kapow!

Apparently I have fucked 23 different men in the past 3 years, even though I’ve been married for 5 years. It’s not me keeping count, it’s my husband - he’s the one who has organised all these encounters....I call him My Manager.

Flashback : a sunday about 3 years ago...

Eleven thirty on a sunday morning is perhaps an unusual time for a life-changing experience. I found myself in a spa bath with two naked men. One of them was of course My Manager. The other man was Chad, our regular massage therapist.
There had been a lot of sexual pressure leading up to this moment. My Manager’s endless fantasy had been to have a threesome (had wet dreams about it for years apparently), and he’d been working for months on our massage therapist as the prime and willing candidate. Every Sunday he’d relate to me in detail the suggestive comments and conversations he’d had with Chad while he was having his massage.

I have to admit the possibility excited me. It was actually nice to know that Chad fancied me and that he was sexually attracted to me. Chad is a gorgeous looking younger guy with a well cut body. Initially I probably felt he was “out of my league”, so for him to have been interested in fucking me was quite a thrill.

But it also threatened me. Could all this sexy talk actually become a reality? In my wildest dreams I never really thought it would, or that I would actually go ahead with it. Sure, sometimes I’d make sexy remarks just to turn My Manager on, without any intention of acting out any of his favourite fantasies.

I was never a person who had what you would call sexual fantasies. Sexual fantasies were a man thing. Sexual experiences, on the other hand, seemed to just happen to me, not from my instigation, but usually because of the circumstance I found myself in at the time. I still don’t ever think sexy thoughts like “oh wouldn’t it be such a turn on if we did it in the sand dunes” or “let’s pick up a guy in the evening take him down to the beach, fuck him and leave”.... it’s not me. But somehow these things just happen. Well, the truth is, My Manager orchestrates it to happen. Which is one of the things I disliked about entering the ‘lifestyle’, the world of the swinger. Swinger sex is rarely spontaneous; its planned, premeditated and prepared, so therefore I couldn’t make excuses to myself like: “oh it just happened”, or “I must have been pissed”, or some other reason to justify my ‘bad behaviour’. I was part of The Plan, and willing or unwilling participant, I had to own my own actions! That was a struggle.....

Now back to the spa action:

I had to be led (dragged?) down to the bedroom. The spa had been filled. We’d had a couple of glasses of champagne, the ‘leg opener’ as My Manager would say. I felt like a little girl. I knew what was going to happen, it was naughty but I couldn’t say no. Not now. Would I get in trouble? I was feeling kinda modern and groovy, but shy and frightened all at the same time. The champagne helps. I’ve never had a problem being sexy and having sex. I’m not embarrassed about my body either, so I had no body image problem to get over. It was the ‘catholic thing’.

To break the ice, My Manager volunteered my services for a return massage on Chad’s shoulders, while he massaged his feet and lower legs. So Chad was in a kind of sandwich between my legs and My Manager’s legs, getting rubbed top and bottom. Chad’s hands had begun to stroke the inside of my thighs, and the higher he stroked, the wider my eyes became. I was starting to feel extremely horny by now. I could vaguely see My Manager making hand signals to Chad as he reclined slowly back onto my chest. Kissing seemed like the natural thing to do then, so we did. Occasionally I’d glance furtively at My Manager, and I could see the gleam in his eyes...his fantasy was becoming a reality!

What happened next was quite a shock, as I was completely unprepared for it. Chad reached forward suddenly, placed his hands under My Manager’s bum, lifted his body above the water line, and took his very very hard cock deep into his mouth (I was to learn later that these two guys had discussed bi-curiosity as well...my god). I think My Manager was a bit shocked as well, but he certainly didn’t complain, and after a moment started to smile widely. I took the momentary break in action with me as an opportunity to sit on the side of the spa to cool down and get my breath.

Chad turned. “That looks very tasty” he said, eyeing my open legs and divine fulcrum. Hmmm, maybe champagne is a ‘leg-opener’ as I made no attempt to close them like a good girl should. He dog-paddled forward and started licking and sucking my cunt lips. This was feeling better all the time.

Now at a certain point in situations like this, and given that water is a lousy lubricant, one is compelled to dry off and get serious. Our spa / bed relationship is a very close one, so it didn’t take long to dry off (well, most parts of our bodies at least) and get back into some serious kissing and cuddling on the bed. By now I really wanted Chad. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted both of them to fuck me. And they did. The curious thing was that I did not feel concerned or self-conscious about being watched by the man who is my husband while another man fucked me. In fact it heightened the whole experience.

In the end, it was all very sexy and a lot of fun! Weird, because it felt so natural. Throughout I didn’t really know what to say or how to act. It was like we were in a soft core porno movie.

I did have an orgasm from this. Not during any of the fuck-session though. The morning after, in the early morning, I was dreaming, I can’t remember the dream, but I woke up desperately having to press my clit, pressing on my throbbing clit and having a “kapow” moment . That’s exactly what it felts like: “KAPOW”. Wow, it woke me up with such power, my clit was throbbing, I was hot. God, it was sensational. It was fantastic to know that this experience was tapping into my subconscious and getting deep into my inner self, bypassing all the programming and blockages, opening up my heart so that I could have an orgasm.

But how do I consciously bypass those blockages and allow myself to consciously reach orgasm? How do I overcome a lifetime of non-orgasms so I could feel like a real woman?

So, our quest begins.