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Archive for gang bang

May
08

The Finale: A Gangbang of a Different Ilk

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I had every intention of coming home on Tuesday evening after the gangbang and writing about it. Only, it’s now Saturday afternoon and I’m still at a loss for just the right words to describe what I experienced. Very frustrating for someone who’s crafted several books and published hundreds of articles.

What I thought would happen—and what actually occurred—are grounded in two completely different mental models. What did I think would happen? The heightened porn version of what Tank and I participated in a few weeks ago at a party. What he knows I like to watch online and fantasize about when I’m not with him.

So you ask. What did happen? Try this on.

Gently lay yourself down on a comfy surface. And close your eyes. Scan the recesses of your memory bank for the most sensual experience you’ve ever had with one other person. Remember in vivid detail what it was like to feel that person’s hands and fingers slowly and gently exploring your body. The warmth of their breath on your skin. How their mouth and tongue felt when they touched your lips and those places that drive you wild.

Then add ten more people (of the same sex) to the picture that exists in your mind’s eye. Or, for me, 11 men who were not only acting in loving, sensual, sexually pleasurable and pleasing ways towards me but with each other.

While I know you who read my blog seek the explicit—I can’t go there right now. Or more specifically, I choose not to share at the level of sexual detail that you’ll find in my previous posts.

The experience touched me at the core of my being. Especially as a woman whose life has been devoid of deep intimacy for much of the last decade. It’s what I’ve craved for years. And dreamed about finding over the last nine months. It continues the path along which Tank has slowly guided me in our private relationship.

And it unsettles me.

My second husband, with whom I spent 14 years, thrived on this depth of intimacy—when he wasn’t severely depressed or enveloped in a manic moment. As our relationship dissolved, like sugar in a glass of ice tea in early 1999, I often sobbed as I drifted off to sleep alone, my body visibly shaking. Uncontrollably. A skiing accident and the surgery that followed to repair his knee and lower leg confined us to separate sleeping quarters for months. Only once did he witness what I was going through —the night our divorce become final—when he held me closely against his body for the last time. Hours before I got in my car to drive 2000 miles across the US to be closer to people who could support me in this transition.

So I got good. Good at pushing my craving underground. Good at putting up an invisible wall between me and my lovers. Good at finding men who weren’t into being pleasured in this manner.

And now.

Now I find myself being inexplicably pulled into situations where I’m enveloped by exactly the sorts of behaviors I’ve worked so hard not to need. They’re seductive and highly intoxicating.

Only, the more I get, the more I want. And I’m scared. Scared I’ll want it more than it makes itself available to me. And I won’t know what to do about it. Scared it’ll vanish. Just like it did before.

Except, I’ve woken up to the possibilities of what can be. There’s no going back to the bubble I created to protect myself. Would you?

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May
04

Oh Me, Oh My

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Last night, as I was shutting down for the evening and contemplating tonight’s activities, Tank called me.

“Hey Babe, I just got a text from B4 about the guys.”

“And ???”

“Well, you know how we agreed on eight to ten? And how B4 has to invite more than that to get that sorta turnout?”

“Yesssss . . .”

“Uhmmm. Usually 60 percent of the guys commit to showing up. In your situation, 90 percent of them plan to attend. Sooooo, that means there’ll be 13 guys, 15 if you include me and B4. Are you OK with that?”

I couldn’t stop laughing. Ninety percent? What the hell had B4 told them about me? Looks like I’ll need to take a long nap this afternoon. I wouldn’t want to disappoint them!

Categories : Fantasies, parties, sex
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May
03

The Clock Is Ticking: 26 Hours Until …

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I ended up calling a girlfriend last Friday afternoon. She’s a real sweetheart. Gorgeous woman. Beautiful dark flowing hair, down to the middle of her back. Eyes that will captivate you in an instant.

“Hey girlfriend. How are you?”

“Great. I’m working again. How about you?”

“I’m doing good. Hey, the reason I’m calling is I need some advice. Ever done a gangbang with eight or more guys?”

“I’ve had five. But no more than that. What’ goin’ on?”

“Well, next Tuesday, I’m planning to play with at least eight men.”

“Where? Can I come watch?”

I hadn’t anticipated her request. But I really kinda liked it. She’d watched me before. And spanked me really hard—so hard my ass stayed cherry red for hours. At a cuckold party she’d set up for her husband. This past January. I went with Meiplé. Two weeks after I’d met Tank. It was my very first party. Once I get past tomorrow evening’s soiree, I promise to tell you all about THAT experience. It was truly one of those unforgettable evenings.

So I told her I’d ask Tank what he thought. He loved the idea too. Thought it might ease any anxiety I’d feel in the moment. Plus, we knew we’d have someone we could chat to about what had happened—someone who’d relish the moment as much as we would.

Tank had to get permission from B4—the host. He agreed immediately. So I texted my girlfriend.

“Good news. You can join us to watch on Tuesday evening. Call me tomorrow so we can figure out where to meet.”

“Cool. It’s where we talked about, right? What are you wearing? What should I wear?”

“Yes, that’s the location. I’m wearing the dress I wore to the meet n greet last month since I won’t be in it long. The one with the zipper down the front. Wear whatever you want.”

“OK. Who will be with us? Tank? You are using condoms?”

“Tank will walk us in. Guys will already be playing. Everyone has to use condoms. You OK with observing only?”

“So Tank isn’t going to be there? You’re not afraid of it getting out of control without him?”

“Tank will be there. I’m not concerned. He knows the guy who’s orchestrating it.”

“OK. Cool. Looking forward to watching. I told my hubby. He can’t wait for the details.”

“It’ll be great fun. I’m glad you can join us. I wish I could be a fly on the wall when you tell him afterwards!”

If Tank thought I had a slew of questions, she certainly had her share of them! Her anxiety level seemed a bit elevated. Although she’d been in the lifestyle a whole heck of a lot longer than me. Never once had I thought about the situation getting out of hand. I’d learned long ago to stay focused on the positive. The mind has this amazing power to bring to life that which we conjure up.

Oh, there’s one other thing. I decided not to tell her we’d probably know one of the guys. I stumbled onto that fact the night before while IM’ing the host of a party I attend regularly. I want to see the look on her face when she makes eye contact with him. And if he doesn’t show, I’ve not set the expectation he might be in attendance.

Who out there in cyberspace has any final thoughts for me? I need to go exercise!

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Apr
29

7 Days and Counting . . .

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At 7:30 in the evening on May 4th, along with Tank, I’ll experience my first gangbang with a group of about eight to ten bi men. About twice as many men as I usually play with in any given party situation.

The evening will be underway before we arrive. I like this set-up. It means I can be a voyeur before I become a participant—or more like the center of attention.

I haven’t given a lot of thought to the evening, other than to schedule my spray tan for today and my waxing for Monday. I still need to decide what I’ll wear for those few moments when there’ll be clothes on my body. You have suggestions? I’ll take ‘em. I’ll probably walk the lingerie sections of the outlet mall on Friday night or Saturday.

Tank says he thinks I’m anxious. He says I’m being too heady about the whole situation. Most likely because I’ve asked him a bunch of questions, like:

“From your conversations with B4, who do you think will be there?”

“From what you’ve seen in the past, what do bi guys like from a woman?”

“How do other women usually act and behave?”

“How am I getting to and from the house?”

“Will I get to spend any time with you alone afterwards?”

“Can I see you before next Tuesday?”

I don’t feel anxious. More, I’m a person who likes to be prepared for anything that might show up in her path.

I love the anticipation. The thought of having so many men touching me, caressing me, bending me, fucking me, fondling me, eating me, biting me, sucking me, cuming on me. All while Tank watches and joins in.

I’m also bummed that Tank can’t spend the rest of the night with me alone so we can build upon the experience. Unfortunately, daily life is getting in the way. Having a teenager means being home when she goes to bed and wakes up in the morning.

On second thought, maybe I should call a girlfriend. Chances are high she’s walked in my shoes before. Wonder what wisdom she has to offer around what I’m about to experience.

Stayed tuned for more musings. Who knows how I’ll be feeling next Monday!

Categories : Fantasies, sex
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Apr
14

Yes!! I Passed the Interview!

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The house is in an eclectic neighborhood. Some apartments, some nondescript single-family homes. Not exactly the sort of neighborhood where people check up on —or even care all that much about—those who live around them.

B4 answered the door in a midnight blue button-down shirt and light-colored slacks. My sense is that he’s in his mid-50s. I’ve never been good though, at assessing someone’s age.

We immediately received a tour of the house. I counted at least three bedrooms; there may have been more. I wasn’t paying all that much attention. My eyes were fixated on the gigantic family room. Even with two sets of king-size mattresses in it, there was plenty of room for an entire set of large leather furniture, with room to spare.

Beer in hand, Tank and I joined B4 at the kitchen table. Having never been interviewed for a gang bang, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  What I did know is that I didn’t fit the “mold” of the typical women that B4 sought out for these situations. I wasn’t a college girl—not even close to being in my 20s. And I definitely don’t weigh 120 pounds nor do I come close to being 5 foot 6 inches or taller in height—unless I have on my fuck me shoes.

“What’s the most men you’ve been with at once?”

“I did five last Saturday evening for a couple hours.”

“How many men would you like? I was thinking eight.”

“That sounds good to me. I like that it’s the symbol of infinity.”

“But that means I’ll need to invite at least 12. And 10 may show up.”

“I don’t see that as a problem. As long as Tank is included.”

“Yep. He’s in the count. Are you open to anal?

“As long as someone doesn’t try to stick a 10-inch cock up my ass. And they use lube.”

“We have lots of lube here. Do you do dp?”

“I haven’t yet but I’m very open to it. And I have my own lube.”

“What type of men do you want?”

“I like younger men. Guys my age and older just don’t seem to fit as well with me.”

“What about black guys?”

“Sounds great to me! I like BBC’s.”

That’s when Tank jumped in. “Actually, she likes BC’s—big cocks—white, red, brown, black, green—it don’t matter! And if we’re talking BBC’s, the B stands for brainy—she like ‘em smart.” I laughed and gave him a kiss on the cheek. My man knows me well.

The questions went on for about 45 minutes. And I had a few of my own.

“How long does the evening last?”

“We usually start around 7. It can last as long as you’d like.”

“What type of men will be here?”

“Well, they’re all bi. Are you OK with guy-on-guy behavior? Some oral and some anal?”

“Absolutely. I’d like everybody to have a good time. How does the evening usually start out?”

“Any way you’d like. Some ladies like to start playing right away. Others like to chat and get to know the guys for 30 minutes or so. Are you available the first Tuesday in May?”

“Yes. In fact, I just had a business trip cancel for that day. Does it work for you, Tank?”

“It sure does, baby.”

“Good. Let’s plan for that night.”

By the time we’d finished up our conversation, B4 had identified several men to invite. Tank knew them all. Even though Tank isn’t bi (he calls himself a “pleaser”), I knew he’d joined in the fun on several occasions. Just not recently, which made me curious. But I knew better than to inquire.

B4 shook my hand as we left. It was all very business-like.

Tank led me to my car and gave me a kiss as he opened the door and motioned me inside. “Drive safe, baby. And call me in a few minutes so I can talk you home. I want to know what you’d like to have happen in a few weeks.”

As I drove off, I couldn’t help but wonder: “What does one wear to a gang bang? Then it dawned on me. “Holy shit. How do I prepare for an evening of being fucked by eight men?” I’d felt intermittent pain for over a week when there’d only been five. That’s how I learned through a Google search that Preparation H wipes can be used as a vaginal compress. “Would Tank be picking me up and taking me there and home? Or would I be left to do this on my own because his daughter would be at his house? What would he like his role to be? Did he want to orchestrate like the other night or would he expect me to direct traffic? And, what did I REALLY want?”

Stay tuned for more . . .

Categories : Communication, Fantasies, sex
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