“I wanna watch you suck your boyfriend’s cock while I fuck you” he’d said during a particularly filthy romp one night. And it hasn’t left my head. He said it again shortly after and it reaffirmed my arousal at the thought of being with another man in front of, and with my partner for the first time.
It’s been something we’ve discussed at length, during hot, sweaty lust-filled moments, and also during sober, first thing in the morning over coffee discussions. It all fills me with genuine joy and excitement about the possibilities.
My partner and I have been together for eight years, in a 24/7 D/s dynamic for seven of them, and decidedly monogamous. From the very beginning, we started exploring all of our neglected edges. One’s we’d never even explored personally, certainly not with another person. It became a fetish in itself for me; the vulnerability in trying new things, pushing boundaries, learning more about myself than I’d ever dreamed of. Sharing that with someone I have such a deep spiritual connection with is something that can’t be emulated.
I got to know myself though my submission and our D/s dynamic. The real me. The one I was growing and learning who I wanted to be. Not the scared, bitter, defensive broken person I thought I was for most of my life. It not only allows, but sometimes forces me to question and challenge how I feel about myself and why.
One of the most important things you learn when exploring BDSM is how crucial communication is, and we dove in head first in that department. Admittedly, in the beginning it took a lot of cheap whiskey, chain smoking cigarettes and a bunch of cannabis, but it required less booze as time went on. And we quit smoking cigarettes in 2015.
The sexiest word I can think of is explore. We are explorers. To learn together, experience new things for the first time, to challenge our views on the world, ourselves and each other, is life changing. I fucking love to learn, and my partner was the first person I ever met who loved to learn and explore as well.
We quickly racked up quite a list of “firsts” together, both sexually and deeper, more personal levels. The more we explored, the further we wanted to venture into the fog of war, holding hands, growing braver with every step together. Both figuratively and literally, earlier this year, we moved our family from the Midwest, where I spent most of my life, to Baja, California — MEXICO!
Shortly after arriving here, I received a sex toy to review — a realistic strap-on cock. Neither of us had any idea that hunk of silicone would be a catalyst for some seriously sexy deep exploring.
Like most experiences with us, it started when things were hot and heavy and then evolved as we started wrapping our heads around how we felt about another cock in the bed, let alone a whole person attached to it. As a woman with some pretty serious trust issues with humans in general, the idea of trusting another person, a man, especially, isn’t something that comes easy. Even this abstract idea of a person makes me a little nervous, but not as much as it excites me. For so many different reasons, and on so many different levels. I’m quite sure I haven’t even scratched the surface of how therapeutic and healing it could be for me.
I’m fortunate enough to be at a point in my life where I’m growing more and more comfortable with my body and who I am as a work in progress. I dare not use the word confident since that seems like some kind of jinx in my low self-esteem rattled brain, but I’m confident in my femininity and my sensuality. I feel sexy. I think I’m sexy, or can be, anyway, when I want to be.
I also feel confident in my relationship. I feel safe for the first time in my life. I trust my partner to have my best interests at heart, both mentally and physically. I trust him not to allow me to be hurt, if it’s within his control. That’s a pretty big deal to me. I’ve never felt safe before. I’ve never allowed myself to let any walls down, and over the years, we have broken through layer upon layer of defenses, trauma and tragic untruths.
With that exploring and cutting through years of scars comes new cravings and realizations. One of those realizations was how imagining two sets of hands on my body made me feel. Not just in a sexual way — don’t get me wrong, the thought alone makes me wet — but, like, a deep in my soul way. A therapeutic way. A healing way.
Once I got past the guilt, which came with some time and a lot of being open with my partner. Even asking for reassurance when I felt guilty about how much it turned me on. Are you SURE it’s okay if my pussy gets wet every single time I think about another man touching me at the same time? What about if I think about you watching us? Is THAT okay? Asking when those feelings came up and made me feel poorly, was the only way my partner could assure me that it was indeed okay, and that he enjoyed the thoughts as well, and also needed my reassurance that his guilt was unnecessary too.
I’ve never really got to feel like the center of attention, even if I’d been given the opportunity before the past couple years or so, it probably would have made me so uncomfortable it wouldn’t have been a pleasant experience. But now, with a different perspective on my self-worth, I feel differently. And it makes me feel good to think about. I want to feel that attention, that desire. To be craved by two people. It’s a powerful thought that feels like it could help repair these neglected, embedded parts of me that at one time felt so unwanted and disposable.
And to be able to share that completely with my partner? That feels like embarking on an entirely new chapter, one that we have worked hard, and crawled so far to get to. It feels like it could be a reward for the struggle and all of the grinding.
I’ve never felt more like I was in a “choose your own adventure game” than I have with my partner, and more so here lately. Because I have little interest in casual sex with strangers, adding another person into our lives means actually meeting people, like… dating. Dating as a couple, a team, as people who aren’t desperate to get laid, but who crave a connection with another explorer. That’s incredibly exciting for me to think about. For us to meet someone we can be friends with, grow with, explore with. I fear that’s the “unicorn hunter’s” cry but it feels deeper than that. We have love to give. I have love to give, affection overflowing, with maybe not enough people in my life to give it to. It’s less about finding a body to fuck. Our sex life isn’t lacking. It isn’t about filling a void. It’s about enriching something that is already magical and making it bigger; brighter.
It’s about sharing new experiences together, new firsts, new feelings, getting to shape our story the way we want to. To do what feels good and right for us. To share our passion for exploring with someone else who is passionate about exploring.
When I started fantasizing it was this abstract form attached to this silicone cock, now, the fantasy continues until we all fall asleep together cuddled up, content, warm and happy. I look forward to whatever the future holds. No matter which direction we go with it, it’s bound to be fucking sexy.