Archive for Couples
I’m Back … and Here’s What Happened
Posted by: | CommentsI did as I promised in my last post. I put the bad girl to sleep and slipped into good girl mode to meet Tank’s family.
It was nothing like I’d expected based on my past experiences. Tank’s daughter gave me a big hug when she greeted me. She’s a joy to chat with—a bright, cute, energetic young woman. Very petite. I could feel her bones as I embraced her.
It didn’t surprise me that she’s very protective of her father. That came out loud and clear as the three of us chatted before dinner. And as she watched his behavior with me at the restaurant. Her concern is palpable. She wasn’t shy about expressing her views about his health and wellbeing.
All the stress I went through trying to decide what to wear and how to look wasn’t worth it in the end. There’s no false pretense with these folks. Only, I really didn’t get to know them—or them know me. The way the seating occurred when we dined is that Tank and I were at the end of the 12-person table that housed his daughter and her cousins, ranging in age from 10 to 18.
So it was only as we were leaving the place that I had a direct question asked of me by his father as we walked to our respective cars in the parking lot:
“What do you do?”
“Well, that depends on the time of the day, the day of the week, and the month of the year.”
“So what will you be doing next week?”
“I’ll be speaking in front of a thousand people. And selling books.”
“Has my son seen your books?”
“Nope. He hasn’t asked me about them.”
“He won’t. I suggest you give him a copy of your latest book and assign a couple of chapters of reading, followed by a test.”
Of all the things I could “test” Tank on, my last book wasn’t at the top of the list in my mind!
We drove back to Tank’s house. I stayed till midnight, then drove myself home, anticipating the fun we’d have Saturday night at a swing party with my friends. On Saturday morning, while still in slumber mode, I found myself scratching my legs. When I looked at them, I noticed a few red marks where my nails had been. So I decided to get up and take a closer look. That’s when I noticed the hives on my stomach and my breasts. When I turned around, I realized they were all over my back, my ass, and my upper legs.
Crap. Where did they come from? I was taking antibiotics for my sinus infection. But it had been a week already. And the hives had just shown up. Ah. I bet it was the newborn kitties. Tank’s sister’s cat had had four babies and I’d held two of them and snuggled them close to my body and my face at her home before we’d gone out to eat.
I immediately called the pharmacy. That’s when I learned it would take at least three days for them to subside—that’s if I took Benadryl every four hours. I fired off a text message to Tank.
“I have hives. From the kitties. I’m going to get drugs.”
“Maybe we should cancel tonite. You should rest. You have a big week ahead of you. Why don’t you see if we can meet your friends for drinks and dinner instead.”
Cancel? Cancel going to a party? No way! I’d been waiting for weeks for this party.
I looked at myself in the mirror again. He was right. There was no way I could bare my skin looking the way I did. Even with the lights down low, someone was sure to feel all the bumps on my skin.
So I wrote the host a note and sent our regrets. And proceeded to call my friends to see if we could alter our evening plans. Which they all agreed to do.
And then I sat down and laughed. Never in a million years have I had something like this happen upon meeting a man’s family. What a memory to behold.
Here it is, a week, later, and the vestiges of my hives are still visible on my ankles and feet. The result of wearing hosiery for four consecutive days. With my St. John knit dresses and skirts. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Wearing four inch heels and showing a little leg as a speaker goes a long way in getting high marks from a mostly male audience.
That reminds me. I need to go take some more pills :) Tank and I are meeting a couple for lunch tomorrow. And there’s a chance I might be back at his sister’s home this evening!
Stickers, Hair Clips and an Unidentified Ransom
Posted by: | Comments“You left a pair of sandals. I’ll hold them for ransom.”
As I was driving to the airport at 5 o’clock this morning, my intuition kept badgering me about something I’d left behind at Tank’s home. I’d been careful to pack separate bags and suitcases—the one for Saturday night’s party containing my little black dress with a balloon skirt that I just love and my five inch spiked sandals from my last New Orleans trip, the one with my travel clothes and shoes for today and two large roller bags for my engagement in Philadelphia.
2.25 hours of sleep, even with a 90 minute nap after dinner last night had knocked me off kilter by a mere heartbeat. I know better than to deliberately leave anything at Tank’s home. Especially after he’d shared a story about a woman he slept with who left tons of items at his home after their first night together. He countered for their second and last date by going to the drugstore and buying five toothbrushes, various types of flowery deodorant and countless other products and leaving them out in full view for her to see—and not fucking her. I gotta hand it to him. She never showed up again, which was his intent.
Tank and I began our hanging out together time on Saturday by seeing the late morning matinee of “How to Train Your Dragon.” I found it to be a delightful flick—with a great message about how a young boy’s refusal to see the world through his father’s eyes sparked an innovation that ultimately saved the town in which he lived from future strife.
Then it was on to Costco for stuff. I love stuff. Heck. I love shopping. Doesn’t matter for what. It’s the looking part that seduces me.
Followed by a paddleboat ride that Tank is surely not to let me forget. You see—I’m uncoordinated. I can fall merely by walking in flat shoes on flat ground. Getting into the boat almost had me tipping it over. And getting out? Well. I tried a few times to do it first. But I couldn’t seem to stand up and hold the dock without moving the boat on direction or the other, which meant getting thrown back into my seat. I’m very fortunate that Tank is a patient man. Notwithstanding he chides me forever about moments like these. Which only finds me laughing along with him.
Then came a Greek meal for four that’ll get Tank through Monday (maybe J) and the nap, which I only take in dire circumstances. Which meant tonight we were going to an invite-only swing party—the one I’d invited Drew to originally, only he didn’t followed up with me about it.
What intrigued me about this gathering was that it was in a locale far from my home—so I sensed we’d meet people we’d not seen before. And I was right. Except for the two people that Tank recognized from work-related activities over the years (who didn’t recognize him) and the guy I’d communicated with prior to the New Year, we didn’t know anyone else in a group of about 80.
As soon as we entered, we were given an icebreaker activity—and stickers. Kiss a person. Get a sticker. Have sex in a public area of the home, get a sticker. Have sex with multiple people you don’t know, get lots of stickers—one from each of them. LOL
Of course, on the entry that said: Bare a breast, your ass, your pussy or your cock, Tank decided to pull up his shirt when a GILF (grandmother I’d love to fuck) did the same. The irony of the situation did not evade me. He also took quickly to the item that encouraged women to let others fondle their breasts. In fact, I think he gave up a majority of his stickers to the cause.
That’s my man!
I was more reserved. Observant. Atypical for me. But tonight it just was.
I didn’t feel the need to fuck or suck anyone but Tank. We’d started the afternoon with a bang. There’d been no men in my stream of consciousness worth fucking since our last soiree (see “Oh, What a Night”). That was a full two weeks earlier. Oh, what this guy can do with his tongue and lips on my clit and his fingers in my pussy. I’m left breathless here in Philly just thinking about it.
The game caused us to meet more people than we usually do. That’s when I discovered a lot of newbie’s were in our presence.
The phrase to remember came from a woman who lived in Toronto and had come to town with her hubby for a conference. Tank and I saw her attaching large hair clips to the V-neck on her shirt. So he inquired.
“What are those for?”
“A girl never knows when she might need to pull hair back.”
That made me wonder which hair and whose hair that might be.
I did meet a fellow who’s acted in a few porn flicks. A gorgeous hunk of a guy. What fascinated me is he’s very picky about who he plays with and how much he knows about them. A year or two ago, his doctor put the fear of God in him when she told him he could get STD’s through oral contact. Up until the time we left at 1:15 in the morning, he hadn’t played with anyone.
But we had fun. The Toronto couple joined us on the same bed for a while. Tank finger fucked me in the hot tub while a husband caressed me. I got to stroke his lovely cock while he was close by. And we joined the Toronto couple in another room as her husband slowly—and I mean slowly fucked her while she lay on her back and sucked down the entire dick of the guy I met over the holidays. That reminds me: I need to ask him how it felt.
You curious about the ransom? Me too. Tank hasn’t responded yet to my request. Lord only knows what he might have up his sleeve.
Adding to the Conversation: Your First Threesome by Dan and Jennifer
Posted by: | Comments
As a swinger, the title of the video, “Your First Threesome: Who Should It Be With?,” created by Dan and Jennifer, caught my eye when it was mentioned on Twitter. I couldn’t wait to see it. And now, I can’t wait to comment on it.
The video was created based on a question submitted by a woman. Something to the effect of: My boyfriend and I decided to participate in a threesome. Who should it be? Should it be a close friend who’s comfortable with the idea or should it be a stranger, but a clean stranger of course?
I agree with one statement: It’s a bad idea to have a threesome with a complete stranger. That’s where my agreement ends. And my concern begins. A concern that caused me to tell Tank about what I heard.
“They said it’s probably not a good idea to have a threesome with a close friend who’s comfortable with the idea. They made it sound so black-and-white.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Wasn’t your first threesome with two girlfriends who knew each other?
“Yes. And when I was married, my wife and I had a threesome with a close friend of hers that I dated in the past.”
“My point exactly. I’m not seeing the problem in having a first threesome with a person you know and trust. Someone who’s comfortable with the idea.”
“What am I missing here?’
“Well. There’s one question everyone needs to answer. And that’s ‘why.’ Once you agree on the ‘why’ with your partner——the rest doesn’t matter.” The answers to who what, when where, and how easily fall into place.”
“You’re right. It does.”
My answer to the option of inviting a friend to join in would have been “it depends.” It depends on why you want the threesome in the first place. And sometimes, inviting a trusted friend who has similar motivations to you is the perfect choice.
Unfortunately, Dan and Jennifer also miss this critical conversation in their follow-up video called “5 Tips to Make Your First Threesome More Successful.”
They go on to say that a first threesome should be held with a third person who is experienced—what they call sexually social. While I agree that experience is very helpful, based on what I’ve seen and experienced, it really helps to make the situation lighthearted and enjoyable. This is NOT a test of sexual prowess or skill. Because, at the core, swinging isn’t about the sex—it’s about enhancing the relationship a couple has by adding a variety of amazing intimate experiences to it.
I’m also not fond of their online site recommendations to find a third person for a threesome. SDC tends to be for the “beautiful” people—at least in my community—which has more than a million of people living in it. AFF (Adult Friend Finder) members don’t all necessarily understand or embrace the mindset of swinging (as compared to wife swapping behavior). And Kasidie includes other sorts of fetishes like BDSM, kink, and the like—which may be too much for first-timers.
The reason I prefer Swing Lifestyle is that people of all looks, sizes, and ethnicities are members. (Disclosure: I do not sell memberships on behalf of the organization.) Many are professionals in their communities. People you interface with every single day. And most understand the mindset and rules behind swinging. One of which Dan and Jennifer also neglected to mention in their 5 Tips video: No means no. Period. End of story.
I’ll stop here. If you have the chance to watch one or both of the videos, please feel free to add to the conversation. I’d love to hear your comments.
The Little Engine That Couldn’t
Posted by: | CommentsShe left her wristwatch at my house. I waited a couple days to see if she’d contact me. Not about it per se. But to thank me for hosting her and her husband for dinner and play. Only, she never sent a note. Which saddened me. I’m a stickler for common courtesies.
So, I wrote her and said I had it. It took two weeks of e-mails back-and-forth for us to find a day and time to meet. She suggested doing so at a grocery store in the middle of the day. 12 noon to be exact. A grocery store? I was speechless. What was I missing?
Perhaps I should go back to the beginning.
A few weeks ago, Tank and I went to a swinger’s meet-and-greet a mile from my home at a locally-owned restaurant. I’ll bet at least 150 people were there—identifiable by the multi-colored beads that they’d been given when they checked in. Dancing outdoors under the stars. Eyeing each other as though they were at a high school dance.
I’m sooooo into Tank that I’ve little desire to flirt when he’s around. Plus, when left to my own devices, I tend to be a shy person. Midway through the evening he left me on my own for a while to get us some drinks. But first, he’d given me an assignment.
“Baby, I want you to approach a guy. Any guy. And flirt with him. I’ll find you.”
The first man I approached barely spoke three words to me. That corked me. He’d just demonstrated while I’ll have work forever, teaching people how to schmooze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a married man laughing at what he’d witnessed. Not being one to miss an opportunity I approached him.
“I don’t think he’s all that interested in me. Or anyone else who’s here for that matter.”
“Well, then, his loss is my gain. Why don’t you have a seat and chat with me. My wife is off somewhere. I’m sure she’ll return soon.”
And she did. Followed soon by Tank. Both of them were bearing drinks. The four of us hit it off immediately. And much to our surprise, when Tank and I returned to my house and viewed their profile, we realized they were seeking a couple exactly like us.
“Randi, I’d really love for us to be with a couple.”
“Yeah, I know. I’m just more into groups—you know, a few of my girlfriends and lots of black men with large cocks.”
“I know, babe. But I think you’ll really like the intimacy of being with one couple even though they’re new to the lifestyle.” Whaddha think?”
Trusting Tank implicitly, I invited them to dinner at my home two weeks later. They quickly accepted. But, I must admit, I harbored a bit of a concern about the wife. She seemed more reserved that her husband. While she didn’t flinch when her husband kissed me with his tongue at the meet-and-greet, she hadn’t responded outwardly to Tank’s warmth, which is infectious.
I spent several hours the two days before they arrived getting ready for the evening. Arranged to get my full Brazilian wax done early. I love being soft and clean. Went to three grocery stores for fresh flowers and the perfect ingredients for our meal. Made sure the house was clean. Made dinner from scratch with several chocolate dessert selections. And selected what I considered to be just the perfect music.
The dinner conversation was delightful. That’s when we learned that the wife had grown up a very good girl, the perfect daughter, just like me. No dates in high school. No real sexual adventures till she’d met her husband.
We had a blast playing Twister. My idea. I’d been trying to figure out a way to get us all into contorted physical positions so we could have a few laughs. And sure enough, leave it to Tank to cause me to tumble in a fashion that put my ass with its pretty little dark blue and magenta flowered thong in the air and my black skirt around my breasts.
The agreement was that the losers would shed clothing. But instead, I saw the wife take off her top and her husband his shirt. “Hmmm. Maybe I’d figured wrong about her.”
After a second round, of which we lost again (you’d think we’d be winning given that Tank is a rock climber and can easily contort himself into multiple positions), the wife took off her skirt and her husband his pants.
And, as only Tank can do, he gently asked a few questions of the wife.
“What do you like?”
She looked away from him and her husband—and didn’t respond.
“You must like something that you husband does to you.”
Her husband piped up, “Can I respond for her?”
“Actually, I’d like to hear from your wife. In her words.”
(Whispering) “Uhmmm. I don’t know.”
“Well, what does her husband like? You’ve been married for 16 years and have a couple kids so I’m thinkin’ you know him well.”
(Laughing softly) “Yeah …”
I couldn’t contain myself. I spoke up. “Can I tell them what I think you like with me?
“Sure.”
“You like anything I do that allows me to look in your eyes at the same time I doin’ I to ya.”
The husband looked at me. “And how long have you two known each other?”
“Three months. But we talk about sex all the time.”
Her husband came over an gave me a wet kiss. “Any chance we could go to the sofa?”
“How about we go upstairs, to my room?”
I led the pack. Shedding my top and skirt along the way. With the wife behind me. I know how much men love to look at women’s asses.
Tank opened the sliding door to my balcony and led me outdoors. “Let’s give them a moment to play with each other and get comfortable.” A few minutes later, we walked back in.
The husband immediately shifted his attention from his wife to me. He sat on the bed, with me in front of him, and undid my bra. He fondled and kissed my breasts, taking each in his mouth. And then put his right hand behind my neck and pulled me down for a kiss. I started massaging his cock and got on my knees to take off his jockey shorts to get a better look at his uncircumsized cock. And positioned it inside my mouth.
By this time, Tank was kissing the wife and was caressing her body, His hands are amazing. They can soften me in a moment. But she seemed a little stiff.
After ten minutes of quietness in the room, I made eye contact with Tank. He immediately came over, put me doggy style on the bed, and proceeded to fuck me from behind. I squealed. And yelped. Loudly. Enough to alert anyone who was listening to my enjoyment.
Then Tank stopped. And turned me back over to the husband. As he went back to the wife.
For the next hour, I was miserable. The husband tried to give me oral. But it was clear he didn’t know where my clit was located or that it was something he needed to stimulate. I whispered lessons to him.
“Stimulate my clit. Here’s where it’s located. You can suck it, pull on it, tease it, lick it. Want me to show you how I masturbate?”
While he seemed eager to learn, his sexual prowess was at a first grade level, at best. I was mortified, I hadn’t signed up for a shitty evening. He was behaving like the little engine that couldn’t.
It was easy to get him off orally. And to sound like I was enjoying myself. For many of my adult years, I’d learned to fake enjoyment. But no sounds out of the wife. And I’d noticed that every time Tank got close to making her come orally, her body froze. Like she didn’t want to come. Or, wasn’t all that familiar with the sensation.
All through this experience, her husband kept baiting me.
“Touch my wife. She likes it.”
“No. she hasn’t asked me to. Nor has she reached out to me.”
“But she won’t do that. I know she likes it though, Kiss her, OK?”
“NO. She has to appear receptive. And she doesn’t right now. She’s in charge, not you.
“Oh, come on. Just for me. Won’t you do it?”
“I will not. She needs to want it. And she doesn’t seem to right now.” By this time, Tank had heard me. I’d propped myself up on my left elbow.
“You look so content, baby.”
I smiled. Content? CONTENT? I was bored out of my mind!! All I could think of was “get me outta here. NOW!”
After what seemed like forever, things came to a close. The husband and wife got dressed and Tank escorted them to their car. I finished cleaning up from dinner. When he walked back in, her gave me a long hug.
“Babe, how ya doin’? You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”
“You really want to know?”
“Yes. I do.”
“It was horrible. Awful. The guy didn’t even know where my clit was or how to stimulate it. You’d think he’d never had sex before. Geez. What do you think their sex life is like?”
“Good question. The wife wasn’t all that responsive either. Every time I’d get her close to cumming, she’d push me away. I’m not sure what’s going on with them. But it’s like I promised you, baby. If you didn’t get fucked well, I’m here for you. What do you need?”
And that’s when I saw the watch.
Tank and I had one helluva fuck session that night. One for the memory books. It was hard and long—and delicious.
The wife was at the checkout counter when I arrived at noon. I asked, “Do you have a few minutes to chat and catch up?” She acknowledged that she did.
She was all talk when it came to describing the prior weekend’s out-of-town activities with her husband, children, and her husband’s niece. They’d attended her son’s soccer tournament and toured a museum. Drank a lot of booze. I learned that even though they were new to the lifestyle that her husband wanted them to play with others every Friday and Saturday evening. And that she wasn’t sure she had the energy to do so. Even though she was starting to feel a sense of addiction to the sex they were having with strangers.
I’d looked at their online profile before driving over that day. No one had “certified” their play with them so I suspected the experiences weren’t all that noteworthy to others.
I decided to relay to her in a comical way my unpleasant swing experiences with Maestro, in the hopes of letting her know that she was in charge, not her husband. (see About Last Night). She was quiet. It was hard to read her reactions through her dark sunglasses. Right before we parted ways, she softly said, “I think I have a lot more learning to do.” I chuckled inside, thinking to myself, “Honey, you and your hubby have a lot of learning AND talking to do. I hope to God you aren’t put in an uncomfortable situation any time soon.” But, having worked as a therapist in a former life, I’m very clear that I don’t own her challenges.
Tank and I are bound to see them again at another meet-in-greet that’ll take place in three weeks. Frankly, I’m not looking forward to it. Good thing my parents taught me how to be gracious and to put on my game face when honesty isn’t called for.
And, in case you’re wondering, I still trust Tank implicitly. I’ve no doubt we’ll find a couple or two who are just right for us.
Welcome to Randi Buckmen's adventures in intimacy—beyond the world of sex. Hear how I’m embracing the possibilities of what can be while remaining a “good girl” in the public’s eye. How did I go from being celibate for three years—and wearing flannel pj's to bed with socks when I was married—to where I am today?
