“I want you to go with me Saturday night.” Nick had never sounded so insistent about going to the swing club. On one hand, it made me nervous, and on the other hand, his firm request turned me on.
So, I decided it was time. Funny thing was, in the following days, he wavered and changed his mind back and forth, not so sure he wanted to submit me, or maybe our relationship, to the swinging lifestyle.
I wasn’t really sure we’d be going until late Saturday afternoon. I still wonder if Nick had a secret hope that I might tell him I wasn’t ready. It was a big step for us.
What does one wear to her inaugural swing party debut? At first, I’d planned to wear a black party dress with tassels, kind of a Great Gatsby look, with platform fuck-me shoes. But, afraid of standing out too much, I decided to play it down and wear a black t-shirt dress and flat sandals.
As it turned out, I stood out anyway, because almost everyone else was dressed in hot party clothing with platform fuck-me shoes. I was later told I looked like a prude, proper.
We walked in and I clutched Nick’s hand, completely unsure of what to expect. The people behind the counter were friendly, and looked pretty “normal.” They took our names, copied our licenses and said someone would be there to do an orientation and we’d get a tour. If we still wanted to “party,” we’d go back to the desk, pay $75 and have some fun.
I was relieved after the tour. I’d been worried about cleanliness and how to have safe sex. We were first shown the semi-private boudoir, a dim, red-light room with half a dozen queen-sized beds with sheer curtains separating each.
Our guide was a heavy-set younger woman dressed in a silver sequined top and a short, black mini-skirt that barely covered her dimpled ass. She pulled back a sheer drape and said, “This is where you come if you want a little privacy. People can come in to watch, but you have the curtains to maintain a little separation.” She pointed to a shelf. “There are the clean sheets. We ask that you remove your sheets after you use the bed. And here are condoms.”
Oh, good, I thought. Condoms. Clean sheets. Safe.
I thought there might be a possibility that Nick and I might use one of the beds in the semi-private room that night. Though I wasn’t sure I wanted to “swing” that night, in fact, I was pretty sure I didn’t want to, the thought of making love with Nick while people watched turned me on.
She then took us to rooms with gradually less and less privacy, until we arrived in the last room, a mirrored room, with a long row of beds with no separation for privacy–really one big bed. And there was a bench across from it for people to come watch.
I have to admit, in every room we entered, I felt watched, and though I wanted to look, I kept my eyes cast down, afraid of catching the eye of someone and making him believe I was interested. I wasn’t.
Nick and I walked onto the dance floor. He asked if I wanted a drink, and though I said “Yes, please,” inside I was saying, “Hell yes, I need a drink.” I wanted to slug it down, feel it warm me, relax me, so I’d loosen up some.
Nick was much more comfortable on the dance floor than I was. I sat down and watched him in a line dance for a little while, enjoying the satisfied, even dreamy smile on his face. After awhile, he invited me to join him and I did.
His body felt like home, and as he held me close, I began to relax. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend we were alone. One or two songs later, I was much more relaxed, swaying my hips, pressing against his cock, even grabbing his balls a few times.
I was a bit taken by surprise by the exhibitionist in me. I found myself secretly wishing he’d pull up my skirt and expose my bare bottom.
I loved dancing with Nick, as I always do, but thought we should move on and experience something else. I asked him if he wanted to go watch a porn movie in the sitting area off the kitchen. He said “yes,” and we left the dance floor. I don’t think we were sitting on the leather couch for more than five minutes when a couple plopped down right next to us. He was tall, gray-haired, with a 5 o’clock shadow and in good shape. She was fragile looking, blonde, petite, with haunted brown eyes.
“You don’t mind if we sit here next to you, do you?” he asked.
She sat on his lap, almost like a child might sit on her dad’s lap.
I did feel a little uncomfortable. He’d invaded my personal space. But I told myself to deal with it–there was no personal space in a swingers’ club. And though I’d never been to one before, I was pretty sure this was how a “swing” began.
“We’ve been scoping you two out,” she said, smiling.
“Yeah,” he continued. “We thought you looked kind of prudish and proper.”
Feeling slightly offended (after all, I going for a sexy look) I turned to Nick and said, “Tell them I’m not prudish and proper.”
Nick grinned and shook his head. “No, she can be quite improper at times.”
However, I’m not sure they heard him. We carried on a long discussion about various things: match.com, The Burning Man, his make-shift shower that he trades for smiles, how “swinging” works and their experience with it. All the while, he was giving me signals that he was interested–scooting closer, touching my leg–while his girlfriend continued to sit on his lap. I was trying to absorb the experience, almost study it, even analyze it, as if I was in the middle of my own lab experiment.
After awhile, I left the covey of potential swingers to go to the bathroom. When I came back, Nick was sitting next to Jill, and I didn’t feel right about sitting between them, so I sat on the arm of the couch next to Nick. Nick’s hand was close to hers, and for some strange reason, I felt this urge to take Nick’s hand and place it on hers–maybe as a message that I was interested. But again, it was almost like I was a part of my own experiment–and under a microscope.
Just as I decided to resist, I felt someone touch my shoulders. It was Jordan. He began to massage my shoulders and it felt good. He said I didn’t have knots, I WAS a knot.
He began to run his hands through my hair. I looked at Nick and he had that dreamy smile on his face again. I knew he was getting turned on at the thought of me being with Jordan, even at Jordan’s assertiveness with me.
It was strange, trying to balance feeling turned on with not wanting to seem too turned on, both because I didn’t want to hurt Nick’s feelings, but also because I wasn’t absolutely sure I wanted to take a fast ride down my slippery slope.
But Jordan was assertive — the alpha of the four of us. He whispered in my ear, “So, do you want to do this?” It was time for me to answer. Yes, I did want to do it.
“Yes, but I need to talk to Nick first,” I replied. So, I leaned over to ask what he thought, making it clear that it would involve Jill, too, not just Jordan, as I thought he’d prefer.
He said it was up to me, but his body language — a wild excitement in his eyes, his smile, his broad chest — he was ready, too.
“Okay,” I said to Jordan. The voice inside that said, “What are you getting yourself into?” was only a tiny one.
In a split second, he took my hand and we headed for the semi-private boudoir. There was something in his sureness, his assertiveness, that eased my concerns and let me float along the pleasure current.
When we entered the red-light boudoir, Jordan picked me up and threw me onto one of the beds–completely unexpected, but again, I hardly had time to be nervous. Still, my concerns about safe sex thankfully barged through the pleasure party and I said, “We’re going to practice safe sex, right?” I felt just a tad bit awkward, not really know what the “right” way to bring that topic up might be, but things were moving fast and I was determined not to make the mistake I made with Roland — letting him get too far before I made it very clear that there would be no intercourse without a condom.
Fortunately, though Swingers provides condoms, Jordan also carried two condoms with him. He pulled them out of his jeans pocket and said, “Of course.”
Nick hovered protectively over me. I’m sure he was dealing with his own ambivalent feelings — very turned on, but also uncertain. I suppose that’s part of the thrill.
As soon as we’d agreed on the safe sex, Jordan picked me up again and tossed me onto another bed. I’m not sure what was wrong with the first bed. Maybe it was that there was no room for Nick and Jill in the next bed. You know, it felt very strange then, and feels just as strange now. Nick and Jill. I remember feeling a kind of sadness as Jordan kissed me, touched me, undressed me, as I heard Jill moaning next to me, heard Nick speak softly to her.
At that point, though I was turned on by Jordan’s desire, even Nick’s desire, I felt sad that I’d lost a piece of Nick, if even momentarily. On the other hand, I was surprised that I did not feel terrible pangs of jealousy. It was deeper than that. I wanted Nick to have a good time, too. I have no doubt of his love and desire for me. It was more a feeling of sadness that I lost him for awhile.
But I enjoyed Jordan physically. He was aggressive with me–held me firmly, penetrated me deeply. His kisses were insistent, but not slobbery. He placed me in positions that he desired and held me down as he licked my cunt.
I reached to open the curtains between our two beds, not because I wanted to see Nick and Jill, but because I knew Nick wanted to see Jordan fucking me. When Nick’s and my eyes met, I was focused only on him. I didn’t see Jill, and barely felt Jordan. I missed Nick.
My second favorite part of the evening came when Jordan “allowed” me to crossover to the other bed, to where Nick and I could touch. Nick leaned over to kiss me, and I felt like I’d come home to his kisses. A surge of heat flashed through me as I thought about Nick kissing me as Jordan fucked me.
I worried that Jill might feel left out, and I reached up to touch her breast. I was surprised at how soft it was. So there I was, kissing my darling, Nick, being fucked by Jordan and touching Jill’s breast–all at once. That’s been a fantasy of mine for a long time, and it had come true.
Jill did not touch me, however, and I wondered what she was thinking. Was she jealous? Did she feel left out? Did she not want to share Nick? Nick later told me she was submissive.
Jordan came, soon after whispering to me that he was going to fill me up. I have to admit, that though I’d enjoyed the act, I was ready for it to be over. I wanted to be with Nick.
Unfortunately, Jordan held me close and wanted to talk. We talked about all kinds of things, from his history with swinging, that he’d been single for three years because it had taken him a long time to find the right woman, to complaining about her kids, to giving me advice on the swinging world. I told him I was glad he and Jill had been Nick’s and my first.
Why was I glad? Because they were a nice couple and Jordan took charge. I didn’t have to worry about what I was supposed to do next, he just did it. Kind of like dancing with a strong lead.
But I was tired of talking. My mind drifted in and out of his conversation as I listened to Nick and Jill. I wondered what they were talking about, and began to feel a little pang of jealousy, because it’s the talking and cuddling afterwards that is intimate and loving. The rest is just playing–no feelings involved. But, I also somehow knew that Nick was just as anxious to get back to me. That was a neat feeling, knowing that.
Finally, about the time I’d begun to question that it was a little strange that we were all laying in the boudoir room talking, Jill and Nick peeked their heads in and Jill said, “He wants you back.”
And then, came my most favorite part of the whole night — when I returned to Nick. The minute I touched his skin, tasted his kiss, felt his arms around me, his desire heating up–that was the moment I’d waited for.
We laid there and kissed for several minutes, told each other we were happy to be back in each other’s arms, and then, he made love to me. Yes, in the middle of that red-light boudoir, with couples moaning all around us, even with people watching, he made love to me.
And that was the best part of the whole night.
We arrived at Swingers around 9:30 at night. It was difficult to find, we turned around once, then finally found it.
We went through a brief orientation, and then got a tour of the place, paid $75.00 and were in. I was nervous and unsure but seemed to relax once the orientation began. Elise seemed relaxed but later told me she was very nervous.
Elise wore a tee shirt short dress, a soft fabric, no panties or bra beneath it, flat sandals, her hair looked shorter with a soft curl. We had purchased a bottle of white wine which we gave to the bartender. Number 24. I would go back several times to refill her glass. She would tell me later that the wine helped her relax. I’d only seen her have more than a glass of wine on New Years.
The most natural place to start was the bar/dance area. So we danced together for awhile. Elise sat, later telling me she was self-conscious about dancing even though she moves well with me. I danced alone, trying to mimic the line dance that was going on. Eventually, she got up and I held her close, we swayed to the music, I felt her bottom, its softness detectable through the fabric of her dress. I was elated, proud to be with her and full of anticipation even if we didn’t do anything. We were there and we’d share an experience together.
We’d talked about what we might do and agreed that maybe it’d be better if we didn’t do anything, but watch or observe and maybe make love to each other on one of those queen- sized, veiled beds in the back, in front of others, or no one. We had put ourselves there, a place we’d identified as a possible destination in one of our first long phone conversations. So just hanging out alone together would have been just fine, being there was enough.
While dancing, we kissed several times. Elise had her naughty, tight-lipped, about-to-laugh, can’t-believe-I’m-doing-this grin on. It added to my giddiness. She kissed me back. She squeezed my balls. My Mistress. My playful Mistress who never leaves me feeling diminished but teases submission out of me with her firm fingers, playful words, and naughty smile.
I would get another lessen that night.
We held each other on the dance floor, swaying gently, and she asked if I wanted to go sit in the pornography room and watch.
We moved to an adjoining room together, sat on a leather sofa, with big screen TV showing porno to our left.
Soon an attractive couple, younger–she, blonde and petite, he, gray-haired and older, but in good shape–plopped down on the sofa. “Hello.” They introduced themselves. Jill sat on Jordan’s lap who sat in the middle of the sofa–in Elise’s personal space, up close. Elise would later tell me he caressed her leg throughout the conversation.
They asked about our experience. We asked about theirs. They were pleasant. They’d been together for three years and swinging the whole time though this was just their second time to Swingers. They talked about their history, particularly with Burning Man Flipside, a hippie retreat they had gone to for years. I had difficulty hearing them and had to lean in. I kissed Elise on the head and stroked her hair at times. She seemed engaged and at one point mentioned personal information which surprised me a little though the conversation was so pleasant it just seemed natural to reveal more. I thought they mentioned that they like to soft swing, which was a relief, though I later learned I had misheard them. They enjoyed full swing, which meant swapping partners.
We talked for a while and I didn’t really think that it was going to go anywhere. At one point Jordan left for a while. Elise left too to go to the bathroom. Jill moved closer and we talked. I wasn’t particularly comfortable, and though Jill was cute, I found myself wondering if Elise had been able to get in the bathroom okay and what she was thinking.
I was slightly self conscious of how Elise might respond to me sitting so close to Jill. I had no desire to. I worried that she might feel jealous or betrayed. I like to think of our relationship as open, but only one way–Elise plays with others, I don’t. It was odd to realize that here I was with a pretty attractive woman, maybe even 20 years younger than me and I had almost no sexual interest.
Elise came back and sat next to me on the arm of the sofa, letting Jill and me stay close. Jordan returned and started rubbing Elise’s back. Her face reddened and she grinned. I heard her talk about her knots. She looked like she was enjoying it, but I was having trouble reading her at that point. It was my first clue that Jordan wanted Elise. I was excited but also unnerved, a little surprised, realizing we might swing after all. Elise was going to be with Jordan.
I don’t recall them speaking but they stopped, and Elise asked me if I wanted to “do this,” and I asked her if she wanted to. My question was as much about whether she wanted me to go with Jill as it was about her being with Jordan. (Of course I wanted to see her with Jordan) I really wasn’t sure what “do it” meant, I had not heard that Jordan and Jill wanted to hard swap. It was an awkward moment for me with Elise.
It would have turned me on at that moment if Elise would have taken control and whispered in my ear, “Yes I want to fuck him, my boy.” That’d be my fantasy, but I’m guessing she wasn’t certain she did want to fuck him, and we had, after all, more or less agreed to just watch. If I would have been honest, I would have said, “Yes, sweetie, I want to watch you get it on with Jordan, but I don’t want to have sex with Jill.”
Whatever hesitancy we had, Jordan resolved them. It wasn’t long before he was quickly leading Elise by the hand, Jill and me trailing to keep up, to the back room where there were isolated beds behind a transparent cloth.
He quickly pulled Elise down underneath him onto one of the beds and began to kiss her. It was abrupt and almost out of place. I leaned down quickly, knelt actually, to get close to Elise’s face as she laid on her back. I kissed her and wanted to whisper, “Is this okay? but I’m not sure I did. I stood back up.
There was brief talk, Elise asked about safe sex, “I don’t want to dampen the mood but are we going to practice safe sex?” and they said, almost in unison and reassuringly, “Oh yes.”
I realized we were going to swap. I suggested the two beds near us that shared a wall and were adjoined, separated by a transparent curtain. I could be close to Elise and watch them, this was my best effort in that moment, in the face of Jordan’s aggressiveness (I really am a submissive), to get close to Elise.
Jordan led the way. He was aggressive with Elise, though she later told me she was sure he would have backed off had she asked. He wanted her. I liked that and thought Elise would like it too. She likes to be taken, the submissive in her does. I knew she was on her way down her slippery slope, she was going to fuck him right there in the bed next to me. My cuckold joy was rising up in me. It had been absent for most of the evening. Now it was with me.
I was hot, but not for Jill and she and I, it was clear would be paired off together. My lack of desire for her would be awkward.
I would have preferred she and I to sit on the edge of our bed and watch Elise and Jordan. Instead the two of us climbed up on the mattress we’d been assigned and hugged awkwardly and then kissed. I pulled away and looked at her face and smiled perfunctorily, then kissed her again. I was not hard. Could I get into this?
My attention was divided. I couldn’t help but watch Elise with Jordan. And when I couldn’t watch I listened to their movements. Every creak of the bed and rustle of the sheets I imagined signaled a growing passion between them. Was he already hard for her? Did she have her hand on his cock? He was kissing her. I had seen that and I could hear their lips smack softly at times.
Jill and I were quieter.
I tried to focus on Jill. She was small, and cute enough, thin, with a pretty smile and face. She kissed stiffly, unresponsively, rigidly poking her tongue up between her lips which she shaped into an O. I lifted her dress, put my hand over her cunt and she felt wet through her panties. Was she turned on? I massaged her cunt through them, then slipped them aside and stroked her slit and clit up and down slowly gauging her responsiveness. She twisted stiffly. I was going through the motions, no butterflies rising in me. I didn’t want to be where I was. I wasn’t connecting. I kissed her some more, trying to relax into it. I wasn’t hard. The stress and lack of interest told me I probably wouldn’t be.
Jill took all her clothes off, it seemed, almost in response to seeing Jordan naked now with Elise. Jill laid close to me on her side and we kissed again, me running my hands over her body, returning to her cunt and stroking it, running my fingers through her wet lips. I kept watching across the bed. That’s where my heart was.
It had been several minutes since Jill had taken her clothes off when it dawned on me that I should take off my pants and get naked too. I slipped off the edge of the bed and undressed, got back on the bed, and set a condom on the edge where I could find it.
Elise and I were doing a full swap. Though I could see her, she was gone, taken, caressing, being caressed by another man, kissing him deeply and being kissed. I missed her, felt alienated with Jill, and a bit empty, but my cuckold fire was burning hot. I adored Elise and her passion and desire to play. I could hear her moans, and the mattress crunch beneath the two of them.
It never occurred to me that I should just stop with Jill altogether and say, “Let’s watch them.” It would have felt like I was rejecting her. So I resigned myself to just do my best. It eased some of my tension, but not all.
Jordan was going down on Elise. I heard Elise’s familiar soft cries, saw her laying back, her face up concentrating like she does when she’s working herself up to cumming. (She told me she did cum while he licked her.)
I got between Jill’s legs and licked her, fingering her as I did. She moaned and squirmed, twisted slightly, moaned some more making me wonder if she’d cum.
I crawled back up over her, still not hard. Not hard at all. I knew she’d want me in her. I told her to grab my balls. She did but not very hard. Nothing. “Like this?” she said softly, squeezing very lightly. “Harder,” I whispered, but she tightened up very little.
I had on the cock ring and had taken some Viagra but it wasn’t doing any good. I wasn’t going to get hard, so I laid over top of her and she asked me to tell her a story.
I paused and tried to conjure something up, but heard Elise cry out. How could I tell a story and listen for Elise’s moan which is what I wanted. Eventually I told a shallow story about dominating her, having her kneel, being forced to suck my cock, forced to lick Elise.
At one time Elise was flipped over onto our bed. I leaned over and kissed her deeply while Jordan was inside her. Her face was flushed, she kissed me breathlessly, a rawness I knew well when Elise is lost in her sexual intoxication. Jordan was in her as I kissed her. I loved that. I got hot. I got erect. It was the hardest I’d be all night with Jill. I kissed Elise again before Jordan pulled her back up. I saw Elise’s arm come away from Jill and realized Elise had been touching her.
Jordan pulled Elise up and was inside her while she sat on his lap. He was strong with her body, moving her about. I remember looking down and seeing Elise’s ass crack and bottom setting down tightly over Jordan’s groin. They were kissing. Still hard I rushed to put on a condom and tried to fuck Jill. I got halfway in and thrust in and out but it wasn’t happening. I lost it.
(An aside: There was something very girlish, childish and submissive about Jill that didn’t turn me on at all. She also seemed nervous and abrupt, uncomfortable touching me, which may well have been triggered by my unease. She kept wanting to call me Mr. Packard (or some name) a distinguished man in the neighborhood where she grew up.)
My focus was on Jordan and Elise, I had an image of them together, Jordan had slipped down between her legs. I saw her open her legs to accommodate him, his thigh resting on her thigh, pinning her, pressing his cock into her no doubt, kissing her too.
It was a huge turn on. Memorable. Eventually Jordan would come inside of Elise in a condom. Elise would tell me she caressed his balls which were smooth and shaved. She really liked that. She also told me that he put a finger in her ass, something she doesn’t allow me to do anymore (or at least pushes my fingers away most all the time now) I would tease her the next day that only bulls get to play with that little hole. She’d smirk at me and teased, in a serious tone saying, “That’s right.”
Jill made one last attempt to gather my interest by rolling onto her belly, opening her legs and sticking her butt up in the air, “Come on, fuck me,” she whispered in a delicate voice. I felt awkward, smacked her butt softly a few times (which she didn’t seem to like) and quickly laid down alongside her and whispered “No,” a little more emphatically this time.
I could sense Jordan and Elise had finished and were snuggling close and talking. It was a queue I could relax, and for Jill and I to do the same.
As a foursome we had talked for a while out on the sofa, before the sex, so it made sense we would afterwards. Jill snuggled up close along my left side and whispered in my ear. I laid on my back and looked up and tried to take deep breaths. I was faking whatever we were doing. I wanted to be in Elise’s arms.
Jill told me about her past, her divorce, her struggle with health issues, mental health issues, and her family history. Her words and the story spilled out oddly and awkwardly, but mostly uncomfortably, like a massage therapist telling you the history of her estrangement from her parents. I felt some empathy and tried to offer solace, but I didn’t want to talk like that, I just stayed put to be polite.
I wanted Elise back. I wanted to look into her eyes and face and see her smile and kiss her, but I also didn’t want to interrupt her. I would occasionally hear her laugh, her delicate enthused giggle that splendidly erupts from her when she’s humored. It made me jealous but maybe she was enjoying the conversation and I wanted that too for her. I never want her to feel used by the men we play with and so there was something assuring about their connection.
Finally I said something to Jill about switching back and she leaned over and spoke to Elise and Jordan.
Eventually we all got up and dressed. I watched Jordan hug Elise from behind while she stood in front of him naked. It was a sweet moment. Elise said, “It was nice to meet you,” a bit of irony in her voice and Jordan laughed. Jill came by the end of the bed having gathered her things and gave a little wave and said something like, “I’d like to get more of his words,” referring to the story I tried to share.
They left and Elise rolled into my arms and we kissed. We were stuck on the far side of the bed, almost against the wall. Almost hidden, though it didn’t matter, she was the only woman I wanted to see and I could care less who was seeing us.
“Hi sweetie,” she said.
“Hi, darling.” I was buoyant. This was homecoming. I warmed immediately, felt the spell of alienation slip away, and the comfort and heat I feel in Elise’s kiss, the flush aura that rises over her face when we make love enveloped me. We kissed, and kissed, and with a few strokes of her hand I was erect and slipped into her. I went into her and she into me.
If those around us were fucking we were doing something different, something that hadn’t been diminished at all by what had just occurred but in fact had been heightened. We made love. Maybe one of the benefits of swinging is that you get to feel the contrast, get to experience the difference between sex that occurs with someone outside of real intimacy, that is, at best, the culmination of a fantasy, and sex deepened by an ongoing bond. I had never really been aware of that difference until that night.
I adore Elise. She fits me and I fit her. We fit together. It wasn’t long before I came inside her, holding her tight, grateful she has chosen me.
It was a delicious and memorable night. We both dressed and went to look for Jill and Jordan but we didn’t find them. On the way through the dance floor there was a woman giving a guy a blow job. I pointed them out to Elise. She glanced over and then away like it was no big deal. Her reaction made me laugh.
This was the first time I was able to see Elise with another man and I loved it.
If I had to do it differently I would’ve asked that we start with a soft swing to see if it evolved into a separate, hard swing or given what happened with Jordan being aggressive with Elise, which I liked, I would have told Jill that I really just wanted to watch Elise and Jordan, and that we could touch each other but I would really get off watching Elise.
It was a cuckolding event. Even though I had another woman to play with, I came away with that same delicious energy, though this time I got to see and hear Elise in the process. Elise didn’t seem possessive about me playing with Jill but she told me later that it was something beyond jealousy like she had lost me though not lost me to Jill.
The next day she would role play punishing me, punishing me for not telling Jill what I really wanted, which was to watch Elise and to be with Elise while she was with another guy. It’s really our agreement, our relationship is playfully opened one way, her way. I either watch or wait. It turns me on just writing that, remembering that. We’ll have to figure out how to swing with that in mind.
One post swing note: On Monday I arrived at her house in the middle of a thunderstorm. We found our way into bed and were playing. I got quite aroused but Elise was stopping me, “no we need to go downstairs and eat.” Eventually I crawled over her and was rubbing against her.
She looked lost in thought and I asked, “What are you fantasizing about?”
She chuckled and said, “I was imagining you were Jordan and you were standing on the side of the bed watching.” After a pause, I said something, and then, as if still fantasizing, she said, “He wouldn’t have asked to go inside me, he just would have.” Her voice was matter of fact but I know she knew the effect it would have.
A few minutes later, me reeling in my submissive/cuckold/ boy space, she said, “Let’s go downstairs and eat.”