark Knight is on his way. We have a day of writing planned; two big scenes to map out. He has just text me to let me know he is en route.

     Santa is on his way. You can sit on his lap and if you have been a good girl, you can have a present.

Hmmmm. My reply.

     Such a shame I've been so naughty this year.

His response. Well, you'll be on my lap....face down and bottom up!

I'm just wondering how much work is going to get done today?

Wednesday, 7 December 2011

A Night in Nottingham

So there I was, innocently tasting the delights of a Scarlett Miss Charlotte when he reclines into the comfort of the corner sofa in the Revolution bar and says
     'Talk dirty to me.'
I gave the request a moments thought and then responded.
     'I did give thought to arranging a meet ..... without you knowing.' It was an honest answer.
     'Why didn't you?'
     'Because I am ever conscious that I don't want to dominate the play time with single guys. You need your play time too.' Very unselfish of me but again an honest answer.

He picks up his iPhone and logs on to our swingers profile. He updates the status and puts out the request for a hotel meet.

Our profile receives many hits in a short space of time and then the messages started coming in. We ignore all those that couldn't be arsed to send a photo and I did have to tussle over the ones that looked okay but their profiles were not up to scratch (call me old fashioned but anyone that can't string a few words together in the Queen's English rather than using txt talk, I am wary of).

One guy looked promising. I message him back and confess to time running short but that we would be happy to meet for a drink after the concert. He is at least an hour away. His message back confirms he does not have a car so meeting would not be possible as trains were not convenient. For goodness sake man, you replied to a request to meet because.....????? 

Suffice to say, we met no-one. Although having said that if I'd have taken the bull by the horns I could probably have pulled the young (twenty something) barman but I didn't have the courage. Maybe next time.
However, the whole exercise was very interesting. There was a great buzz about trying to arrange a meet, very last minute to see what happened and it did re-ignite a conversation about the possibility of going to a club and playing the single female scenario with husband close at hand to keep an eye on proceedings. That would be a huge thrill.

And we are back in Nottingham next Spring. So maybe I just will organise a little bit of fun and surprise my husband with it on the day....... and it just so happens I have someone in mind already.

Monday, 5 December 2011

Blind Date



Tonight I met the glorious Mariella. An introduction through a mutual friend.  The two hours we spent alone in an hotel room passed in what seemed no time at all.  Occasionally, just once in a while, you meet someone with whom you hit it off straight away. My first glimpse of her,across the room, in a body, fishnets, shoes, blond hair and a smile, had me smiling back and saying something, whatever, I hoped that would  put her at ease.  There is a thrill to this kind of blind date. Our mutual friend had described me to her and she in turn had agreed to meet me. Standing either side of a hotel door with me in the corridor awaiting entry is a little like the television show.  The partition slides back and your first reaction tells her all.


Our mutual friend having done the introductions, disappeared off to let us get acquainted.  He is a voyeur.  I know that he will look in on us now and then and get his kicks imagining what we have been doing, perhaps picturing himself in my shoes.  I have asked him what he gets out of this kind of scenario. I think I understand, when he tells me of the thrill he gets from imagining that I am with his significant other.  A fantasy that cannot come true, but can be virtually lived out through my copulation with Mariella.  I take for granted being the front man and the one stepping into the unknown. For him, my being his proxy is as close as he wants to get. I think of it as a question of confidence.  I enjoy making something happen. The magician, conjuring an erotic encounter out of thin air.


In this case, mostly hot air.  I can talk for England and Mariella matched me every step. She had from me my swinger's life story, my philosophy on single guys and this blog. I skipped over my recent encounter with the G, though by now I guess she will have read about it.  In return I learned her family status, how she had not had sex for eighteen months and some history that she won't have shared too often. Women are attractive to me for myriad reasons.  It may be their overall beauty, particular features, or manner of speaking.  For me the greatest is enthusiasm and Mariella has this in spades. Everything we did was such fun.  Her eyes shone and I was getting so many compliments, I could have put her in my pocket to bring out the next time I am feeling down. 


Sometimes the greatest compliments are unintentional. Mariella was still in her body and stockings.  The shoes had long gone. The body had been popped from between her legs so that I could lick and taste her pussy and her breasts were now exposed, but otherwise it remained intact.  We were talking about skin, stroking and touching.  She asked if I would like her to remove the body. I concurred and she did so, exposing to me some of the history I referred to earlier. I was touched by her confidence in me.  Thinking about this, I have noticed on many occasions, women who retain some clothing, be it a basque or nightdress, usually something that covers the torso. Retaining a little mystery can be erotic, but often I think the motive is more one of selfconsciousness and body self image.


On this occasion, stripping naked, save for one fishnet stocking that we agreed should be kept on for modesty, meant that we could step up the passion another notch. Mariella had exposed herself to me and I could now explore and discover her navel piercing. I adore skin to skin contact and in a 69 position I was steadily heading towards an orgasm in her mouth.  We switched around I expected we were working towards coitus.  I asked her if she likes cum in her mouth, thinking about how we might finish when I orgasm.  Actually the game was, two smacks on my bum for yes, one for no and that had just been one of my questions.   Mariella then asks me, “Why don't you come in my pussy on our second date?” It took a while for the implications of this statement to sink in.  Both erotic and a challenge. She had just told me she wanted us to meet again and had at the same moment challenged me not to fuck her, but to let her fellate me to orgasm.  What a choice.  I was aching to feel her pussy surrounding my cock.  To feel it sliding deep inside her. That is why I was there. To abstain tonight? To forgo that pleasure, on the promise of another day to come?  How deliciously balanced it was.  How would it feel when and if, I finally found myself buried inside her?  


I'll always take the erotic option, though I wasn't confident that I would be able to come without the stimulation of her vagina on me.  This then became a challenge for us both. I would have to guide her to give me the sensations I would need to be able to come and I in turn would have to find in her body and the moment the stimulation to coax from my balls a two week store of semen. This was going to be mental. I looked for it in her labia and with my tongue in her vagina. I could feel it building when I tasted the metal of her navel piercing. When my two fingers were inside her, stroking where she had told me she most enjoyed, I imagined they were my cock and that her lips and mouth on me were her pussy. Little by little I was getting nearer.  Conscious that if we rushed, I may not achieve the strength of feeling that I would need for a strong ejaculation. I cautioned Mariella, to be very gentle on me and I'm sure that she would have found that incredibly frustrating as all she wanted was to suck the life and cream from my cock. 


Our patience paid off, as I found myself close enough to take matters in my own hands to bring myself over the edge.  My penis now in her mouth, I came. She took it out and directed my second and subsequent spurts around her mouth and face. As the ripples subsided she used my penis as a spatula to further spread the semen over her mouth.


And then I kissed her.

Tuesday, 29 November 2011

Back on my feet


I have got over my maudlin moment, triggered by some regret that I didn't have time to talk to my date last night. She had rung and wanted to talk over some concerns following her Saturday at a party. We had spent the night on Friday in Town, hanging out with the Erotica after show crowd in an hotel bar. We'd pulled. Well, my date had pulled. A black guy, Jay, who recognised her from a party we'd been to several weeks earlier. He came back to our room for an entertaining threesome. This was who and what my date wanted. I had met my date some months before at a gangbang organised for another friend. It was my date's first experience with multiple guys and she loved it. Not in the scene and not even online, I had offered to introduce her to the people and places I knew and since we have become firm friends. 


Back in our room, I found I could not relate to Jay. Although beautiful, which I'll describe in due course, he had some habits over which I am particular. For example, when I come in a condom, I like to tie it in a knot before disposal. Jay, having come, copiously I might add in his, decided upon removal to discard it on the bed. I was horrified. I envisaged his ejaculate leaking on to the duvet. A duvet under which, my date and I would later be sleeping, ffs! Getting back to his beauty, I found myself at one point fucking my date. She had his penis in her lips.She was licking it, much as you would a cigarette paper when rolling one of your own. My face next to her's, was inches from his tool and it was beautiful. Ebony black, smooth skinned and uniform straight. A designer prick. I would have joined my date licking the other side, but didn't feel a connection that would permit me to ask. I pictured his distaste and could foresee our scene crashing to an untimely end. A pity really, as my date would have been even more turned on and it would have been an extremely hot moment.


MMF threesomes are not exactly what I am seeking these days. I'm glad that my date is fulfilling her fantasies and I am happy to facilitate that, but somehow it just isn't enough. We always have fun and the time we spend in bed once the crowds have gone is special, but I am missing the chase of the evening. I am missing the challenge to achieve something fresh. Attracting a single guy to a threesome is just too easy. This alone had not been enough to cause the mood that descended upon me Tuesday. There are invariably other components. The second being something I did, or did not do. I don't know which, or even what it was. Last week I had contacted a new lady and arranged to meet for a drink. At the weekend I had missed her call to me and had been unable to make contact back. Calls were unanswered and messages unreturned. I imagined her ire at a missed promise from me and my prospect of getting to know someone new being snatched from me.


I started the year on my own. One by one people chose to invite me into their inner circles, just what I needed and wanted for myself. I find myself now only going to events, where I am known, with a partner, or group of friends. What I have mislaid is my sense of adventure and my enthusiasm for a night at risk. The risk that I must stand on my own two feet, trust myself to the gods and risk rejection by my fellow night travellers. The edge has gone. I am playing too safe and whilst I already know it, this is the third strand that has pulled a shroud around me. What should I do? Reject my friends? Of course not, they are special and I cherish each and every one, but I will not be the person they first invited into their lives unless I return to my roots and rediscover the man that once had the world at his feet.

Friday, 25 November 2011

Crisis of Confidence


I have had a glimpse of why some in the public spotlight may occasionally find themselves having a crisis of confidence. In my own small way I have had a fantastic run this year, with new playmates, club visits and parties. Generally feeling the love, but when it gets turned off, you find yourself wondering where did it go wrong?  Don't get me wrong, while most single guys in the scene are plugging away hoping for their first meet, I really don't have anything to complain about.


I'm talking about insecurity. Why may people want to spend time with me?  What am I doing that attracts the interest and how do I ensure I keep doing whatever that is?  My enforced lay off of late has taken some of the momentum from my socialising and left me looking carefully at what I do and how I behave. I question my motives and also what is motivating my partners to be with me.  I am probably over thinking this, but cannot shake off a feeling that my time may be up.


There is security in a relationship.  A couple in the scene will share their ups and downs, but there is a constancy.  When it isn't working for one, it will be for the other.  The singleton is on their own.  Today's success remains just that, today's.  It is no pointer towards tomorrow.  Each day we reinvent ourselves, put up our latest facade, create our most recent persona. Chameleon's adapting to the environment in which we find ourselves. Today the rampant bull, tomorrow the sensitive respectful single. You're looking for bi curious?  I can do that. A dominant male that will have your partner submitting to his will?  No problem.  


I sometimes wonder if I lose who I really am in all of this and perhaps that is at the core of how I'm feeling today.   Tomorrow, this feeling will pass.  I'll wonder what I'm fretting about and get back to what I truly love.  Performing on the stage of life, bringing a smile to those who meet me and a fond memory when I have gone.

Tuesday, 22 November 2011

In Limbo

Thankfully, the wait is almost over. The last twelve days have been.....well, to be honest I don't know how to describe them.

I have felt flat to say the least. My husband and I both do. Dark Knight mailed me and suggested I call the clinic after a week. I did just that but to no avail. The nurses will call you next week, the receptionist advised me. Thanks. I kind of feel this is more punishment, making sure we abide by the rules of no sex until our results are confirmed, to avoid any further spread of G which I know in my own mind we do not have. Dark Knight's re-tests were necessary in case I had re-infected him after his initial treatment. He has the all clear, after a week I might add. He humorously suggested the city air might have sped up his recovery. Bollocks, I say with a wry smile. Another point, whilst talking all this over with another playmate, he dismissed the importance of getting checked out claiming if his wife is all clear, then so must he be. I am disappointed to say the least. I will have to broach the subject with him another time when hopefully he will be a little more responsive and grown up about the seriousness of the matter.

I hope you are not detecting any kind of bitter undertone for that is not the case. I am just chomping at the bit, desperate to get back into the saddle, to find a Grand National runner and ride to glory again.

I have taken up afternoon masturbation in order to keep some control of my sexual urges. Duracell must be over the moon...they won't be going out of business anytime soon.

Wednesday, 16 November 2011

Sexual Health

This is not the easiest of subjects to broach but I'll cut to the chase. There is a slight risk I have been exposed to Gonorrhea.

I played with a single guy, regular and trustworthy back in September. I received a call from him at the end of October saying he had visited the GUM clinic to get himself checked out after noticing a discharge. He was initially treated for an infection but when tests came back the results showed positive for G. Even though he was sure he picked up the infection after our last play date, he suggested I visit the clinic to be on the safe side. My husband and I were due for our next Hepatitis vaccine anyway so I just brought the appointment forward.

During my first consultation, which was for my next Hepatitis B jab I mention the G. This changed everything. I am asked by the nurses to phone my contact. He sounds sleepy, like I've just woken him. He gives me all the information I need; date of birth, clinic he was treated at, etc. Our notes will be cross-referenced as a means of discovering the source of the infection.

I spent the following two and half hours in and out of consultation rooms speaking to Doctors and nurses. First the routine questions regarding our general health then about sexual activity. I have two swabs taken from my mouth, vagina and back passage (they will be tested by two different types of technology). Constantly the medical staff talked, offering advice and answering my questions. There was so much to take in. They took a blood sample too, to check for Syphilis and HIV - that will be sent away for analysis.

We waited. Good news. The initial results (samples have been examined under a microscope) indicated no trace of G. Only the laboratory tests will give us conclusive results. For those we have to wait two weeks. The doctor tells us we will both be given a course of anti-biotic for chlamydia; four tablets to be taken in one dose. I was also given medication for traces of thrush that were found in my vagina (a pessary to be inserted before bedtime). What is optional, however is a one off jab to treat G....just in case. For goodness sake, it's a no brainer. One small jab in the bottom with little chance of side effects. I'll take it.

I am returned to the nurses. First the jab. Painless. Next the tablets. Swallowed. Then the chat....and it is a chat, not a lecture. They are there, to educate and advise on all matters of a sexual nature. I am advised not to have sex for the next two weeks, not even with my husband. Difficult but probably necessary. I left feeling drained, my head swimming with new information I never thought I would have to take on board. During the drive home, I felt sick; physically sick. Not a reaction to any of the medication, just a reaction to the situation. There is only one other course of action I had to take and that was to cancel our next two meets. It would be irresponsible of me to do anything other.

Sunday, 13 November 2011

Educating DK - Back to the Clinic


The call on Thursday took me by surprise. My partner of the previous Monday had gone for a check and mentioned her potential exposure to G when we had met some two months earlier. Alarm bells were rung, resources mobilised and I was asked to go back to my clinic and tell them that I had had sex with her before her treatment. I had just been given the all clear, my partner was in excellent health and I didn't recall anyone telling me not to have sex with former partners until after they had been treated. 


Here is where the health professional's message had not been heard loud and clear.  Exposure to Gonorrhoea demands treatment, not a check.  Results of a test may give a false negative and the priority is to prevent the spread of infection.  Treatment is automatic and I was supposed to stay away from my former partners until they had been treated.  On reflection this is what I had been told, but I had not thought through exactly what this meant. More accurately, I didn't believe that I had been carrying the infection two months earlier. My partner would be treated automatically, but I now had to be given the treatment once again.  'It has been one huge learning curve', she told me.  


Exactly that, I was saying to the nurse as she plunged a syringe into my right buttock.  The second such assault on me in two weeks. The nurse seeking to reassure, warned that I would feel a 'little scratch'.  I'm not convinced this is the best approach. I would prefer to be told its going to be a 'big prick'. It could be taken as a compliment by men, although ladies having the treatment may not get quite what they expect.


'No sex for a week please', said the doctor, as if I needed reminding. Apparently I did, otherwise I wouldn't have been there. Another appointment made for me to see 'Dawn', the health advisor. She is going to be so disappointed.

Educating DK - Safer sex.


I'm clean, for the moment. The question is how shall I retain my recently acquired pristine status? 
I'm afraid we have to discuss safe oral sex. My health adviser informs me that the risk of infection through oral sex is the same as with intercourse. HIV has less risk, but for skin on skin transmitted infections such as Gonorrhoea, contact is sufficient. To make matters worse, Gonorrhoea is resistant to all but one antibiotic for now. If it develops immunity to that, we will have no effective treatment. From a health professional's perspective, the task is to change individual attitudes to the risks posed by oral sex.
I have to decide if I am part of the problem or will try to become part of the solution. If I am a mature, responsible and rational person, this should be a no brainer. For me there are three factors that will influence my future behaviour.
One. Do I believe the consequences of unprotected oral sex are unacceptable. 
Two. What are my partners’ attitudes toward oral sex with protection.
Three. The swinging community adopting a culture of safe sex for all sexual contact.
There is an upside to all this. I have discovered a new range of toys to play with; flavoured condoms designed for oral, latex sheets to mould around my partner's genitals and my favourite, the female condom.
So it seems that we do have to mention safe oral sex. The conversation at my next party has just become even more interesting.

Educating DK - Misadventure pt 2


So I thought, until five days later, when 'Dawn' called me from the clinic.  I had tested positive for Gonorrhoea.  What? It was only the once and I thought I knew her so well.  And it was anal, so how can it be? And there is only one partner that she has sex with without a condom and he has been a regular for years. Wait a minute!  I had assumed my infection may have been from anal sex, but we had, just the once had unprotected vaginal sex.  Still, I can't believe I have caught it from her.


There is no choice for me, I have to tell her .... and oh Lord, how many other partners? The health advisor said I should inform partners with whom I had had sex with a condom as they were still potentially at risk and would need a test and treatment.  Mention at the clinic that you have been exposed to Gonorrhoea and immediate treatment is automatic.  My appointment to see Dawn and be treated is in two days.


My date is shocked when I tell her.  It is her first experience, as mine, to this sort of health issue.  The next twenty-four hours are a blur as I fathom whom I need to tell.  How can I contact some? How will they react? I see my reputation going up in flames and the regular social life I had been enjoying, disappearing from view as I become the pariah, the one to avoid.  The reaction would be irrational, as I would be the safest partner in the room, recently treated, more certain of my current health status and more aware than most of the risks and how to minimise them.


By day two, my mind is balanced.  I am determined to inform all who may be at risk and a few who may benefit from greater awareness of the risks we all take.  The calls won't be easy and they are going to spoil the weekends of those I call. A discussion with one friend has him considering just telling his partner that I have some unspecified problem, but should probably go along for a check just to make sure. No! She has to know. Painful as it may be, she cannot tell her health worker the truth if she doesn't know what it is.


All this gets me thinking about the questions that we ask, not our new partners, but our regular ones.  Do we want to know the history of their sexual health?  Do we ask, when they were last, if ever, checked? What about their practices, do they have partners with whom they have intercourse without a condom? What about anal sex?  Let's not even mention safe oral sex!


Conversation at the next party I attend is going to be very interesting.

Educating DK - Misadventure pt 1


A recent anal misadventure resulted in the need to visit my local GUM clinic. Nothing too serious fortunately, but a biological slap on the wrist. Experiences like this drive home the importance of practising safe sex and taking responsibility for your actions. No amount of education sinks in as well as consequence, but the risks associated with education by experience are just too great to ignore. 


The doctor questioned my recent sexual history. I fluffed one question, "how many partners have you had in the last three months?" I guessed at four, but it turns out there are five. Five that I can recall and that with the help of my diary.


I recommend the GUM clinic to all sexually promiscuous people, whether practicing safe sex or not. The risks are always there and you won't know your partner's history, unless they post it in a blog. A regular visit will keep you in touch with reality. The choices you make are yours, but they will be better informed.


Will I risk unprotected anal sex again? I certainly hope not and thank my stars that this time nature was forgiving of me.

Sunday, 6 November 2011

My date as a couple, by DK


Friday was a first for two reasons.
First I was out playing as a couple, whereas I am usually the single accompanying a couple. Second; using viagra. Using twice actually, against doctor's orders. I'll confess next appointment. 


With her husband's knowledge and permission, my date would stay overnight with me and we would return home in the morning. This was her first proper house party. We had met through a mutual friend at a private party with another five guys. It was an organised gangbang, my date's first time with multiple men and she loved it. Coming with me tonight would be daunting, because this was a much bigger affair and my date would be obliged to socialise. Being a Friday there would also be a lot of men attending.


On arrival I was staggered at how many single guys there were, twenty or thirty and perhaps four or five couples. I was glad to be one of them. My date tells me she feels comfortable in the surroundings, we sort out some drinks and begin a tour of the premises. There is a huge buffet, a lounge sporting a pole, four bedrooms and a dungeon in the attic. 


We settle in the lounge and chat with David who is bi and Beth who is with partner John. Beth flirts with me and pays me a few compliments. It is an opportunity that I recognise too late and will regret having missed. In the course of the night my date will play with half a dozen men whose names we will know and a similar number that we won't. Being first timers as a couple we haven't worked out boundaries or rules. I want her to have the best possible experience and tell her that we can stay together or circulate singly, play together or apart, whatever makes her comfortable. She tells me if she sees a lady she fancies she may play, but mainly wants to find some fanciable guys. The only rule we agree on is that we end the night together and that we will fuck.


My date wants to refresh her drink, declines my offer to do it and heads off to flirt. At stages throughout the evening, I will find her in the garden with 3 or 4 men, in the hallway chatting to a couple of guys, in the kitchen with another stranger. She would never be alone, rarely with me and this was fine. 


For myself, I had checked upstairs and received offers from two couples. I duly reported them to my date, but declined to take them up, perhaps later. I danced; received some applause for a pole dancing effort and generally circulated, checking in on my date to ensure she was ok. Always, she was.


By early morning I had lost track of her. I checked every corner, but no sight of her. Even the attic, where there was some play but no sign of my partner of the night. One bedroom was locked and I assumed she would be in there with her captives. I find myself in the kitchen with Anita. She is looking for Joe, her partner. Joe had earlier suggested we should all play. Joe is an occasional partner. We chat, she takes my number and I'm feeling good. That done, we head out to track down our wayward other halves and find them amid a pile of bodies in the attic.


My date having found someone she liked, had been invited up to the attic for a one to one. Ola, the man, taking insufficient precaution had allowed two others to watch. Predictably the two had chanced their arm with touching and while my date and Ola each waited for the other to object, a twosome turned into a foursome. The foursome multiplied into seven and when I arrived, Ola had retreated to the eaves. I checked to ensure that she was coping with the attention and found myself in the gloom, quizzing each suitor in turn to ensure condoms were in place before girding their loins in hers.


I'm annoyed with Ola for allowing the situation to get out of control. Any one, may have attempted intercourse without a condom and I wouldn't trust strangers to behave no matter how they may protest. Safe sex is a must. No exceptions. 


My date was coping with the multiple phalluses being presented and mouths aplenty sought out her nipples, mouth and nether lips. Bi Dave, was in the thick, alternating between sucking her nipples and a cock suspended above her head, the owner of which appeared to care not which mouth enclosed him as his cock alternated from my date's to Dave's mouths. At last we called time on a session that had started at one am. It was now three.


Descending the attic steps, my date heads into the nearby toilet. Leaving the door ajar, she invites Ola inside and closes door behind him. Twenty minutes later they are back out and the next time I see her she is in the garden chatting with some more guys. The morning proceeds as two by two, she takes four more favourites to play in the bedrooms.


I'll confess to feeling a bit left out, as the party has wound down. There are no ladies for me to flirt with and just a few guys wandering around hoping for a late score. I find myself with sad Martin. He had been turned down earlier by my date. He's complaining he can't find a woman for regular meets and a possible relationship. I gently advise him that this may not be the best way to look. You can't go looking for a fuck buddy. You make friends and some may become regular meets. Then maybe, just maybe, one could become your fb. I don't point out to him that my date has had several guys she couldn't have known and had he played his cards right he would have been one of them. He's had a miserable night. For some men an orgasm with a woman is the only difference between a good and bad night. 


A young man joins us, it turns out he is twenty two. He had been chatting with us in the garden earlier. It seems my date had invited him to play, but the other guys had frozen him out and closed the door on him. He wants advice on what to do. I advise him, go back, wait for door to open and present yourself. Ten more minutes pass and I wonder why I'm not taking my own advice.


Back upstairs, a few sharp raps on the door and I gain entry. My date is with the young man and another guy. I'm satisfied to watch and in no hurry to share. The party is finished and dawn is breaking. Soon it is time for these guys to leave us alone. We are the last two standing and it is time we were in bed. 


Stripped naked under the duvet, an embrace turns into a languid kiss as we dissolve into each other. She wants me and sure as hell, I want her. I roll my weight on to her. There is no urgency, we are enjoying some time together after an evening apart. As we play, tease, suckle and kiss, my penis finds itself between her legs, probing at her pubis as we move. We are just enjoying each other, being playful.


Neither of us wants to break the moment, but the moment will ask a question. Inevitably my cocks finds its way, sightless, to nestle between her labia. She is moist and I am ready. We look at each other and I'm sure one of us asks if this is what we want. I think I make the decision for us. The head of my penis slips between her lips and the skin of my penis feels the inside of her vagina. You hear the phrase "it felt so right" and this did, but was it?


I feel so close to this woman, deep inside. I have waited all night for this moment and every stroke inside her is burned to my memory. Every, kiss, lick and nibble is savoured. When I come, it is intense, our whole bodies joined as one. I am out of breath, my full weight on my partner and as my breathing slows, she whispers into my ear, "thank you for not fucking me".

Friday, 4 November 2011

Lust

She teases me with her wicked, wanton eyes. I love the way they dance and sparkle as she talks of sex and her yearnings to experience something a little different.

From the moment we first kissed, on that warm summer's afternoon, she has dominated my thoughts.  She fills my dreams that have me awaken with a wetness between my thighs.

I fantasise about our being together; kissing, touching, tasting, stroking and long slow exploring. I want to brush every inch of her curvaceous body, bring her to orgasm then envelope her whole form with my own as her body slowly recovers. 

Lord, my pussy's wet again.

I need her. Desperately.

Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Eleven to Nineteen

Since posting One Year On I have left you hanging; wondering about the rest of the guys I have had sex with. It's time I brought you up to date.
Number 11 played with me the same night I had number ten. He was part of a couple that we had met with before but that was a year ago when we were innocent and new to the scene. C was amazed to say the least as we started to play together, him not quite believing I was the same woman he met and took gently under his wing on our second visit to a club. He is totally adorable and I would be more than happy to meet up with him (and his wife) again.
Number 12 was a little bit unexpected to say the least. He was the other 60 year old that I have played with. We had been chatting on line for quite some time and we eventually met (through fate I add and not a planned meet) at a venue in London. As we knew no-one else there it was easy for us to hang out with this couple and spend some time really getting to know them. My reservations regarding any play time were in place because of his old school attitude and his constant 'blinkered' attitude towards the single guy market. However, the day progressed well and one thing led to another and we ended up having some fun.
Number 13 happened at a club. We met pretty much on walking through the door, hit it off really well, started playing in the hot tub then moved to a private room. He and his wife were terrific company, she had an orgasm whilst I was down on her and we have met with them since. Number 14 was a quick consolation single guy shag before we left the club that night.
Now, number 15 was a true joy. I had my eyes on him the moment he entered the garden area. I can't believe I didn't speak of him in more detail in Friday Frolics. With shoulder length, black curly hair and dark skin he stood out from the crowd. I wanted him. I sat in a position that allowed me to hold a conversation with my Husband and Dark Knight whilst simultaneously and effortlessly watching his every move. I could watch him, watching me. It wasn't long before he joined us for some fun. With the hands of Ed and Dark Knight all over me I was experiencing the touch of one I was familiar with along with exciting sensations that being with a new lover brings; I was close to heaven. I was also very aware of the fact that we had an audience, a very good reason to send adrenalin pumping through my body at an incredible rate. I concentrated on the job in hand, which for quite a while was Ed's dark cock; a thick length of smooth, Italian flesh, gorgeous to touch and delicious to taste. He wanted to come in my mouth but I refused. He wanted to come over my tits. I refused. 'You can fuck me when you're ready.' I'm not sure he was expecting that but without any question, and condom in place he turned me over onto all fours. I went down on DK. Ed went at it hard and fast, so much so, I had to pull away from sucking one dark cock to ask him to slow the pace down. We found new rhythm and with a shift of position I was able to take his whole length until he reached his climax. Later that day, before he left he came over to say thank you once again. My God. I thought he looked good naked but dressed in his grey pinstripe trousers and crisp white shirt partly buttoned up he was totally drop dead gorgeous. I had definitely pulled a cracker there girls, let me tell you! I just hope our paths cross again at some point in the not too distant future.
Sixteen and seventeen have been immortalised in 'A Weekend Away'

Okay, we're getting there. I hope you are keeping up.
I am tempted to give away the identity of number 18 as many want him but I feel few will actually have him; I must restrain myself. The club was quiet that night but I had my eyes on him all the time and made my interest and intentions very clear. It started with conversation, during which time there was plenty of eye contact and as much light touching I thought was necessary to get my message across. He confessed to not enjoying the chase; that in one of his jobs as a salesman the chase was fine because if the answer was no then it was by no means a reflection on him. However, when playing the market, rejection becomes very personal. For some it is hard to deal with. So some single guys wait for the come on. I was going to make it very easy for him. He made some comment about me being overdressed for the evening. I had left the house with my basque and stockings covered with a grey party dress from Next. I said that I was more than happy to slip off my dress and headed for the changing rooms. I really had not expected him to follow me (honestly) but I was pleased he did. He sat and watched me peel off my outer layer to reveal my brand new corset purchased earlier that day.
'Oh would you look at that,' I remarked 'the colour matches your tie perfectly.'
He stood up and he lifted his tie up to the soft fabric of my under garment.
He pressed into me, put one arm around my waist and touched the bare flesh of my buttock with his free hand.
We were locked in an amazing kiss, with me quivering in my black heels, feeling like I was about to gush there and then on the changing room floor. The rush I felt was awesome. This was the first time I had really exerted my power over a man and boy did it feel great!
To move on swiftly, in the hot tub, husband and I engaged in some soft play with a couple we had been chatting to in the bar. Now if I am honest, I wasn't really into this guy at all....a tad geeky for my liking and blond. Not that I should hold that against him but I do seem to favour the dark haired males. The party soon broke up as my guy called a halt to proceedings, feeling feint as the water in the hot tub was too hot! They didn't come back to us after that. No loss really.
So Husband & I played on the bed alone. I was happily down on him, outstretched on my tummy, head buried in his groin, doing what I love to do when all of a sudden I felt hot breath on my naked butt cheeks. Without breaking my mouth to cock contact I looked up at my husband, who was lying there smiling at me. I had no need to look around, knowing full well who was paying me the extra attention.
The kisses were tender, his hands were warm and sensitive and his big thick cock was great to suck …..but not so easy to fuck. During a ninety minute play session, we must have moved through ten or so positions (some of which I hadn't tried before) and found that two allowed me to accommodate him comfortably. I did apologise for being fussy and eventually he finger fucked me until I gushed over the bed. My husband quickly went down on me, and I watched my guy wank himself off about an inch or so from my face. I was turned on by the sight and watched with fascination at his technique of a few short strokes followed by one long stroke, repeated until he shot his thick liquid over my bare breasts. WOW!! Such an amazing experience and so fucking horny, it was quite surreal. I will definitely be going back for more.

Nineteen has the whole package going on; charm, good looks, great body, extremely polite, easy going and down to earth. Since we met five months ago, we have become good friends, interacting through a social networking site, texting and calling each other every now and then. After weeks of anticipation, the slow undressing, kissing, touching, tasting and caressing were more than I ever could have expected. This meet proved more sensual than most as this was no quick fuck. The friendship that had developed beforehand, made the sex so much better. Orgasm after orgasm had me biting the pillows, digging my heels in and moaning and screaming with pleasure. At the end of our play, I lie exhausted, light headed and dehydrated. Sated. A great way to spend a Thursday afternoon.


I have no idea where we go from here. The whole twelve months has been unreal. Can it get any better? I hope so, but if not this will have been good enough.
When we started the journey, husband and I had few expectations. We were prepared to let it go at any stage, should one of us feel this was not strengthening our relationship. I can’t imagine that either of us would consider doing so now, having gained so much; personal confidence, a closer bond between us and unbreakable friendships. We look forward to the next year, not to set some new record, or tick another item on our wish list, but to continue to explore the seemingly limitless variety of sensations, emotions and imagination the swinging community has to offer.

Monday, 24 October 2011

Happy Anniversary

     Last Saturday was the first anniversary of my losing my swinging virginity and I am going to congratulate myself on having travelled a long way in that time.
     There have been a few meets at home, two house parties, ten club visits, five different club venues and a long weekend away at a naturists/swinging resort in Europe.
     I have fucked 15 guys and played with half a dozen women. Cocks have been pierced, twisted and circumcised. The ladies have been shaven, well trimmed and pierced. Some guys I have played with on more than one occasion, others have been fucked and left but far from forgotten. A couple of them have become close friends that I hope will be around for a long time to come.

      These people are all every day folks and come from all walks of life. I have had three guys in uniform (one, quite literally) four if you count the postman. They range in age across their thirties, forties, fifties and sixties. Yes,  I said sixties. The women have ranged from size 8's to 18's. I have been attracted to them all. I have had threesomes. foursomes and moresomes.

    I have expanded my collection of lingerie, shoes and boots to the point where I need more storage space and have experimented with spanking, sex swings and bondage.

     My marriage is stronger than ever, my sex drive has rocketed through the roof and self-confidence has soared so much that friends keep asking what my secret is (if only they knew!)

So, what's on the agenda for next year? How can we possibly keep the excitement going and make life any better?

     For me personally, I would love to experience sex with a twenty something and if I can add a fireman to my list of uniforms that would be perfect. I definitely want to explore the dungeons more and get a real feel for being chained and restrained in a completely controlled environment. One of my fantasies is to be blindfolded and fucked by a small group of men whom I may never know! I will have to hand the organisation over to my husband and Dark Knight but I trust them both implicitly. I will be investing in more underwear, hopefully some PVC outfits and I just HAVE to get some great bedroom boots!


     There is plenty of fun to be had and enough new avenues to investigate and of course, a whole world of beautiful people we are yet to meet and have fun with. If the next twelve months contains half the excitement of the previous year I shall be more than happy and rest assured, if you continue to follow my blog, you will be reading about it!!!

Until the next time ….... be good ;)

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Addicted to porn (by DK)

It has been so busy recently on the swinger front, that I may have stumbled across a cure for my porn addiction. For addicted I am. Rare, the night would pass that I would not logon to uporn, xhamster (my favourite), or any of a dozen available to assuage my need for gratification. I'd happily spend two hours flicking through clips, giving each a few seconds before moving on, until I found the one that would meet my sensibilities for that night. I say 'happily', but I'm not happy. Irritated would be closer, as with each clip I find some flaw to annoy me. Fake 'oohs' and 'aahs' repeated endlessly, a lazy actress, or some outlandish and unlikely scenario. I find myself switching channels much as one would with the tv remote, when you have endless choice, but none that hold your attention. Scanning the endless variety of porn, in time, is just boring. You can have too much of a good thing. So how cured? It dawned on me this week that I haven't so much as thought about watching a porn video, let alone felt the need to. I have a routine when preparing for a meet, party, or whatever. Rule 1. No masturbation for one week before. Rule 2. I'll accept five days if I forget Rule 1. Rule 3. Avoid meets on consecutive days, unless you plan to cheat on the first meet by faking an orgasm. I have, to my shame. Rule 2, is probably the only one that counts. The others are aspirational. And so, with a party, club, or just being on a promise, pretty much every weekend for the last month or so, Rule 1 has cured me of my porn addiction. Of course, I still perv the dozens of erotic images that land in my phone from my Twitter account, but that doesn't count, does it?

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

Just A Quick Word.........

Thank You
Firstly, a huge thank you to our followers. Dark Knight and I insist that we write for ourselves, but having others along for the ride makes the journey far more exciting. To those we know personally, your loyalty and continued words of encouragment are greatly appreciated and those who only know us in the virtual world we send out even greater thanks. We have no idea how you found us, but truly pleased that you did. We hope you will stay around for some time to come, as life on the swinging scene constantly brings about new experiences and emotions that we just love to share with you all. .

Erotic Flash Fiction
Some of you only follow My Erotic Journey, our reports on real life experiences. We do however, love a good fantasy and from time to time let our imaginations run away with us and come up with some fictional pieces. One such story is The Doctor, written by Dark Knight. I urge you to check it out.
http://kateseroticfiction.blogspot.com/

Feedback and Comments
Some feedback and comments have already been received but we would love more! We are not in a position to give out our email details at this point in time but if you post your comment and wish to remain anonymous, we will respect your privacy when we respond.


Have fun! KW xx

Thursday, 6 October 2011

One Year On.....

As the first anniversary of our baptism into swinging fast approaches, I am reflecting once again on a wonderful year of excitement and new discoveries.  Not believing for one minute that I would reach double figures of sexual partners by the end of 2011 but that I am indeed very likely to reach twenty by the time our anniversary actually comes around.

Having had three lovers before I met my husband, I have subsequently taken another thirteen; some more significant than others. This brings my running total to seventeen and with a club visit due Friday, I am hoping to notch up two more (one guy from a couple and one single) leaving the way clear for a very special number twenty.

So, number five was significant, without doubt; my first new man in more than twenty years. We met on several occasions and had a real blast. He was a delight to be with, encouraging, supportive and every part the gentleman I needed him to be. Sadly, he is no longer on the scene and we have not spoken for some months. Number six has become a great friend and we socialise more than we play. He and his wife are terrific company. Number seven was no more than a quickie at a house party (that’ll teach me for lying on the bed with my legs open!) and number eight gave me a good seeing to whilst I was suspended in a sex swing at a club about two weeks later. A week on from that number nine and his gorgeous wife came to visit and that was some night, let me tell you.

Number Ten
I was determined number ten would be very special, and he was. A single gentleman who had known us from the beginning, had proved himself to be utterly respectful in every sense and was now at this point, already a great friend, mentor and confidant. We invited him along to a club, but gave no promises. He totally understood.

To cut a very long story short, in the bar, our group of three soon became five then very quickly a seven as two other couples we knew joined us for drinks. We all interacted extremely well and it was very evident a good night was ahead of us.

In the hot tub, I became the centre of attention as one of our couples made a play for me. My single guy was happy to look on until my husband invited him to join in. I was conscious of his touch from the outset even though I had other hands on me at the time. His hands, easily identifiable by the dark skin tone against my own fair freckled skin.
I remember being supported, horizontally in the water by my husband as Dark Knight made his way between my legs. I couldn’t help but wonder how long he could stay there lapping at my juices with so much water around. He must have taken on nearly half a litre in small gulps, I reckon but it was the sounds that I adored. I’m not sure if anyone else could here them or if I was more aware of them because they were accompanied by a strong suction sensation on my swollen pussy. With so many in the tub, most with their hands on me and a few on lookers, I was out of my comfort zone, so asked to move to one of the beds.
The water party duly broke apart and we adjourned to the comfort of a semi secluded spot.

The five of us (three guys, two ladies) had immense fun, moving from partner to partner, the guys having a choice of four breasts and two pussies, the girls having a choice of three cocks, two breasts and a pussy to play with (who says it’s hard being a woman?).
I distinctly remember lying there, being tended to by someone and looking at my Italian guest as he knelt close by, watching the action and can remember how doubtful I was about touching someone whose skin colour was so very different to mine. (It is only as I write that I now know why this was; a difficult childhood memory has just come to mind. Thankfully I remember this now and not then as the night could have taken a very different turn.) I quickly dismissed my demons and took the bull by the horns as it were and grabbed for his semi erect penis. I pulled him closer and soon he was above me, allowing me to suck on him and manipulate his balls like some kind of stress toy. He became much harder and as soon as my body became clear of others, he leaned over me to form a perfect sixty nine. His cock was now well and truly submerged into my mouth and underneath him I was writhing in pleasure and his flicking tongue stimulated my bud to near orgasm. I needed air so gave the submission sign of three taps to his torso. He read the signal well and instantly moved.
‘Time for a condom’ my husband said, offering DK a foil wrapped square.
‘Oh! Really? Wow!’ Even after all his efforts, he still did not assume he would be handed the Holy Grail.

I lay, arms open to welcome him. Gently inserting himself until his entire length was within me, once again he laid on top, this time our faces in close contact. Two hungry bodies finally locked together, after a year of waiting; his sweaty clammy body thrusting and transferring every ounce of energy into me with each pulse.

His choice of words, whispered feverishly into my ear as he rocked back and forth are now forgotten but the whole scenario was such a huge turn on that the memory will stay with me for eternity.