{August 30, 2011}   The Joy of Threesomes

Two female, one male, oral threesome sex posit...

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Dexter talks about the ups and downs and complications of every man’s fantasy:  a threesome with two women.

I can’t believe this is happening.
I have two sexy women sucking on my dick. This is the kind of thing most men fantasize about but right now this is my reality.
I previously had a threesome a while back in my late teens, nineteen, I think to be exact, with two little cuties; one brunette, the other blonde.
Amanda was the brunette; we had slept with each other a few times in the past so it wasn’t like she had anything I hadn’t seen.
She was very much into me but she was aware that I wasn’t the type to be settling down with, as I was accustomed to having more than just one woman in my life. If it were up to her she would have had me to herself but she was more than willing to share me rather than not have me at all.
Emma was the blonde. I’ve always had a preference for dark haired women but wouldn’t turn down a cute blonde if she came my way ,let’s just say I wouldn’t chase them.
Was Emma really attracted to me? To be honest I’m not sure. I think she was more attracted to my street credibility rather than my looks.
Around my area I was known as a ‘Lover man/Gangster’. The first part I can understand as I was fortunate enough to have had plenty girls in my time, especially around this area but as for the gangster tag I had attained?  I’m not sure how that came about. I wasn’t someone to be taken lightly by anyone thinking to oppose me but I was hardly a gun-toting gangster. But who am I to dispute the title as the reputation I had struck fear into those I didn’t like and warned off potential future enemies.
As for that encounter with Amanda and Emma, let’s just say the idea, vision, notion, whatever you want to call it, was better than the real thing.
I had never been so excited and nervous at the same time. I had had plenty of girls but never two at the same time before.
Despite my previous confidence in most situations, I was full of anxiety. Would I be able to satisfy two girls?
Well, time to find out!
We were in Amanda’s bedroom when it all began.

 Now before I go any further, I have to say that I truly believe that in order to have a successful threesome, the two women involved should be bi-sexual or at least bi-curious. I now know this but unfortunately didn’t know it at the time. Hindsight is a useless thing isn’t it?

Lets just say it was hardly a threesome, more like “Let’s run a train* on Dexter” as both girls were apprehensive to interact with each other sexually. I had seen them kiss each other a few days previously; that was how they had got me to agree to this in the first place.
It started with Amanda sitting on my face and Emma giving me head. Damn, that was fun! I had only just discovered the joys of eating pussy. As a young black male of Jamaican heritage, you’re taught from an early age that eating pussy is something that real men don’t do, so I had put it off for ages. Man, do I regret that!
Anyway it was all going well at this stage, time for the penetration. I strapped on a condom then pounded Amanda from behind. Every now and then I’d take a look at Emma, I could she her eyes beaming full of anticipation. It was clear that she wanted her turn sooner rather than later and I was more than willing to give it to her.
After giving Amanda a nice pounding, it was time for Emma. I strapped on another condom, kissed her then laid her on her back. As I entered her, she let out a slight yelp. I’m not sure if she had had a dick as big as mine up till that point. I threw her legs over my shoulders and went to work. I love to penetrate deep but I could see that she was having a hard time taking my size so I resorted to shallow strokes. She loved that.
As she grew in confidence and became more comfortable, I could feel her pussy loosen up and that’s when I went for the kill. Here’s my chance to get maximum pleasure and do what I do best: penetrate deep.
She was being pounded and loving it too but at the same time I could feel some kind of tension. I looked at Amanda and her facial expression wasn’t excitement like Emma had exhibited watching us, it was jealously!
She tried to hide it with a nervous smile but I could see straight through it.

Do I stop out of consideration or continue? I’m so close to climax and Emma is enjoying herself, why should I stop? We don’t have any emotional attachments… Fuck it! I’m close to cumming and I don’t want this to end any time soon.

As I thrust I could see the bliss on Emma’s face, she was now begging me to cum so I obliged. Damn, that felt good! Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. I was just getting warmed up. Round two was just around the corner.
 I suggested that the two girls do a little something while I recovered but only if they were up for it. I thought Amanda might have said no but hoped that the jealousy that I had detected earlier had passed.
Both girls shrugged their shoulders as if to imply yes, then leaned forward to kiss each other. This was the kind of thing I had only seen in porn videos. I had always wondered what it would be like to see it for real. Now it was really happening right before my eyes.  
They kissed just like they had done in the park a few days earlier, then Emma began to kiss Amanda’s neck then slowly make her way down to her breasts.
The look on Amanda’s face wasn’t bliss, maybe she was just nervous?  I wish! That wasn’t bliss. That look was pure jealously and resentment.
It was clear from that point that she had regretted ever putting the idea forward, but she couldn’t blame either me or Emma as it was a situation of her own making.
Emma stopped kissing as she could sense Amanda’s unease. Now that was what I call an uncomfortable silence. What happens next?
By this time my dick had recovered. I thought maybe I should start round two but quickly realised that would only make matters worse so I said something real lame like,
 “Maybe we should get dressed before Amanda’s mum comes home?”
fully knowing that she wasn’t going to return for sometime. I had to say something to ease the tension in that room.
At that point in my life I used to carry a pager. It went off. Thank God, I thought. It was my best friend. The message wasn’t at all urgent but I pretended that it was so I could make a quick exit.
As I walked down the road, I thought back to the encounter. I tried to remember just the good parts but somehow the bad out-weighed the good.
Seems that kiss was a smoke-screen, as it was clear that these two girls weren’t at all bisexual.  Maybe I was  being harsh, maybe they were bi-curious but just uncomfortable to be doing it with each other as they were very good friends. I have to admit that I’d feel funny being stark naked in front of my best friend.
We were only nineteen years of age and this was the first experience of a threesome for all of us. Maybe we could try again? No such luck, as the experience seemed to put a dampener on Amanda and Emma’s friendship for good.
That was never my intention and I’m sure it wasn’t Amanda’s either. I guess being at that age they weren’t mature enough to realise that it was nothing more than what it was: just sex.  A single sexual encounter shouldn’t come between friends especially if all involved were up for it.

Back to the present, this gal Stacey took ages to reach Suzy’s apartment. In all honesty I didn’t think she was going to show up.
It must have been after midnight and she still was on the other side of the river.
It was damn near one am before she actually reached our neck of the woods. Have to say I had some serious butterflies fluttering around in my stomach at this point.
Now almost twenty seven, it had been a while since my last piece of three way action.
How was this going to pan out? Not in the way I’d imagined.
As Stacey parked her car outside, Suzy stepped outside to greet her. This was finally going to happen, no time for bullshit now.
As she stepped through the door I have to admit she wasn’t what I’d expected. Maybe it’s because she hadn’t really made an effort with her appearance.
Didn’t really matter as I knew Suzy would have her naked sooner rather than later.
Stacey was a caramel skin black girl with a size sixteen figure, very cute facial features.
Big breasts with a classic big ass, just the way we both like them, lets just say she was a diamond in the rough.
Suzy went off to the kitchen to fetch some tea. Stacey and I engaged in some small talk.
By this time all initial nerves had totally disappeared. I was beginning to enjoy this encounter This time around; I was dealing with two grown women and not two insecure teenagers.
Suzy came back with the tea and we all chatted for a bit. It wasn’t long before Suzy’s hands began to wander all over our ‘victim’s’ body.
Stacey wasn’t shy at all and returned the favour with vigour to say the least. Damn, she was aggressive!
I know that Suzy likes to be the aggressor when it comes to women but Stacey had other plans it seemed.
At this point I could feel my dick swelling up, to the ladies surprise as well as my own. I stripped naked and made my way over to the bed where they were playing.
Not sure what came over me, I was as horny as fuck!
Suzy had made Stacey aware that I could be a slow starter as I was often shy in these situations. They both couldn’t believe I was the first person to get stark naked but were clearly delighted.
They were very happy to see my manhood in its full glory. I had some very naughty things in mind and this was the time to act them out.
To begin with it was Suzy and I going down on Stacey. She enjoyed that.
It was pretty clear that although she enjoyed oral she was more of a penetration gal,  that was when things would get interesting.
At this point in time I had yet to purchase Suzy’s strap on that she now loves so much! I wasn’t totally sure if Suzy was cool with me fucking another woman.
She had told me earlier she was cool with that but sometimes people say things they don’t mean.
I couldn’t help but think that way, especially after my other encounter with the two teenagers so many years ago.
I had a lot more to lose if this fucked up. Amanda was merely a fuck buddy for want of a better word; Suzy on the other hand was my partner who I had fallen for. I’d be damned if a moment of horny madness was going to fuck up the best relationship I’d ever had.
At this point Stacey had begun to interact with me a lot more. She was bi -sexual after all.
She wanted dick bad! My dick was rock hard.
Before I knew it both women were sucking on my dick. This was unreal!
Even though we had planned this for the past week or so, it seemed so surreal.
To have two sexually aggressive women not fighting but sharing my dick was absolute bliss. It didn’t get much better than this.
Despite the amazing visual, I have to say that Stacey’s dick sucking was quite rough. I’m not a fan of teeth grating.
How do you tell someone you’ve just met that their skills are not up to par?
I tried to concentrate on the incredible visual and not the actual feeling. Suzy’s skills seriously compensated for the inept attempt made by Stacey.
Stacey was on all fours. Suzy went behind her and went to work with her hands.
At this point I knew that Stacey would want to be fucked. What would happen when that time came around? I didn’t need to worry. I wasn’t aware that Suzy had four fingers inside her. Stacey was blissful.
With almost a whole hand inside her and a dick in her mouth she made muffled groaning sounds.
I was getting turned on by the look on Stacey’s face but what happened next was something you couldn’t make up.
As Suzy pulled her hand out of Stacey I saw red, her hand was covered in blood.
Not just a little blood, lots of it. I was stunned.
It was hard to believe that this much blood could come out of her with no pain involved. She appeared to be in total bliss and her period wasn’t supposed to be due for quite some time, that’s why we had planned that particular date.
Suzy looked concerned. Stacey must have seen the look on my face because she suddenly turned around. Suzy had already wiped the blood off on a towel before Stacey could see the full extent of the situation.
As Suzy told her, I thought she’d be upset, but to my surprise she seemed embarrassed. She looked mortified.
She kept apologising, for what I’m not sure. At this point we all knew that the prospect of her getting some dick had gone right out of the window.
We all went to the bathroom so she could clean up. As she bathed she seemed to be amazed by the way Suzy and I communicated so openly. She kept telling us how special we were. We should have seen the signs by this point.
She dried herself with a towel and got dressed. We assumed that she’d have another cup of tea before she hit the road.
That wasn’t to be the case. It was around half past three in the morning at this point.
As soon as she had finished her tea she made a move on Suzy again. We were amazed by her gusto and appetite for sex. We seriously thought we’d found a gem.
She took her clothes off and went at it. I quickly joined in.
Lots of sucking and licking was going on. As she was aware that she couldn’t have any dick she was willing to sit back and watch the two of us fuck.
To be honest, she insisted we fuck. She wanted to witness first hand what she would be getting next time we linked up. She loved watching the smooth wave motion of my arse. She was licking her lips with anticipation at our next meet. As far as she was concerned she’d be getting hard cock as well as a strap on next time around.
I pulled out and came on Suzy’s stomach. Boy did Stacey like that! She began to rub my spunk into Suzy’s stomach like it was lotion. Damn, we had got a freak on our hands here!
Time was moving on swiftly, I looked at my phone display. It was damn near half five in the morning and I had work that same day. .
At this point she had got dressed again, we assumed she’d be on her way in the next twenty minutes, surely? Wrong again! This girl was like the Duracell bunny!
She got undressed again and went to work on Suzy.  I didn’t even attempt to get involved this time around. I was too tired.
Believe it or not, she didn’t leave till after seven in the morning. We should have kicked her out but I guess we didn’t want her to think we were lightweight or being ungracious hosts.
Wasn’t long before Suzy and I fell asleep, but to our surprise this girl gave us a call about an hour later to tell us what a great time she had had.
Bloody hell! Surely she could have waited until later?

The week that followed was an eye-opener. She bombarded us with text messages and phone calls. Initially I didn’t see a problem with it. As far as I was concerned we had found a regular freak that would come running anytime we called her.
You ask any couple on scene and they will tell you that that’s what they are looking for: a regular single bi female playmate. I’d say ninety five percent will never find that on scene, they can only dream about it.
We had found a real Unicorn and I didn’t want to scare her off, so I humoured her phone calls.
Suzy became irritated. She wasn’t impressed with another woman ringing her man’s mobile phone as frequently as Stacey did.  At first I couldn’t see her point. She was no threat to our relationship at all as far I as was concerned. She was nothing more than a fuck buddy, what was the big deal? As days went by and the phone calls became more frequent, reality hit me.
 She had more than admiration for the relationship Suzy and I shared, she wanted to be a part of it.
She was well aware she couldn’t have a one on one relationship with either one of us so she thought she’d plonk herself squarely in the middle. I love women, but not that much! I’d be damned if this woman was going to demand the same emotional attention and commitment from me that I provided for Suzy. That wasn’t part of the deal. If she needed a boyfriend she’d have to go elsewhere. We were prepared to give her good sex and conversation but that was it. We didn’t have anything more to offer her, or any other single bi gal that came our way.
She asked to meet us on Christmas Eve; my answer was a blunt NO! She got the message at that point.

She didn’t call back for ages. Shame really, as we did like her, but her emotional demands were far too excessive for the likes of us.
She called me quite sometime later, must have been a good five months later. She was well aware that she had to cool it with the phone calls.
We didn’t talk sex at all. I wouldn’t allow the conversation to go that route. By then, Suzy and I had made up our minds that we wouldn’t be meeting her again.
We spoke about life in general before I cut the conversation off completely. No more than two minutes after I had terminated our chat, she sent a text message:
 Damn you’re sexy. Whenever the two of you want round two just call and I’ll come running!
If only she knew we’d never call.

* ‘run a train’ = gang bang, many people taking turns in having sex with one person.

Masturbation was depicted in 19th century Shun...

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The downside of Squirting

Another night, another meet.
Not that we had had that many with couples but this one should be successful for sure.
This meet seemed unlike the rest; this couple was as laid back and cool as they came, not at all pushy ,unlike most.
This couple’s boundaries were pretty much identical to ours. By this time we had changed our preference to soft swing/swap (for those who don’t know that term, this pretty much means that anything goes except penetration with the other couple in question).
This couple was also soft swing and very experienced, the type of people that wouldn’t dream of full swap so we didn’t have to worry about boundaries being pushed with them.
Their names were Andy and Dana. We had met them at swinging club that we attended on the first Tuesday of every month.
To be honest, they had made a futile pass at us before, but this time was different. They had noticed that we weren’t playing but just sitting back chuckling with each other.
They were standing by the bar checking us out then made their move; this time they were much more sure of themselves and were brimming with confidence. They’d be damned if they’d allow us to escape a second time.
Their straightforward approach won us over, they were polite and charming, the type of people you couldn’t help but like.

As we sat there chatting away, Suzy and Dana began to flirt. Suzy and I decided to invite them into the play area for a little innocent fun. This was most unlike us to do so, but there was something about this couple that made us feel at ease.
As we entered the play room we scanned the cramped area looking for an empty sofa to occupy, we eventually found one at the back of the confined space.
We began to play, the usual touchy feely thing, fondling and sucking on breasts. Dana had a wonderful pair of big tits, Suzy just loved them.
Quite a few people in the room wanted in on our action. One crafty dude kept sneaking a wandering hand in the mix.
Much to my surprise Andy dealt with this guy in much the same manner that I would have…harshly!
I didn’t expect that as Andy came across as a passive type of guy, but obviously not when you fuck with his woman.
Dana was unable to do away with her trousers due to the fact it was that time of the month, hence the black trousers. I doubt too may women wear white trousers when they’re on their period.
Unlike previous times, Suzy didn’t appear to be acting or pleasing, she genuinely seemed to be enjoying the moment rather than putting on a show for those who were expecting a spectacle.
This put me at great ease. This is all I had wanted really, for my woman not feel that she had to compromise.
Dana and Andy lifted up Suzy’s skirt, pulled her knickers aside and went to work with fingers and tongues.
Suzy was ecstatic; I was content with sucking on Dana’s big breasts. I’m usually not a breast man but they were nice and deserved attention.
It wasn’t long before Suzy began to wet the sofa. Dana & Andy were amazed and totally blown away with the results of their oral skills; two tongues on Suzy’s pussy equalled mess.
The more Suzy squirted the more they tucked in. They were totally infatuated with Suzy at this point; the only problem was they had left it a bit late to make their move on us as time was ticking.
Our playtime was limited. It wasn’t long before the DJ made it clear that closure on the night’s activities was nearing.

As Dana pulled down Suzy’s skirt Andy quickly suggested that we meet in at their place sometime in the near future. We thought this was a great idea so we quickly exchanged contact details.
We exchanged pleasantries and went our separate ways with a future meet in mind, it seemed both couples had found the perfect match.
As we made our way home in a cab we received a text message from Andy & Dana, the message read:

 “We just had crazy wild sex on an abandoned market stall, damn you two make us horny!”

That left a smile on our faces.
This night might end up being the last time we attended that club but at least we didn’t leave totally empty handed.

Back to tonight.  For the past two weeks we had been planning to meet Andy and Dana at their place in central London.
We had received many text messages from this couple asking if we had any special requests, our reply was simple: extra towels!
Suzy was always self-conscious of her squirting. Even though people were fascinated by it, the aftermath was no joke. In fact she had written about it on a site, where she dealt with the not so pretty side of squirting:

 I’ve been a squirter (more accurately, a gusher) for some years now. It first started spontaneously during very vanilla sex. It didn’t feel great, I was worried that I had just peed on orgasm and was on the verge of going to the GP to check myself for incontinence. 
Since then, I’ve squirted more and more, and now it’s become at times an inconvenience, as the bed is always absolutely soaked. We’ve tried towels on top of towels and plastic sheeting, but then it’s like a paddling pool. It’s not fun to splash in your bed. Don’t get me wrong, it can feel wonderful and it does make excellent lube and its great to slither around body to body once you are both covered in it, but I do think that female ejaculation is very overrated and over-hyped. It doesn’t help those women who aren’t squirters to feel good about themselves. Sisters, please   don’t feel inadequate if you don’t do it, trust me its no biggie. The downsides to squirting have to be said just to keep a balance.

1) Don’t let them fool you that it’s odourless… it smells a day later.

2) Not good if your partner shaves down there to be a squirter, it brings him out in a horrible rash!

3) Spontaneous sex outdoors, in cinemas, in clubs, forget it! You leave telltale puddles wherever you go and can end up with wet jeans… and so can he.

4) Squirting yourself /or him in the face is an instant passion killer, it totally ruins the moment, but you both end up in a fit of giggles

5) Oral sex(receiving) can end up being a no-no, not unless your partner can breathe through his/her ears and /or is prepared to swallow and choke and splutter and burp. Hmmm, not my man. Can’t say I can blame him either. As a bi woman I’d hesitate to go down on a squirter too. 

6) I’ve said it before but … WET BED. There’s nothing more annoying than having an earth shattering shared orgasm and not being able to just collapse in a blissful heap. Sorry, if you’re a squirter you have to change the bed before you can both relax. 

7) Others expectations … On scene you can be reduced to a sum of your squirty parts. No one notices you for you… just get fixated on the ‘squirt’. At first its fun to perform, but believe me it wears off really quickly.

8) Proof that you’ve come? Well no not really. I can squirt without even coming. When you’ve been doing it as long as I have, you learn the tricks. So all you dudes out there who think it proves your fabulous lovemaking skills, sorry to burst your bubble, but squirters squirt with or without your input.

9) Makes having safe sex really, really hard…. I can’t put a condom on! And I can’t aim. When it gushes it goes everywhere. Be aware of this all you safe sex people out there.

Okay that’s enough moaning on my part. 
Now I’m trying to find the stopcock to turn the damn thing off… 
No, that’s just a plumbing joke. 
Sometimes I wish I could just put a plug in it though.


Back to our story:
We planned the meet around the ladies monthly cycle, due to the fact that Dana was menstrual at the club and Suzy wasn’t, we didn’t want a reverse in fortunes.
Two weeks was perfect timing. Andy & Dana were clearly excited, this time they wouldn’t be restricted by the clock or club owners, not to mention wandering stray hands.
We met them at their local pub, which just so happened to be nothing more than two minutes away from their apartment.
We ordered a few drinks, vodka and cokes if I recall correctly, I’m not a drinker myself so Suzy decided to finish my drink for me as I clearly wasn’t up to it. I’m very much a soft drinks type of guy.
After, let’s say, thirty minutes or so Andy received a phone call from a friend; this guy was clearly also a work colleague.
Andy made it clear that he couldn’t talk at that time as he was about to have some fun, it was pretty obvious that this friend was aware of his friend and his partner’s antics.
Not long after that phone call Andy suggested that we make our way upstairs to their apartment.
As we exited the pub Dana pointed out the market stall they had had sex on, we found that very amusing.
We entered the apartment block, which was thirty seconds away, and headed for the lift, they were five floors up.
As we entered their cute little apartment, Andy offered us another drink. I asked for a coke, Suzy and Dana asked for pretty much the same as they had in the pub.
They had this huge bed/sofa on their living room floor, perfect for swinging, I guess.
As we sat down with drinks in hand we began to talk about the swinging club and previous experiences we had both had.
Somehow or another the Queen of Sheba came up in the conversation. She was well known on the circuit and Andy and Dana had obviously encountered her on more than one occasion.
They found her to be charming and confessed to have played with her at a party. They were shocked to hear that we didn’t have a nice word to say for her. They wanted to know why. Their jaws dropped as I told them our little tale….

It was a weekday; I was at Suzy’s apartment about to leave for work.
Suzy had been telling me of a conversation she had had with the Queen of Sheba earlier on in the day. It appeared that Suzy had become Sheba’s new favourite person, I wondered why?

It came to pass that Sheba wanted Suzy to hold workshops for women that squirt in a coffee bar in Soho. How daft was that?
For some reason or another, Suzy seemed interested. She truly believed that she and Sheba were forming some kind of friendship.
Suzy told me that she mentioned to Sheba that she no longer played with other men; she was solely playing with other women.
Sheba replied that Suzy should not allow pressure from me to sway her from other men.
Excuse me? Suzy came up with this idea all by herself, believe me.
Suzy reassured me that she had made this all very clear to Sheba whom then retracted her statement and told Suzy that she must be having some kind of crisis within herself and had to overcome it in order to move on with her life.
I looked at Suzy with amazement,
 “Please tell me you didn’t buy that shit!”
Suzy looked at me baffled by my reaction, she was clearly thinking of what to say next. Suzy replied:
 “But babe, she’s my friend and she’s just looking out for me. There’s nothing wrong with voicing her opinion!”
Suzy clearly couldn’t see the game that Sheba was playing.
A lot of people naively seem to think that only men play games.
Suzy was reluctant to voice her next statement but didn’t really have much choice:
“Babe, how would you feel about going to Essex tonight to meet up with Sheba and her business partner? It would just be the four of us; they want to talk business. She left me this voicemail, have a listen.”
I put the phone to my ear and listened to Sheba’s words.
It was basically as Suzy had explained but something was wrong. I gave Suzy back her phone and said:
 “She’s lying.”
Suzy asked why I would say such a thing.
I replied that she was stuttering and thinking off the top of her empty head. She clearly wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. If it was nothing more than business then why were we required to travel so far, why couldn’t they simply speak to you over the phone? In fact Sheba lives in South London so why couldn’t she meet locally?
Suzy was flabbergasted by my words. She replied:
“You’re being paranoid! What’s your problem?”
I was about to give Suzy the hard truth but for some reason I held back. I felt that this time around she had to feel pain in order for her to totally understand what some people were about.
She asked again why I was being paranoid. I didn’t give a reason. I just repeated my previous statement:
 “That lady is lying; I can hear it in her voice.”
Suzy shrugged off my words and asked if I’d at least consider going, as she couldn’t go by herself. I hinted at what my true feelings were:
“Why not? It’s just business, right? You should have nothing to worry about! Surely you don’t need me to conduct business.”
Suzy looked at me puzzled. She couldn’t quite understand why my feelings were so harsh towards this lady.
I left for work, saying I’d think about it, fully knowing this trip was never going to happen.

Whilst at work Suzy would ring every thirty minutes or so, she was trying to find out what time I was finishing work so she and Sheba could figure out between them what trains to catch and so on.
With my workload it was impossible to give an exact time. I never left the building until my work was completed, that’s just the kind of worker I was.
Another thirty minutes went by, another phone call. This time I couldn’t hold back my true feelings, I had to let them loose.
“Babe, she’s playing you for a dummy!”
 Suzy went quiet. Eventually she piped up:
“Why would you say that?”
I replied:
“Think about it, what does the Queen of Sheba do?  She’s an escort who promises her clients a good time. Not by playing with them but by convincing them that she’ll introduce them to the wonderful world of swinging and high society. She’s nothing more than a wanna-be female pimp/madame, all she does is get friendly with women in clubs hoping that they’ll show her client a good time for free while she gets paid for simply sitting back. Do you honestly think that she’d invite us all the way to Essex without sex being on the cards? If she really is telling the truth there would be four of us present: two men and two women. What do you think they would have in store for us?”

Suzy went quiet again, this time she was digesting what I was saying. She replied:

“I hear what you’re saying, babe but I’m pretty sure that isn’t the case; even if it was they can’t make us play!”
At this point I was thinking that Suzy had to be one of the dumbest smart people on the planet! Was she really being duped by this woman’s pathetic game?
I hung up the phone, I knew at some point my temper was going to boil over if I continued to talk.
Wasn’t long before Suzy called me again:
“ Babe, what’s up? Why are you being like this? I know you’re looking out for me but you’re being really paranoid right now!”
At this point I really had to let the cat out of the bag.
“ Suzy, I’m warning you, this isn’t a threat but I have to let you know what’s going on here. I tell you what, I’ll go with you!”
 Suzy seemed stunned but she was in for an even bigger surprise with what I was about to say:
“These are my terms though: if we reach that house and enter the living area and see more than Sheba and her business partner, there will be trouble!”

Suzy asked what I meant. I replied:
“It sounds to me that she’s setting us up. It’s an old game that I have witnessed many times as a teenager. Many times a certain dude would brag about a certain freaky chick he knew. Only problem when you brag is, that sometimes you have to back up your words with actions. That would often lead to the other dudes in the room asking to meet this, so called, freaky girl in person. Should the dude bragging wish to prove this girl exists, he would have no choice but to call the girl in question and ask her to come over as soon as possible. When the girl arrives she doesn’t anticipate that there will be many other people present. Now she’s in a sticky situation: the only female amongst so many horny men.

The other men present only have one thing in mind; they want to sample the freaky stuff this dude was chatting about. It’s now down to the main man to convince the girl in question to give everyone a free sample.
In the famous words of Nate Dogg: “It aint no fun if the homeys can’t have none.”
The young lady only has two options: either pull down her panties or walk the fuck out. Unfortunately very few were smart enough to realise the latter was actually an option.
For some reason I could sense this was exactly what Sheba had in store for us and I reminded Suzy about the previous party where Sheba had used Suzy to her own ends without even Suzy realising.
That had turned out to be the worst night in our relationship, I’m sure you can recap what situation I’m talking about, my dear reader.
Many people may have thought I was jealous or unreasonable that night.
What I didn’t explain about that incident is that at the time I saw a mercenary game unfolding before my very eyes.
Unfortunately Suzy was totally oblivious to it and I hadn’t the time or opportunity to explain right then what was happening

Suzy’s eyes filled up in recognition of that fateful night in question.
 I continued to explain to Suzy that Sheba was the type of woman who would try and make money or gain popularity off the back of Suzy’s squirting, hence the fact that she was suddenly so interested in Suzy’s life. Sheba wanted to be the big fish but didn’t know how to go about it, she saw other women as her ticket.
She had tried, with limited success to organize sex parties and had now resorted to poaching other swing club clientele by offering her services as a coat check girl at our regular swinging club, resplendent in her obviously home made burlesque outfits.
If she could convince attractive women to jump on board her project and then pull the wool over their eyes, she could then put them in very compromising positions. For example introducing them to her hungry clients of whom she was incapable of showing a good time, she wasn’t conventionally attractive, by any means. I told Suzy that I could visualise a good five to seven men waiting for her to arrive so they could witness the water works that Sheba had promised them.
If this prediction had become a reality I would have turned into Suzy’s worst nightmare, she would have witnessed the absolute worst aspect of me.
I would have inflicted as much bodily harm on every man in the room, not to mention Sheba! Someone would have had to call the police but I wouldn’t have given a fuck!
I continued:
“To be honest I’m quite looking forward to going now as I’m sure my suspicions are true, you need to see what type of person you are dealing with here. She’s a nasty piece of work and I will fuck her up!”
This time around my words sunk in. Suzy was now concerned, the teenage game I had described seemed to hit home. I told her I had to get back to work.
“We’ll chat in a bit.”
It wasn’t long before a frantic Suzy called me back:
“You’ll never guess what text message I just received from Sheba’s so called business partner?”

Suzy went on to explain that Sheba’s business partner had sent a message to all his contacts about an orgy that was taking place that very night at his place.
It gave all the information needed such as entrance fee and directions. Was this coincidentally the same night as our ‘business meeting?’ or was something more sinister going on here?
 This man didn’t know that he had inadvertently also sent this text message to Suzy.
What a clown! If only he had grasped what he had just done! He confirmed all my suspicions for me. The funny thing was, he was oblivious to the fact that we knew of their little plan. Oops, they had seriously fucked up!
All their clients and contacts wouldn’t be pleased when they realised there wouldn’t be a show for them to witness, they would have probably ended up asking for a refund.

I could tell by Suzy’s voice she was disappointed as the realisation dawned that her so-called friend had attempted to set her up.
She was also relieved that we didn’t get to go all the way to Essex as she was well aware that I wasn’t joking about my violent intentions.
Did Sheba think I was going to sit back and watch my woman being made a fool of? Hell no! I’d be damned before I allow that to happen.
As I’ve stressed many times before to Suzy, I know “GAME” in all of its forms, regardless of how simple or complex it maybe
When you’ve surrounded yourself with the kind of people that I grew up with, it’s kind of hard to miss.
Usually when I’m in the position of proving some one wrong I can’t help but say “I told you so” but in this case it was inappropriate, Suzy didn’t need the added embarrassment.
Suzy was very upset and much like me had no intention of letting this incident just disappear.
We wanted Sheba to know that she was well aware of what she had in store for us.
I thought it would be much better to just not show up and leave Sheba “red faced”, not that black people of dark complexion can turn red but the embarrassment would be too much for her to hide.
Suzy disagreed; I wasn’t about to argue with her, I’d already done enough detective work for the day so I thought I’d  leave the conclusion in her hands.
She sent a text message to Sheba telling her she had received a message from her business partner; she wanted to know whether the contents of the message were true.
Suzy was well aware of the truth but she wanted Sheba to squirm at the fact she had been caught out.
Just as Suzy thought, Sheba took her time to reply.
The coward, she eventually replied with an answer: “Yes it is! But let me call you to explain.”
With that Suzy sent a simple message, WE ARE NOT COMING, HAVE A GOOD NIGHT.

We bumped into Sheba around three months later at the once a month swinging club. To witness this socialite of the swinging scene duck her head when we entered the room was hilarious.
Let’s just say we’ve never seen such a big woman move so quickly.

Andy and Dana shook their heads in disbelief; they found it hard to believe that a woman they knew could be capable of such a thing.
I didn’t want to dampen the mood any longer so I quickly changed the subject to something more light-hearted.
The four of us chatted along for the next few minutes, Andy was plying the ladies with drinks; at this point I didn’t see a problem with that at all. Three of them appeared to be fairly sober despite the volume of alcohol they were consuming.
Wasn’t long before the girls were kissing and groping each other; this was soft swing at its best: two women who were genuinely attracted to each other.
Both ladies undressed each other with eager anticipation at what was about to happen.
I chose to stay clothed; I wasn’t that comfortable with getting naked so quickly in front of anybody, I was very much a slow starter.
Suzy and Dana were clearly fond of each other, they were kissing passionately. As Dana came up for a breather she said out loud: “I’m such a lesbian!” We all cracked up laughing.
Andy got undressed and jumped on the bed to get tucked into the action; it was pretty obvious that Dana and Andy wanted to resume the oral tag team they had formed at the club.
Just as Suzy was about to allow the tongue games to begin, she quickly blurted out “TOWELS!”
Andy leapt up with a smile and ran into the next room.
He would return not only with towels but also with a large plastic sheet, they had clearly taken heed from those text messages they had received.

He laid the plastic sheet down on the bed/sofa and the games begun as I sat back and watched.
A full twenty minutes later and I was still dressed, I have to confess that I’m a slow starter and feel odd about leaping into action. For some reason I got the bright idea in my head to record what was happening, the room wasn’t brightly lit but I thought what the hell. I pulled my mobile phone out of my pocket, loaded the camera and began to record.
The film was no longer than five minutes but my footage was pretty good. Andy and Dana had a red snake light in the room which vibrated well through the video to give it a wonderful effect.
I played the footage back to Andy; he seemed well chuffed and asked for the video to be sent via bluetooth to his laptop.
Once that was done I thought it was about time I joined in the fun, I could see I was much in demand.
I got undressed to wandering eyes. Dana and Andy seemed excited to see what I looked like naked. They appeared to be pleased with what they saw, Andy especially. Or was I seeing things?
The main reason for my reluctance to play in group situations is my incapability to get erections, for some reason my friend doesn’t rise to the occasion in front of spectators.
Andy offered yet another drink, both ladies accepted more alcohol.While he prepared the drinks I began to play with both ladies with a limp dick in hand.
Penetration was never on offer much to my relief but giving and receiving oral was expected, I was hoping the latter wouldn’t turn out to be embarrassing for me.
I kissed, sucked and stroked as usual, Dana seemed to love that, she wanted my fingers inside her but Andy returned with the much craved drinks.
As the ladies sipped on their drinks Dana began to tell us of another interracial couple they play with on regular basis.
She then put rest to what I had suspected by telling Suzy and I that Andy would often play with the male half of this couple.
The man in question according to Dana was a very attractive black man with dreadlocks; I myself don’t have dreadlocks but can now understand why Andy was so eager to see me naked.
To his credit he never attempted to touch me or try anything crafty; as he was aware I was straight.
With all tales of previous meets aside we all began to play, I still was having no luck with my friend downstairs but that wasn’t going to let that stop me from enjoying myself.
Dana and Andy were really going to work on Suzy and much to their delight they received the reward they were after.

Suzy let out one of the biggest gushes I have ever seen since I’ve known her. Andy and Dana were soaked from the waist up.
Despite this they wanted more action. I thought they would quit there but they were only just getting started.
For the next ten minutes they had Suzy squirting all over the room, sometimes as far as ten feet.
Unfortunately Suzy can’t control the direction of the fluid when she ejaculates, it just happens to land where-ever.
What Andy and Dana didn’t realize while having fun is that Suzy was hitting the television, stereo and digital display they had on their mantle piece.
Suzy’s noise level began to increase much to our host’s disapproval; they did have neighbours after all.
They didn’t dare say what they were thinking but it was written all over their faces, they kept shooting nervous looks in my direction, hoping I would encourage Suzy to keep the decibels down.
They should have thought about that before they made it their conquest to make her squirt endlessly, surely they must have anticipated that orgasms involve noise?
What I had noticed was Suzy’s behaviour. She did seem to be totally ignoring my pleas to tone it down.
She came across as dismissive and quite aggressive, that’s when I realized that Andy’s cocktails must have been pretty strong as the alcohol was definitely taking effect on Suzy’s persona.
Suzy and alcohol don’t mix well at all, some people may say I should have kept tabs on what she was drinking but she’s an adult after all, she has to take responsibility for her own actions.
At this point I realized I had to take control of the situation so I diverted the attention off Suzy and put it on myself.
I grabbed Dana and went to work with my hands and mouth.
Andy really seemed to enjoy watching Dana being pleasured just as much as she liked receiving it.
She was moaning and groaning while Andy groped her breasts from behind, at this point Suzy was merely a spectator.
Sitting back and watching isn’t Suzy’s style, wasn’t long before she jumped back into the action.
She had been receiving all night and was ready to return the favour; I knew this would be a bad idea as she was in a very aggressive mood.
Dana had a very tight pussy so the most I could manage was two fingers at one time, anything more would feel uncomfortable for her.
Suzy wasn’t to know this; especially when in a drunken state.
As I was in the middle of pleasing Dana, Suzy attempted to enter four of her fingers inside Dana.
Now Dana had six fingers inside of her, bad idea! I could see the displeasure in her face.
She quickly removed Suzy’s hand. I knew Suzy was in no state to acknowledge the discomfort she was causing and would only attempt to enter with even more fingers second time around uninvited.
With that in mind I made sure I told Suzy to just leave it be for the time being and allow my hands to do all the work.
As I plugged away at Dana her big breasts jiggled up and down, thank goodness she and Andy weren’t a full swap couple; any man with a penis more than seven and a bit inches would cause her great discomfort.
It took longer than I thought to bring her to orgasm but we got there eventually, my wrists were aching but I thoroughly enjoyed the workload.
With that, play time had come to an end. If only you could have seen the look on their faces when Andy turned the living room light on; it was classic! It was hard for them to hide their expressions; they couldn’t believe the mess they had created.
When I say the mess they created that’s exactly what I mean! They couldn’t really blame Suzy for what had happened; as they were the ones who determinedly went out of their way to make it happen.
They scanned the room looking at the damage, wet floor, wet TV, wet stereo and a pile of soaked towels.
I forgot to mention the mantle piece! They were truly entertained at the time it was happening; they took great pride in producing great squirts from Suzy’s soaking vagina.
Now reality had set in, they had to clear the mess up. Even though they were a lovely couple, I didn’t have much sympathy for them.
As they stood there trying to hide the look of amazement on their faces, they failed to remember that we had warned them way ahead of time.
Not to mention they had approached us not the other way around, they witnessed the mess that Suzy made that night in the club.
They were totally fascinated that night and wanted a private show, now they had experienced it in full, glorious technicolour, they weren’t too happy with the aftermath.
Surely they didn’t think that the fluid evaporates into thin air? Oh well.
Judging by their body language they didn’t want a second round, with that I made my excuses and told them we had to leave as it was late and we had work the next day, not that it wasn’t the truth.
Andy seemed pleased that we were about to leave, imagine that! When they were oblivious to the mess they couldn’t get enough but when the lights were on, their mood changed dramatically, out of site out of mind, it seemed.
It’s funny how things work out sometimes. It’s not like they knew Suzy was a gusher when they approached us at first but it most definitely played a part in their eagerness to meet us privately.
To think it was the very same thing, ultimately, that turned them off, is ironic. Let’s just say we never got invited back to their place for a repeat performance.
As for Suzy, she confirmed my fears the next day that she was drunk, as she didn’t have any recollection of what had taken place the night before.
We received an invite from them around two months via text message to meet up once again; this time though, not at their place but at the once a month club. I wonder why that was.

The Wake-up Call

Mood : devastated, empty


Dear diary ,
Oh my god oh my god oh my god!
Tonight was the worst night of my life! We just got back from the swinging club and I think that maybe it’s over between Dexter and me. I can’t stand it, I don’t understand.
What did I do?
All I know is that I’ve just spent an hour standing next to Dexter in silence waiting for a bus, feeling like the loneliest person on the planet. Now he’s lying next to me, not saying a word as I write this.
I never thought I’d find myself in this situation with Dexter. We can usually talk about anything. But right now, it looks like I’m the last person he wants to talk to, and quite frankly, I’m amazed that he’s still here at all. I’m sitting here barely able to see the screen as I type this on my laptop; the tears are running down my face.

Maybe if I tell you what happened tonight, I may be able to see more clearly where things went wrong for me. I sure hope so; I so want this relationship to work and would do anything to keep it. At the moment it feels like it’s hanging on by a thread.

Okay, this is what happened.
We had invited two other couples along to the club, a sexy experienced black couple who were travelling down quite a distance to meet us, and another interracial age gap couple similar to us. I had been chatting to the woman from the latter couple (Dee) for quite a while online and we had developed quite a rapport. I was looking forward to meeting her in the flesh. It had taken some time to gain her trust as her man without her knowledge made the initial contact. He had chatted to me online and his conversation had quickly turned sexual. She had felt quite threatened by this, so I had spent time reassuring her that I was not going to try and steal her man, quite the opposite, I was more interested in her. Her self-esteem wasn’t great, despite being a very attractive woman and I had spent quite a few hours reassuring her through online conversations that both Dexter and I found her attractive.
We arrived at the club, which was busier than usual. I went to the ladies room to change into my rubber dress for the night. It was hard to get on, but eventually I did it.
I chatted to Dangermouse who looked pretty worse for wear. It was early in the night but she had clearly been drinking heavily. She sprayed me with silicone spray so I was all shiny while she related her story of how she hated her own body since she had been taking steroids as part of her medication for her illness. She had been seriously ill, close to death in fact, and I think that this had impacted emotionally on her very hard. It would explain her reckless, self-destructive behaviour that we would witness later on. I sauntered out of the ladies’ and basked in the attention that I received. Oh I felt good.

We spotted Dee and Jerome (Jerome looked so young! There was no attraction for me there at all!)  we tried to make them feel at home. That was hard as they were both clearly terrified. Dexter chatted away with them and did a sterling job of making them feel at home as much as possible. I was ever conscious that the other couple were due to arrive and I went outside to welcome them in. The woman was very sexy indeed. I hadn’t had the opportunity to chat to her; all the initial contact was made by her man. I hoped she found me as attractive as I found her. I didn’t really feel any way towards her man. He was a nice enough man, but didn’t make me feel like she made me feel.
My attention was seriously divided that night. So I ended up chatting to Steve and Beverly, the black couple and thought that Dexter would look after Jerome and Dee and come and join the conversation with Steve, Bev and myself when he was ready to do so. I ended up kissing Beverly and going down on her; it seemed the natural thing to do. I wondered where Dexter was. I would have loved for him to join in with me. I felt a pair of hands creep towards me. I panicked…who’s hands were they? I looked down and realised they were Steve’s. Although I didn’t really want his involvement, I thought it would have been rude of me to take them away, so I allowed him to touch me, and I returned my attention to the very gorgeous creature in front of me. I felt another pair of hands touching me from behind as I was kissing Beverly, so I ducked down to kiss elsewhere, avoiding the touch from behind. I really didn’t want this to turn into a free for all, ideally I would have been happy to just play with Beverly and Dexter.
Dexter called me to look at an attractive woman who was being fucked by some geeky dude. She was a squirter just like me. I was a little confused at the significance of this interruption. I had seen that scenario at swinging clubs a hundred times over.
He walked off.
I stopped playing with Bev and wondered where he had gone. Why was he acting so strangely? Oh well, I was here to enjoy myself and I wasn’t going to spend my time walking around looking for him. I didn’t want to restrict Dexter’s movements in the club; that would have made me look really possessive. He would find me if he needed me, I figured.

My friend Queen of Sheba introduced me to a friend of hers. He clearly wanted to play. I think she must’ve said something about my squirting because he seemed to be on a mission.  I didn’t really want to, but I had nothing else to do and I figured that if I let him touch me and made no attempt at reciprocating that would be okay. If I distanced myself from what was happening to me that would remove my burden of guilt. It was only his fingers, what was the big deal?

In previous visits to this same club before I had met Dexter, I had let countless anonymous people touch me. The strange thing was though, that although the idea was appealing, the reality of it was strangely dull. I felt removed, distanced, as if I was watching someone else being the focus of attention. I could hear myself moan and groan but couldn’t equate that with any feelings of bliss. In fact feeling anything would have been good, the best I could feel was numb.  I made noise to keep myself from being involved. I was performing, and the very point of performing is to please others. The louder I groaned, the quicker I hoped the finale of the performance would arrive.

And so I found myself in a familiar environment, in a familiar position, moaning and groaning to speed up the process. Every now and then I would bear down to achieve the much anticipated (and I think over-rated) gush. I wasn’t coming. This was no proof of orgasm.  I felt nothing. This was faking it on a dramatic level. If he thought he was doing a good job, he would end it sooner, surely? I felt uncomfortable performing. I knew deep down that it couldn’t be a healthy thing to do but I was stuck in a groove, re-enacting a familiar part in a familiar play on a familiar stage. It seemed to go on forever and I got increasingly loud as I looked towards a speedy conclusion. I looked up and saw Dexter dancing with the lady friend of the dude who had his hand inside me. At least he was having fun, I thought.
Lucky him.
Eventually the man withdrew his hand and I was free to go: job done. I had provided the prerequisite puddle on the floor to prove what a fabulous job he had done on me. If only he knew.

I found it hard to get through to Dexter. Half of the time was spent wandering around trying to find him.

In my search I couldn’t avoid noticing Dangermouse jumping onto countless naked dicks and riding away bareback. Did that woman have a death wish? And why did the men let her do that? Why did her husband let her do that too? I had really presumed that in a swinging club full of open minded adults, safe sex would have been a given. Clearly it’s better and safer not to presume.

I felt really foolish in front of our guests as they witnessed me wandering around looking for Dexter. My irritation at him grew as the night wore on. He wasn’t behaving like the Dexter I knew. He had never been like this before.  I eventually found him sitting with the interracial couple we had invited along. His face looked like thunder. I knew that he didn’t want to be there. I went to sit with him to talk to him. I asked what was wrong but he just said he was bored. I knew that was rubbish. We could sit doing nothing at home with each other and still not be bored so why should he be bored in this stimulating environment? No, I knew he was masking his true feelings, and that unwillingness to communicate honestly with me was really pissing me off. I felt totally ineffectual at dealing with the situation. If he wasn’t honest with me about the real reasons behind his mood, how could I help resolve it?
I needed the bathroom. Unthinkingly, I gave my tiny handbag to Dexter as I really had no need for it in the ladies’, and started to walk through the crowd on the dance floor towards the ladies toilet. A hand reached out and grabbed me; it belonged to the co-owner of the club who turned out to be another friend (and ex fuck-buddy) of Sheba.

“Go on, dance with me!” he demanded.
Although I needed to urinate, I thought I could hang on for the length of the average record. I didn’t see the harm in dancing. How could anyone take offence to a dance? So I danced. He didn’t try and get too close, I didn’t see the harm. My rubber skirt rode up, I was aware of not wanting to expose too much flesh in this situation, so I pulled it down sharply. Oh no! It tore. A whole handful of the skirt came off in my hand exposing a great big area of my bottom Oh dear that was most unfortunate and embarrassing. My dancing partner pointed out to me that Dexter wasn’t looking too happy. That just made me mad. How unreasonable was Dexter being? I was only dancing. I hadn’t restricted his movements in the club, and jealousy was not something I thought belonged in a swingers club. The previous irritation I had been feeling for Dexter and frustration of not knowing why he was so grumpy seemed to boil up inside of me.
“Oh its ok, that’s his issues” I said.
I could understand if he was mad with me for doing something other than dancing it just seemed so unreasonable for him to be sulking right now .The dude who had played with me before came over and started to dance behind me.
That’s when I saw Dexter get really mad, he got up and grabbed me by the arm and marched me upstairs to talk. He was clearly angry to a degree to which I’d never before witnessed. Upstairs was locked so we never did get to the bottom of the problem, and the night ended up both of us standing in silence waiting for our night bus home. And here I am crying and wondering where it all went wrong….

Thursday evening

Hello diary. I feel a bit better now.
Things are clearer.
God, I love this man of mine. I’m feeling pretty fragile, as I know now just how close I was to losing him on Tuesday night.

Dexter invited me out to lunch at our local gastro pub. We hadn’t really managed to talk about that night’s goings on, so I was pretty nervous about what he was going to say to me. He sat down and opened his heart to me. Told me just how he felt. I had had no idea that he had been feeling like I was ignoring him!  That was odd to hear because I had felt almost the same.
I thought he would rather be with other people that night and I didn’t want to ‘cramp his style’ by hanging off of him. After all it was a swingers club; we were there to interact with others so I confused his hurt / rejected /ignored signals for aloofness.
It did confuse me, hence my building anger. It seems like I had behaved like an idiot without realising it. If only I had known that my lovely man wanted my interaction and attention! And to find out that those were his hands that I had ducked out of that time. No wonder he had felt so rejected. Baby, I didn’t know!

As he sat there and poured out all the hurt and anger that he had felt that night, I was overwhelmed with so many mixed emotions. I was scared that I could bring such vitriol and violence out of my man. I was touched that he cared enough about me to be so hurt by my seeming rejection of him. Most of all, I was grateful that he was still there, in front of me trying to sort this situation out. That emotional investment touched me. I had never met any other man who was prepared to look past my complexities and try and understand my troubled, confused behaviour in such a challenging situation. It all got a bit much for me as his obvious hurt and anger poured out. I fled to the bathroom to have a good cry on my own. He didn’t like to see me cry so I needed to get away to let the tears flow unrestricted. I just let it all pour out of me. I was so sorry that my lack of sensitivity at that club almost cost me the best relationship I have ever had. I was frustrated that I couldn’t seem to explain my motivation for behaving the way I did without looking like a fool. Why couldn’t I behave like other women? What was the problem with me? I knew the abuse I had gone through in the past held the key, but I had no idea of how to use it to unlock the padlock of confusion.

I just let the tears fall until I had none left. I knew I looked a mess but I felt safe in the knowledge that my man would look past that, so I bravely ventured back into the pub, crumpled tissues in hand, secretly praying that it wasn’t too packed with customers. Turned out it didn’t matter. All I saw was my man sitting there. He filled my whole world that day. When he looked at my swollen red face, with a look that only a man who deeply cared could muster, I knew we would get through this. I knew he understood that I would never knowingly go out to hurt him. Sometimes it’s good to show pain and sorrow. My dejected blotchy face was worth more than a hundred sorrys. We held hands across the table. I caught my breath in that pathetic way that a baby does after it has been sobbing for a while and my bottom lip quivered.

No more swinging clubs.
Something inside me told me they weren’t good for either of us. I clearly couldn’t handle being in that situation with a man that I loved. I couldn’t switch off knee jerk behaviour that stemmed directly from hardwiring from my difficult past. I couldn’t adapt. Dexter had often suggested that maybe the scene was contributing to my abuse issues and making them worse and he didn’t want to be responsible for that. I had always refuted that claim. I stubbornly maintained that I could stay on top of the situation and behave in an appropriate manner in a swinging club situation. Tuesday night had shown me just how wrong I could be. Dexter was right. I could not behave appropriately and with awareness in those situations. Oh it’s so hard to admit to being damaged. Someone please fix me.

I was young, barely 16, and I was seeing a much older, cooler man who was well loved and respected in our local community. He was an ex surfer, with the prerequisite blonde dry hair, deep tan and pale blue eyes. He ran his own seafood restaurant in the nearby seaside town and was quite the catch. I never quite understood how I had managed to catch such a man; I can’t quite remember how I was introduced to him in the first place. We didn’t date, I didn’t question that. He would just pick me up in his open top sports car and take me back to his very stylish bachelor pad at the nearby marina where we would have sex. He had a yacht moored just outside and the living room windows opened up straight onto the waterfront. This was seductive stuff. I wish I had the knowledge I have now, back then and could have seen that I was nothing more than a sexual object.
In my eyes Ronnie was my boyfriend and I was lured in by his glamorous lifestyle and his pale blue piercing eyes.
I stared up at those eyes as he lay on top of me. We had had sex three times already and now he was starting over again. Not that I was complaining, I loved making him happy. We had barely begun when there was a commotion. A big gang of men, around eight of them, walked into his house seemingly uninvited, hadn’t he locked his front door? They seemed agitated but they clearly knew Ronnie, not that Ronnie seemed pleased to see them. They burst into the bedroom; saw Ronnie and me in bed. One of the men seeing what was going on said,
‘We gonna get ourselves some of that’
I wondered what he meant.
I soon found out.
Ronnie got out of bed and went to go and speak to the men in the living room. Some of the gang leered at me, as I pulled the sheets up around my nakedness. I heard voices being raised and an argument broke out. One of the men ran into the bedroom, ran straight up to the wardrobe, opened it up and took out a suitcase. Ronnie started to shout and jump up and down to try and reach it as the man held it over his head. Ronnie was not tall, his attempts at retrieving the case were futile. Then I heard the man holding the case say:
“I’ll give you the drugs in exchange for the girl.”
The next thing I knew all the men were in the room and it was quite clear that I was some sort of drug trade-off. I froze. I didn’t know Ronnie was a drug dealer, but I suppose it explained the flash bachelor pad and yacht, the restaurant business doesn’t pull in that amount of money when I came to think about it.

Did I scream? No. Did I fight? No. Did I even protest slightly? No. I found myself in a strange state of limbo where I found myself unable to respond as man after man penetrated me and collapsed after climaxing inside me. One face blurred into the next as I stared straight up at their eyes, imploring them silently to stop. I was numb. I didn’t feel any pain or pleasure, just a deep sense of horror and fear and confusion. Why was this happening to me? Why wasn’t Ronnie doing anything to help?
I recognised the next face that loomed over me. I recognised a local man who I knew from around the way, I knew that he was due to be married in the morning. I smiled as he pushed his erect penis into my semen drenched pussy and started to pump away. I was waiting until he was about to come…
At the moment of his orgasm I sank my teeth deep into his neck and drew blood.
‘Go and explain that one to your wife in the morning when she walks down the aisle with you” I whispered.
I didn’t know if he heard me.
He swore.
“Fucking bitch! What you have to go and do that for? Watch out boys, this bitch bites!”
The rest of the men made sure they had their hands firmly over my mouth as they had their fun.
I don’t know how many times they did it. I don’t know how long it lasted.  I don’t know how I got home. I put it to the back of my head in a file labelled “stuff to ignore” and got on with my homework.
I never saw Ronnie again.

Things fall apart   

Here we are again, at the swingers club for the umpteenth time.
It’s a new venue this time, but still with the same old faces.
We’ve invited along two couples that we’ve been chatting to on msn so at least we’ve brought some variety to the mix. We thought this would be the perfect opportunity for all us to meet and maybe even play.

The club we frequent allows non-members to be invited as guests. This was in the hope that they would one day become members and then entice other people to join the club.
The first of our couples to arrive was Steve and Beverly. They were a black couple from the outskirts of London. They were very attractive, not to mention persistent. They had been chasing us for a while and had travelled a fair distance to meet us that night. They were a full swap couple as were we at the time.
The second of our guests, Jerome and Dee, arrived a few minutes afterwards. They were a couple very similar to us actually, also interracial, he black, she white and they also had an age gap like ours. She was mid thirties and he was in his early twenties. They were newbie’s to the Scene and so had little experience.
Jerome and I had quite a bit in common although he wasn’t as mature. He came across as a big child and his baby face didn’t exactly help. Dee was very attractive. I licked my lips at the prospect of playing with her. She was insecure about her size as she had told me earlier on msn. She was a size eighteen but curvy. She pulled the size off well; indeed she was quite the looker.
I knew there was no chance of me playing with her that night,
firstly because of my inability to perform in a crowd but more importantly, the two of them look petrified; much as I did the first time I attended this club. Suzy and I realised that we’d have to get them in private some other time if anything was to happen sexually between the four of us.

Prior to Suzy and me reaching the venue she was all pumped up at the prospect of creating the Negro League all over again in a little corner. She had it all planned out. We would get there nice and early so we could snag the big sofa and keep it for the rest of the night.
Suzy told me that she wasn’t really interested in playing with Steve or Jerome. She just couldn’t wait to get her teeth into Beverly and Dee. I found that statement a bit odd as I was well aware of her past encounters in this club. Why would she not be bothered with Steve and Jerome? After all they weren’t bad looking and were bound to be the only other black men in the club, with the exception of an odd brutha sprinkled here and there around the venue. She acknowledged that she couldn’t just ignore Steve and Jerome but her main focus would be on the ladies.

As the night progressed, a lady who goes by the name, “Queen of Sheba” strolled over.
She and Suzy had been friends on Scene for a few years, although I had warned Suzy many times not to trust her. You’ll find out much later on why my suspicions were proven right, but for the purpose of this story so far, she hadn’t done anything wrong.
She was a large black lady and very popular. Everyone knew her. Suzy introduced her to our guests. She seemed pleased to meet some new faces. It transpired that Queen and Beverly knew each other from school.
I left Queen with Suzy, Steve and Beverly to go look for our other guest couple, as they seemed to have disappeared. I found them in the middle of the dance floor clinging onto each other for dear life. It was evident that the club scene wasn’t for them. I made sure they were okay and reassured them that I’d check on them from time to time.

The Negro League didn’t quite work out that night. The place was crammed full of couples, this night had to be one of the busiest I’d ever seen it. We kept getting separated so the Negro League kind of flopped. Oh how I wished it hadn’t. As I made my way back to the others, I noticed that Suzy and company had somehow drifted to the wall on the other side of the room.
I made my way over. Suzy was chatting with Beverly and Steve. As they appeared deep in conversation, I didn’t just butt in. I was raised with manners and that would have been considered rude behaviour.  A few minutes had passed. I noticed that I had yet to be invited into the conversation. Surely this wasn’t intentional?
I’m no cry baby, so I brushed it off.
A good ten minutes ticked by and I was still being ignored. Steve and Beverly didn’t know me so that was no big deal, but for Suzy to ignore me was something else entirely.  At this point, feeling like I had no other option, I just ignored my upbringing and jumped into the conversation.
Funny thing was, when I did that they suddenly didn’t have anything to say
“Fine!” I thought.
We were a couple, Suzy and I, not fuck buddies. Why was I being treated like one?
As I pulled myself out of the conversation, the friendly banter and laughter began again, bloody typical!
I didn’t want to cause a scene and embarrass Suzy by confronting her about her bad manners. Had I done so it would have resulted in an argument and given the circumstances, would not have been the right place or time. At this point I thought by dropping a light statement into the mix, they may choose to engage me in their conversation.
Earlier on I had noticed a scrawny looking man ogling an absolute stunner. I remember thinking to myself “Dream on bruv!”
To my amazement, as I turned to my left, there he was banging the very same stunner from behind as her husband watched on.
I turned to my right and tugged on Suzy’s top.
“Look babe!” I said.
Suzy took one look at the two banging away then looked back at me. Her look said everything: You interrupted my conversation for this?! She quickly turned back to Steve and Beverly and continued her conversation.
Beverly gave me a nervous look as she herself could now see what was going on. At that point my emotions were at boiling point. I felt so disrespected by Suzy. How dare she punk me, especially in front of our guests? However, despite simmering with inner rage, I gave her the benefit of the doubt and walked away.
Ladies, if you think I was over reacting, consider this: if the tables had been turned and I had been ignoring Suzy in the same manner, she probably would’ve slapped me and walked out in a huff. At this point in our relationship, I couldn’t receive as much as an innocent text message from another woman without her sulking for a good while and provoking an argument. Was I being unreasonable here or overreacting? I think not.

I didn’t know what to do with myself. I went to look for Jerome and Dee. When I found them they looked like they’d made themselves pretty comfortable already as Dee was giving Jerome head on one of the couches. They clearly didn’t need assistance so what was I to do now?
I returned to Suzy, and Steve and Beverly.
As I returned the inevitable was happening. Suzy’s tongue was down Beverly’s throat and Steve who was standing behind Beverly was reaching around to fondle Suzy’s lower regions. This was a swingers club after all. I went to join in but as I did, I could feel I wasn’t welcome.
On feeling my hands on her breasts, Suzy quickly squatted so she could go down on Beverly, making herself inaccessible for me.
Beverly could see the look of resentment on my face. She presumed it was directed at her for some reason, oh how wrong she was.
At this point, the simmering emotions I had held in earlier bubbled over. I nearly lost it. I saw red.  In my mind’s eye, I could see myself smashing Suzy’s head against the wall, the anger I felt was so strong.
Despite my many physical altercations of the past, I wasn’t one to hit a lady; it wasn’t part of my character. I was raised well by my parents and know for a fact they would strongly disapprove of me laying my hands on any woman. Only a coward would act in that manner and I was anything but a coward.

I needed to be alone.
I went upstairs to the empty bar area and just sat there for about twenty minutes until the rage had subsided somewhat, then went back down stairs to see if the situation had changed.
I walked in to see Queen of Sheba introducing a young black couple to Suzy, Beverly and Steve. I didn’t feel as if I’d be welcome after the last incident, so I didn’t walk over to the huddle. Instead I chatted briefly with Danger Mouse and her husband, but I was interrupted as someone rudely dragged me away.
It was the petite black girl from the couple Suzy was chatting to. Her name was Precious. She said she needed to dance with someone and that she thought I’d be the best candidate for the job. I found it odd that she would just choose me from all of the men in the room, especially in such an abrupt manner, but I thought what the hell, it’s just a dance.
Half way through the first track she looked at me and said,
“Look at what my man is doing to your woman!”
I turned around to witness her man’s entire hand thrust deep inside Suzy. Suddenly it all made sense. Precious was nothing more than a mere diversion. These people had underestimated me. If they kept on pushing me like this, the way I was feeling, they’d find out exactly why the thugs from around the way used to call me the “Angel of Death.”
I turned my head away from the offending view and kept on dancing with Precious while Suzy continued to make a scene, wailing like a fucking clown. The noise she was making made my blood boil. How dare she make such a fool of herself! I felt embarrassed to be associated with such a performing monkey.
As she continued to make a spectacle of herself, my thoughts turned to her expectations of getting sex from me later after the club. There was no way I was going to touch her. Her behaviour repulsed me. She may as well make the most of that hand inside her. We usually fucked like crazy when we got home from the club. She could forget that idea tonight.
I tried to distract myself dancing with Precious for about another fifteen minutes, then she suddenly pushed me away like I had a disease and walked over to the other side of the room.
I turned around and sure enough, this idiot’s forearm was still inside my woman.
Now, I’m not that bothered by her playing with other men but don’t do it in way that makes me look like an idiot in the process.
The worst thing anyone can do to me is to embarrass me in public, and Suzy had just managed to do that in spectacular fashion.

I bought myself a drink and slunk back upstairs to my sanctuary to have some privacy.
Twenty minutes later I went back downstairs. It wasn’t good. In fact it had got worse. To my amazement this nigger still had his arm inside Suzy. She was making a scene with all the pathetic noise she was making. Every time she moaned, I cringed.
He loved the fact that she was squirting all over the place. He thought that this proved his ability as a lover. What a fool! If only he knew that a squirter is a squirter, plain and simple. It doesn’t take much to make it happen. In fact, I knew for a fact that Suzy could fake it, make the squirt happen without an orgasm; so much for his skills. But he still stood there looking pleased with himself.

Yet again Beverly gave me a nervous look, she could see I wasn’t impressed but then neither was she.

I stood adjacent to Suzy about ten feet back. She must have known at this point that she had fucked up as she kept her eyes closed, she didn’t want to make eye contact.
I was glad she didn’t catch my glance. At this point in time I wanted no association with this woman. I was disgusted by her vulgar behaviour. She had been blanking me all night but then still allowed a complete stranger to violate her for damn near three quarters of an hour. This was the same woman who claims I’m the only man she’s ever loved. The same woman that claims that I’m the most unique and special man she’s ever met and yet she had the cheek to treat me this way. Actions speak louder than words.
I had never been so disrespected in my whole life, especially by someone that I go out of my way for.
I thought back to her earlier assertions that she only wanted to play with Beverly and Dee. She hadn’t paid Jerome and Dee any attention all evening.  She had clearly changed her mind.  It was clear that the few Negroes sprinkled about the venue would get her full attention, with one notable exception: me.

It seemed Precious’ man had developed a cramp in his arm. He stopped doing what he was doing and went to find something to clear up the mess that Suzy had created on the floor.
I noted that the only other person who looked as smug as he did after that silly freak show was the Queen of Sheba. She looked very pleased with herself.
As well as looking like a fool and disrespecting herself, Suzy had lined herself up as Queen’s number one get rich scheme.

As the black Zorro cleaned up the mess, Suzy eventually plucked up the courage to look at me. She gave me the innocent ‘Oops look at what I’ve done’ look.
I walked away in disgust.

I leant against a wall and sipped at my drink. I thought to myself, how did I get involved with someone like this and how do I make her feel the pain that I feel right now? __
For all those that know me, they would tell you that I’m the most vindictive person on the planet! If you hit me, I’ll hit you back twofold and twice as hard.
All I could think was that I wanted Suzy to feel my pain tenfold. At this point I grew increasingly annoyed with myself.
I so wished that I could get wood like the rest of the guys in the venue. I began to curse myself for not having organised a pack of ED pills. If I had any, I would have overdosed on three pills and fucked every willing pussy in the room twice over. If I died in the process it would have been worth it just to see the hurt on her face. I wanted to hurt her in the same way she had hurt me.
As I stood there cursing myself, she came from behind and kissed my neck. I felt my skin crawl.
‘How dare you kiss me,’ I thought. ‘You only want to know me now that Zorro’s arm has frozen up… FUCK YOU!’
I should have said it out loud. I’m not sure why I didn’t, to be honest.

A few dudes from around the way once told me that they thought I had gone soft because I was letting certain things slide.
I tried to reassure them that that wasn’t the case but after tonight’s events, I began to think that they might have been right.
In the past no man, let alone a woman, could openly disrespect me without there being serious repercussions to deal with afterwards.
Now here I am allowing this woman to get away with damn near murder, just so I can save her the embarrassment of a public cussing. This was her domain so I spared her the indignity of being humiliated in front of her peers.

I walked away from her without saying a word and found a seat.
Suzy stood there frozen; she clearly didn’t know what to do. She was unsure whether she was about to see the legendary temper she had heard so much about.
A little fact all those reading should know; Suzy would always insist she wanted to see me at my worst, for what reason I don’t know.
I always made it very clear I didn’t want to ever revert back to that state of being, that if I went there I would have to pay a steep price as I was no longer a youth.
She didn’t seem to care about my progression or my maturity, on this night she was very close to having her wish granted.
She eventually sat on the arm of the chair in silence. Once she plucked up the courage to speak she asked me a question.
“What’s wrong?”
I could have told her the truth by saying I didn’t want to be associated with a clown, but I thought that should be saved for private. So I lied and said I was bored. She looked disappointed with my response. God knows how she would have reacted had I elected to tell her the truth.

Jerome and Dee were sitting on the couch beside me. Suzy clearly felt uncomfortable around me and asked me to hold her purse while she went to the ladies room.
As I turned to chat with our new friends, I heard Suzy yell out, “Oh no look at my dress!”
A big chunk of her rubber outfit was in her hand.
I assumed that one of the few other black men in the club, who just so happened to be the co-owner of the venue ( and a good friend of Queen of Sheba) had ripped her skirt.
Suzy would later assure me that he hadn’t. She had torn the dress herself attempting to pull it down to cover her modesty.
I turned back to chat again but Jerome had a funny look on his face. He said to me,
“I thought she was going to the ladies room”.
As I turned, to my surprise, yet again she was making a fool of herself, and in turn, me.  She was dancing with the co owner of the club, the fucking cheek of it!
She had asked me to hold her purse like some sort of manservant, so she could dance with the next man!
She must be sick in her head.
She already knew that I was in a mood because she had messed up and now she still had the balls to disrespect me?
We’d see about that.
I was waiting for her to catch my eye, but yet again she didn’t dare.
At this point I lost it. The red mist descended. There was no room for swallowing my pride any more, I needed to act.  I emptied my bottle of alcopop to use as a weapon.
I was going to bust it over his head.
I also had a vision of using it on Suzy, not that I would have actually have carried it out but the vision was satisfying.  She was the one disrespecting me, not him.
If it wasn’t for Jerome and Dee seeing just how mad I was and calming me down I would have been arrested that night for assault, not that I cared as it would have been worth it.

For years I had been trying my best to calm my temper.
To be the so-called bigger man and walk away from confrontation, fat good that does, it just makes you appear to be the weaker person in my eyes.
Where I’m from it doesn’t pay dividends to back down from beef; if people think you’re weak they will attack you.
I thought I had done well up to this point but Suzy was setting me back years with her behaviour. She had pulled me straight back into a situation that had pushed my boundaries and challenged me.
I never looked for trouble, it found me; I just dealt with it abruptly. So much for avoiding scraps.
As I said previously, I’m not one to hit a woman but Suzy was trying her damnedest to be the first.
I composed myself.
It was one thing to lie about going to the ladies room, but to have me hold her bag while she danced with another man? She clearly thought I was her bitch! We’d see who the bitch was when we left there! As my blood was boiling, I tried to convince myself the night couldn’t get any worse.
What a surprise!
The return of Zorro, he saw his opportunity to pick up where he had left off. He and the club co-owner were pressed up either side of Suzy. I’d be damned if I’d allow her to be sandwiched in front of my own eyes after a night like this.
There was only so much a man could take, surely.
I noticed how Suzy didn’t object to being sandwiched right in front of me.
In the past I’d heard horror stories of normally loving couples fighting at swingers clubs. I’d often wondered how they got to that point and why. Now I was finding out first hand.
To think I was about to be humiliated by two chicken eating niggers and a clueless bleach blonde Latino chick with issues… HELL NO! No way would I have let that happen.

The thing that hurt the most was the co-owner actually considered my feelings at one point. He asked her if it was okay for him to be dancing with her as he could see I was upset.
Her response was incredible. I won’t even write it down as it would just infuriate me.

I’d always said to Suzy not to say things she didn’t mean such as “I love you” and “You’re special”. She would always swear on her life that she meant the things that she said.
If that’s how she treated the man she loved, god knows how she would treat an enemy. Before she could anger me any more and embarrass herself further, I dragged her away from the situation.
I felt so angry, I could have killed her.

But I didn’t. Instead I took her upstairs to chat but they had locked the doors. I asked her what the fuck she thought she was playing at?
She had no answer.
Never again would any man or woman disrespect me the way Suzy did that night.
The ride home that night was uncomfortable to say the least.
She was well aware of my anger on the way home not to mention the next day.
I didn’t really vent my anger or concern till a few days later when I invited her to have lunch in a nearby bar.
I didn’t lose my cool. I calmly let her know how I was feeling that night and asked her why she had acted the way she did. I simply said: “What if I had treated you the way you treated me, that night? How would you have felt?”
After considering this for a while, Suzy burst into tears. The realization of what she had done a few nights previously had finally hit her.
I felt bad for making her cry even though I needed to get that shit off my chest. For some reason I had a serious soft spot for this woman. Despite all the drama she had brought into my life she genuinely always had good intentions. She brought out a soft side in me somehow. Even when I was blunt with her it wasn’t with the intention of hurting her feelings, unlike most of the girls who had felt my wrath in the past.
To be honest that’s a lie, I didn’t keep too many girls in my company long enough for them to do anything that would piss me off. Only a handful had the balls to provoke me, boy did they wish they hadn’t once I had dealt with them. My tongue was my weapon and my words were deadly.  I didn’t mince my words, my intention was to rip the shit out of them and that’s exactly what I did. They always seemed to mistake my politeness for weakness, I’m nobody’s fool.
With Suzy it was different.
I never meant to hurt her feelings when I raised my voice; she was too sweet for that.
All I needed to do was to make her aware of wrong doing on her part, and that’s what I did in the bar.
When she returned from the ladies room with her face all red from sobbing I was quick to console her.
She’s one of very few women I’ve ever met that could piss me off but yet bring such compassion out of me.
How she does it I don’t know, but she’s worth the effort.

Great White Hunters

Image by WireLizard via Flickr

Here we are, another day, another entry.
It’s hard for me to believe that Suzy and I just had a heated debate over the dreaded Great White Hunters.
For those of you who have no idea what a Great White Hunter is, these are white married couples that meet only black men for recreational sex.
This isn’t a known term on scene as Suzy gave them this title, although the term is growing in popularity on the scene due to chat rooms on adult sites.

The debate started when I decided to send an email to an attractive middle-aged female on one of the many sites of which we happen to be members.
At the time I messaged her, I didn’t think much of it. She said she was bisexual, this being the most important factor to take into consideration when we message women and of course she only liked black guys! So I thought why the hell not?
She was based in London and although she was married her husband never got involved physically in her meets, at most he would request to watch and take pictures but this wasn’t essential if her potential meets weren’t comfortable being photographed.
I didn’t really expect for her to reply as she stated that her preference was “single black men”, she would only consider couples on rare occasions.
I knew it was a long shot but never considered that Suzy would have a problem with my messaging this woman; besides I’d messaged many women previously that had perfectly suited Suzy’s taste.
If this lady replied to our email with interest we were in for a treat as it was clear she was a no-nonsense type of swinger. By no means was she a timewaster like so many other so called bi–sexual women on scene.
When Suzy returned home, I was still browsing the adult sites looking for other potential women to message and checking for any possible replies to the tons of emails I had sent over the past week.
Suzy dragged a chair towards the desk to join me; she enjoyed weeding out the real profiles from the fake shit that floated about on the web.
We continued to browse the sites when we stumbled onto the lady in question; her profile name was “HOTMILF”.
I told Suzy that this was one of the women I had messaged prior to her return; I thought she was a good prospect.
Suzy asked for me to open her profile so she could have a read for herself. The introduction of the profile made Suzy laugh, it read:


Suzy continued to read the rest of the profile:

Married cpl wanting to play with vvvwe, ( very, very, very well endowed) toned, good looking black guys, sorry all you white guys and other colours we are only looking for big black cocks… 
Bi females are more than welcome, will consider exceptional couples.
I have to say I adore black men, the way they look, smell and feel, if it was up to me all gorgeous black men would fall at my feet and worship me, once that’s out of the way they can do what they do best; Fuck me senseless! That’s why they were put on this earth.
I have to point out that the reason we do not meet bi or bi-curious guys is simply because my hubby is str8 and we have no need for a bi guy, also the reason we do not meet white guys is because my hubby is white so when I play I like to play with what I haven’t got not what I have got….we have no ill feelings what so ever against bi guys or white guys, they are simply not needed, as its been pointed out several times in nasty mail form I must be a racist…well does that mean I have to shag every White, Asian guy on this planet to prove to them I’m not..?????…..I don’t think so, all nasty abusive mail will be pasted to support@admin from now on, there isn’t a need for it.

Suzy didn’t look impressed in the slightest; the look of disdain on her face took me by surprise. I asked her what the problem was. She replied that she objected to the way this woman objectified black men. If she truly adored black men then why hadn’t she married one? Suzy felt this woman’s opinion of black men was completely out of order and felt that she was implying that black men as a race were not mature or civilised enough to have a relationship with a woman of her ilk. Her profile inferred that the only thing black men were good for was barbaric and savage acts of sex! Just the way she liked it; white men were way beyond that animalistic type of behaviour as they’d evolved and black men hadn’t.

I’d never actually thought of it that way until Suzy expressed her feelings. Although I saw her point I found it hard to be offended by the words written on the profile.
To be honest, I didn’t take her words to heart as I didn’t feel she was being serious. The passage that referred to us as being her sex slaves was nothing more than light humour in my eyes.
As far as I was concerned if Suzy’s summary of this profile was correct then the only person who would look the fool in this situation was Hotmilf herself, not so much the black men she was meeting.
Even if the black men in question took offence to the passage Suzy was referring to, not too many brothas would pass up quick and easy sex, especially since a lot of single men on scene regardless of colour are actually married! They’re hardly in a position to be choosy.
If, in her opinion, black men have yet to evolve, then why would she want to be violated by them? Even worse, why would her civilised white male partner want to witness such a spectacle? I guess only they could answer that question.
We never did receive a reply from Hotmilf, although she did attempt to chat with us on many occasions in the chat rooms.
She would pay us compliments non-stop, especially to Suzy; she seemed to think they had something in common due to the fact that Suzy had a black partner in me.
Suzy didn’t like to be put in the same bracket as such a woman and was quick to dismiss any similarities.
It was at that point I had an epiphany.

Was Suzy so harsh on this woman for the sheer fact that she saw herself reflected every time she encountered this woman? Before having met me, all of Suzy’s casual flings/sex partners were black!
With the exception of this Hotmilfs fantasy of having black sex slaves what was there to differentiate? Did Suzy not also seek out black men? It said so on her profile when I first met her!
Suzy was not impressed with this notion.
She let it be known with venom in her voice that I better not ever in my lifetime compare her with such a woman:
Suzy continued:

“Yes I sought out black men, but not for the same reasons.
First off, I find black men more attractive, I don’t know why! It’s just the way it is.
As for black men doing what they do best, skin colour doesn’t determine whether someone is a great lover or not. Trust me I know; to buy into stereotypes like that is pure ignorance and to think this woman has actually encountered black men and still has this opinion is quite sad.
With me there was always a window of opportunity for a relationship, hence the fact you’re sitting next to me right now. If I viewed you in the same light as this woman I would have kicked you out the minute you blew your load.
There would be no pleasantries exchanged, I would be cold and heartless.
I view you as a wonderful human being, not a wonderful “Black man” this woman could never have the same feelings for any black man regardless of how attractive, intelligent, sweet or successful they were.
She views all black men in the same light, like you all share the same brain! Doesn’t that sound like the words of an Imperial wizard of the KKK or some other right wing spokesperson?”

After listening to that, I had no choice but to totally agree with what she was saying although I had to stress to Suzy that Black men on scene just wouldn’t have given a damn.
As far as they were concerned she was just as savage, if not more so, than they were for pulling down her panties and spreading her thighs. Quite frankly I had to agree.
Suzy nodded her head in acknowledgement that I also had a good point. Who was Hotmilf or her husband to judge anybody’s character on the basis of colour?

As time went on we seemed to encounter more and more Great White Hunters despite the fact I knew that the men they were encountering only cared about the pussy, I was amazed at how some brothas would stoop so low just to get it.
They were happy to play the obedient Negro if it meant pussy at the end of the rainbow. As a confident, confrontational person I could never take orders or hold my tongue knowing that someone held such a low opinion of me.
I’d be damned if I was going to show my teeth just to make everyone around me comfortable, I was no submissive.
We would often receive emails from hopeful couples and single bi women from abroad wishing to meet us. The women in question had never had sex with a black guy before and were curious about it. They were wondering if we would travel to meet with them.
We didn’t mind receiving emails from people such as these, as they weren’t discriminating by means of race, just curious. They’d figured we’d be a safe meet and had no intention of excluding Suzy in the process.
There were many couples all over Europe that had the same wants and desires as Hotmilf, but the capital for this particular genre of swinger had to be Florida.
It seemed that most American Great white hunters congregated there. It had to be a haven for well-off white couples that indulged in these ‘sexploits.’.
You wouldn’t believe how many middle aged white couples (some in their 60’s) there was that excluded all races other than black from their wish list. It made me wonder if these same people were having these same fantasies during the segregation days in the U.S.A.
In those days the law of the land, not to mention running the risk of being a nigger-loving race traitor, would have restricted them. Now, in a new century, no law could stop them now; they were free to run wild.
I would always chuckle to myself when breezing through these profiles, most of them consisted of rowdy pictures of their many encounters with well hung black men; in a lot of these pictures there would be no sign of a condom.
It seems a lot of these middle-aged couples get the impression that they’re somehow immune to STD’s, that’s something Suzy and I noticed a while back; although this isn’t a trait that is exclusive to the Great White Hunter, might I add.

It really shouldn’t surprise me how much in demand black men are in Florida. I lived there for over a year and encountered many women, of all different races.
I never had any problem attracting women during my stay there, especially when word got around that I was British, everyone I spoke to was fascinated by my accent; some people were even confused. They found it hard to believe that I could be both Black and British! As far as they were concerned there weren’t any black people outside of America or Africa. At first I found this ignorance amusing but after a while it annoyed me.

While living in Florida I worked with school children in summer schemes so I would often encounter middle aged, married white women as they came to collect their kids at the end of the day.
Initially, I would try and avoid any type of conversation with the mothers of these kids. I would wave from a distance and send the kids on their way.
Yet again as time went by, people became intrigued by the accent. Now these mothers were no longer waving from a distance in the safe compound of their cars, they were marching up to me determined to engage with me in conversation.
At first, it was merely a fascination with the accent then slowly but surely a small number of the mothers began to flirt outrageously with me.
I couldn’t believe my luck. Attractive all-American women were coming on to me. This was surreal.
Out of the small group of women, only one had the courage to actually proposition me. As tempted as I was, I made it clear that it would be unethical for us to embark on a sexual affair. I pointed out if her husband were to find out and they later split or divorced it would be hard for me to look her daughter in the eye knowing I was to blame for breaking up her home.
She reluctantly agreed with me, although it still didn’t stop her grabbing my arse at every given opportunity.

As the Summer scheme came to an end I began to regret not actually taking opportunity of the offer, this woman was extremely attractive to say the least, but at the same time, viewing the bigger picture, I’m proud of myself for showing restraint.
Looking back at that point in time in my life it holds relevance to what I’m witnessing on scene now.
As long as these so-called clean-cut folk think that they’re not dealing with stereotypical niggers, it’s all good!

Browsing through an adult site, there was one profile in particular that didn’t make me chuckle at all, in fact I was quite offended when I stumbled upon it.
The profile belonged to a Miami based couple,”Diamonds666″.
At first they came across as perfectly pleasant, stating their interests and what not, such as travelling, skiing, sailing, over night boat trips to the everglades etc; the lives of the rich hey?
They then go on to mention what they hope to find:

Erotic encounters and maybe friendship, who knows? We want to hear from men of all races as long as you have a full head of hair and no facial hair.
Men should be in shape but not too bulky as we see that as a turn off.

So far they come across as a lovely, wealthy couple, it would be hard to take offence at anything they said so far. They continue:

We have many fetishes and if you don’t meet the criteria given, don’t bother getting in touch. Please respect our wishes!
Clean-cut, super hung dominant black bulls, (no dreads, thugs, gang, hip-hop or prison tats) those who love to take a white woman in front of her husband, come on! What are you all waiting for? Don’t be shy!
We also desire couples that enjoy the cuckhold lifestyle and women that love to be gangbanged by big black cocks in a safe environment.

Excuse me? What the fuck do they mean by:
( no dreads, thugs, gang, hip-hop or prison tats)?

Are they trying to imply that any black man that isn’t accustomed to their life style is nothing more than a walking stereotype?
As a teenager I was hardly a paragon of virtue but that doesn’t mean I fall under every stereotype made available to me.
They said previously in their profile that men of all races were welcome as long as they had a full head of hair and none on their faces; why did she never specify the do’s and don’ts for all the other races? Is it not possible for a white man to be a thug? Have they never heard of a white gang member? (I guess they never saw that movie, Gangs of New York huh?)

As for the Hip-hop statement, how dumb is that? I’m sure a large proportion of the black men they meet listen to rap music but they just don’t tell them when they arrive. It is possible for Negroes to go a whole day without listening to Snoop Dog, believe it or not.
As for the prison tattoos, I shouldn’t even have to justify that shit. Is it okay for the white men they meet to have prison tats? They didn’t mention that did they?
By the way, the last time I checked, dreadlocks qualify as a full head of hair.
It’s funny how they have this desire to meet black men but yet they create all these foolish obstacles for these ‘niggers’ to jump over.
There are many civilised, cultivated, well-mannered, intelligent and successful black men all over the world, there’s no need for them to highlight the negatives in order to find a productive black man.
They could have left it at clean-cut; we would have got the message. The message they managed to convey, ultimately, was one of great prejudice.
It is one thing to be pursued by Great White Hunters, but to be totally disrespected so openly, well, that is a joke. At least the other hunters have some kind of tact. This couple is just blatantly rude.
Unfortunately, I doubt the brothas in Miami will take heed, instead they’ll just go out and buy the most expensive suit they can afford in order to appear clean-cut. Anything for pussy hey? It’s a crying shame! I’m pretty sure most of the black men have congregated at South Beach, Florida chanting:


With that type of mentality they’ll need those predatory hunters to keep their floundering egos afloat.

Dexter on Game

Having been on the scene for a while now, I’ve come to realise that the majority of feminists have a point when they claim men think with their dicks!.
It amazes me to see how far a man will go to get in between a set of thighs.
The lies they tell and games that men play are ridiculous. Maybe I’m being harsh on my fellow brethren.
I’m no James Bond 007 agent but I’ve always had a girl or two in my life, so I have no idea what its like to scramble for pussy.
It wasn’t always like that though.

I was ridiculed by girls for quite sometime.It wasn’t until my first vacation in Florida that I lost my virginity. I was 14 years old at the time. She was a cute 15 year old Latino girl with curves to die for.
Our first time wasn’t great but the next two visits to her house while her parents were out, gave me the chance to improve.
I arrived back in good old London after two months with an air of confidence I didn’t have before. It was clear for others to see.

The rest of my teens would see me transform from a nice cuddly character to a ladies man with an unpredictable temper. I was no longer passive and walking away from confrontation… I was handling foes with a lethal combination of verbal abuse and violence. This seemed to enhance my reputation with the local girls. It seemed girls really did like bad boys after all!
As said before, I was no gangster, but just like every game of Chinese whispers, the truth becomes distorted. I didn’t ever start trouble but if it came my way I dealt with it promptly! As they say: you should never bring beef to a butcher!

The older guys I hung out with at the time were very much gangsters, not exactly Scarface, but well feared. How we became friends in the first place is a blur, but for some reason Donell and Richie had great respect for me. They taught me all about GAME :the games that men and women play with each other.
They taught me how to get a girl into bed and keep her wanting more with minimal effort but most importantly how to master the games that women play.
Women are the masters of manipulation, but they found it hard to manipulate me. I was taught thoroughly; not so much with words but with what I saw with my own eyes.The number of times I witnessed Donell and Richie mistreat women was a joke. To my astonishment these mistreated women would always come crawling back, begging to spend more time with these dudes.
Most men don’t have these astonishing powers.
Because they lie!

The best way to get what you want is to be honest. Never tell a blatant lie, if worst comes to worst you may have to bend the truth, but never fabricate a story.
This way you never have anything to hide. The old cliché  ‘The truth shall set you free,’ really applies here. If she approaches you about your sleeping with another woman, it’s none of her business. You are not a couple, after all. She shouldn’t have agreed to those booty call terms in the first place. The responsibility is placed squarely at her feet.
Now if you lie and claim she’s the only one you are seeing then you’ve already fucked up. You now have something to hide and have to keep telling more lies to cover up for silly stories that don’t make sense after a while.
Believe it or not, honesty is indeed the best policy, no matter how blunt or brutal it may appear..
My approach was slightly different. It wasn’t in me to be blatantly cruel, although I sometimes had my moments. On the whole, I was honest but fair.
I would never treat a girl like a ‘hoe’, no matter how forward she was. This approach wasn’t premeditated! It was just my way of being. .
For some reason it worked a treat. Word got around that I was this dangerous man with a gentle side.

Now I had all the girls around the way interested. They all came to the assumption that my dangerous side would give them street credibility, not to mention they would feel safe in my company. All women want to feel safe.
My ‘so called’ soft side was much in demand. They wanted a man to treat them with respect, in other words they wanted a gentleman.

It’s odd because even to this day women who chat to me think I’m different. Like I’m special or something just because I hold open doors, apologise, or ask permission to use the bathroom in their home.
That didn’t make me special, that was just my having manners. I was raised well, plain and simple.
It made me wonder what kind of dudes these women were messing with prior to meeting me.

I’ve heard the ridiculous term gentle thug thrown about a few times, how silly is that expression? But if I’m honest I guess that it best describes me.

You have no idea how much I hate the fact that Ja Rule and I share something in common…Damn!

Suzy on Game

I know I’m going to sound like a giddy teen in love here, and I apologise in advance for its soppy resonance, but I have to admit that Dexter has taught me so much about life in such a short space of time. What I first thought was harshness and judgmental sexism, I soon came to realise, through bitter life lessons, was his application of his knowledge of Game. Ultimately, he was being caring by trying to stop me making a fool of myself.

Let me explain: When I first met Dexter I thought I could fuck like a man. Why not? These were the ‘naughties’ after all, women were no longer imprisoned by society’s taboos, feminism had set us all free! Magazines like Cosmopolitan and teen mags like Sugar were extolling the virtues of liberated sexuality for women. Women could be sexually aggressive, we didn’t have to wait for Prince Charming to come knocking at our door, we could go out and knock on his door and his brother’s if we wanted to. Contraception had set us free from the fear of pregnancy and every smart woman carried condoms to protect against disease. We fucked who we liked, played as hard as men without consequence. This was the basic idea.

If women were free to go out there and indulge in the ‘zipless fuck’ as extolled by Erica Jongh, why were there so many unhappy, unfulfilled, emotionally unstable women out there? These women weren’t stupid, many women of this ilk were incredibly intelligent and highly educated. But still these same women were finding themselves at the mercy of men. Why should this be? Somehow these women, myself included at that point in time, were not finding this liberated lifestyle as easy as they thought.
I saw one man regularly. He was smart, kind, mature and good looking. I would call him up when I needed sex. We chatted, fucked and shared mutually respectful times; two adults having adult fun. I presumed he held me in fairly high regard and saw me as an intelligent, modern woman. I was soon to be taught a hard lesson never to presume.
I was out at a nightclub dancing to my favourite tunes when I saw a familiar face walk into the club. It was Freddie, my regular fuck buddy! He saw me, I smiled and expected him to walk over to me and say hello. After all we had shared such intimate times together and had chatted over many meaningful subjects late into the night. Instead of smiling or walking over to me he looked straight through me and walked right past me to greet a large group of people on the other side of the room. He had caught my eye, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen me. It was then that it dawned on me that maybe things weren’t as I thought they were. .Freddie didn’t see me as a modern intelligent feminist. He saw me as pussy and easy pussy at that. So much for liberation.

He was game playing by pretending to take an interest in me personally, in order to keep me fucking him. By engaging in what I perceived were deep conversations, he had led me to believe that he was more than just a fuck.

The one fundamental thing this experience taught me, was that it made no difference how liberated a woman may be, she cannot change the thoughts that are in men’s heads. When she thinks she is being free spirited and independent, fucking multiple men, the men are thinking that she is cheap and nasty. There are men out there who will reinforce this idea in order to keep her fucking:
“Oh baby you are so smart and free thinking, don’t ever let a man try and change you, stay the free spirit that you are! You suck the best dick aaargggh….”
..but would they tell their partners to be like this? I don’t think so! This was an example of pure game!

Before I met Dexter I had no problem with the concept of women having gangbangs if that is what they wanted to explore. Now he had filled me in on what was really going on in men’s heads, I wasn’t so sure I felt so comfortable about them. It is no coincidence that women who attend gangbangs, are never the partners of any the participants. Very few men would feel good about seeing their partner being thought of as a piece of meat, and I would seriously question the validity of the relationship of those that did.

Was it possible for a woman to ever get it right? Could a woman indulge her sexual needs without making herself vulnerable to judgment and sacrificing respect? I asked Dexter this question and he explained how it could be done.

As was with men game players, the first rule of thumb for women game players was honesty. Firstly if women were to be successful at this game they needed to be honest with themselves in three areas, and ask if they really were looking for just sex, a relationship or just even looking for attention.

Dexter related to me the numerous occasions he had witnessed women cheating on their boyfriends just in order to gain attention. The fantasy of having two men fighting over one woman was far more attractive than the reality of the situation. Women think that having men fighting over them proves their man’s love for them when what really is happening is that the men are fighting to save face, a man’s pride is at stake here.
Ladies, if your man isn’t giving you enough attention, rather than cheat, be honest. Don’t threaten him, just let him know that you no longer intend to be exclusive and that he can no longer have any demands.
If there is no commitment you can do as you please. He may be more than happy with a “no strings attached” arrangement.
If he isn’t and wants to walk away, what have you really lost? You weren’t satisfied from the start.
So that was attention seeking. Now for no strings sex or becoming a fuck buddy.

This is not as easy as it first appears for a woman to achieve, as a woman’s natural tendency is to seek out ‘bonding’ and form relationships with her sexual partners. I had ruminated over this situation once before and had posted an open letter on the Internet:

F*ckbuddies…you know, the modern way of no strings attached sex. In this liberated age of women being equal to men and all that, there is a growing trend for women to find themselves in a trap of their own making .Once they are there , there is no way out . 
Let me explain.
Liberated woman meets liberated man. He is horny. So is she. He doesn’t judge her for being sexually liberated and he’s just horny. So they agree to be f*ckbuddies.. And meet regularly for hot and steamy sessions of nsa sex. They are both single , neither are looking for commitment, so where’s the problem you may ask. 
Well, here’s the rub.. 
Its all good as long as the woman doesn’t develop feelings for the man. But guess what? Most women , given repeated meetings of intimacy with the same person naturally gravitate to emotional responses towards them . Its the way nature intended us to be .Its not wrong, its not weak , its just how it sometimes is. It is most women’s default setting. 
So what happens then?
Often the woman will ask the man for more. For strings. For commitment and relationship. And more often than not the man will turn her down. And he has every right to do so. Why should he change this perfect arrangement of no strings sex for one of commitment and relationship (which takes hard work). The sex is good. He has a ‘girlfriend’ experience of sex without the hassle of girlfriend . Who can blame the man for not wanting the hassle?
Then the result is the girl is left in a no win situation. If she wants to continue seeing the dude , she has to be content with just having sex with him but risk feeling used, as she has developed feelings for him. He could dump her at any time once a relationship (with girlfriend material)comes along. She can withdraw the sex and see if he still sticks around.. chances are he wont . And who can blame him? After all, strings are not what he signed up for. 
So .. what I am saying here is, girls be careful. Make sure that if you are going to embark in a f*ckbuddy relationship that you can guarantee not to develop feelings for the man. Cos if you do, you have only yourself to blame if he doesn’t agree to change the arrangement. Be careful what you wish for. 
A man doesn’t usually enter a relationship easily . He needs something to strive for . Don’t make the sex easy. Why work for it, if you can get it for free? Am I being a traitor to the feminist cause ? I don’t think so. I am seeing so many women being hurt by decisions they have made for themselves. I would just like to see women open their eyes to the reality of life and love and all of its complexities. 
Sisters, respect yourselves and others will respect you back. Your body is a gift to give that is worth so much. Make sure you give it in the right spirit. 

”Fuck buddy”status could be successfully achieved as long as the woman stuck to certain basic rules . The most crucial being clear cut boundaries, as Dexter explains:

“ If you truly are a strong woman, you don’t need a man to define you, you can do bad things all by your self. You don’t need a man for that A man doesn’t always improve your quality of life, especially if the only thing he’s good for is sex every now and then.
If sex is what you are after, if you can honestly separate your emotions from the physical act, get the sex then kick him out, only call him when you want sex. He’ll come running… trust me! Why settle down with him and allow him to bring unneeded drama? Because he’s good in bed? Come on!.
If you’re going to play the game then make sure you get only what you need. There should be no hidden extras, from either party.
If you require more than one lover then be smart and keep the number of men down, there’s no need to go crazy and try and prove you can do it like the men. Is that really something to strive for? You don’t want your business out for everyone to see, remember you can’t control what judgements people could make of you, so find out the best lovers and stick to them. Most men are shit in bed! I know women will agree with me on that front, so is it really worth you losing your self respect in pursuit of multiple, can’t be guaranteed, sexual experiences? I don’t think so. So, be selective, find the best fucks and stay emotionally distant. As for the men, it’s fine if they know of each other, but make sure they don’t know each other. You don’t want to give the men bragging rights over you.

Something that women really don’t think about is that men talk, the last thing you want is every man in town calling your phone. Never respond to a booty call, they are the result of the man bragging about his prowess with you and needing to back up his claims. If you want sex, call him.
Make sure you are firm and in charge, you’re the one with the pussy ladies, you have total control believe it or not.”

Very few women manage to get the fuck buddy thing right. It takes a very disciplined state of being (or a very busy lifestyle) to be a woman who can successfully achieve true player status. Dexter and I had come across one such woman in our many meets.
She worked in media, was absolutely no-nonsense. She met us for drinks very soon after we contacted her, and we were meeting to play a week later. She knew what she wanted, we had fun playing together and when she had had enough she dismissed us politely but brusquely saying she had a dinner engagement to go to. We knew she had enjoyed the time with us as her seriously engorged pussy bore testament, multiple orgasms do not lie, but she had had her fun and was moving on. We never heard from her again. For us this was the perfect meet, and she was a perfect example of a woman ahead of the game.

So that is how to be ahead of your game, ladies. Be honest with yourself, identify what you are really looking for, if a relationship is what you are after, then be careful of not falling into the fuck buddy trap. Being aware of game should give you tools to maintain your relationship…

One aspect of game worth mentioning here, is the paragraph principle. This is the natural tendency of men to hear what they want to hear when a woman answers a question that he has posed. A woman may give him a sentence in reply but the man’s intention will embroider and embellish the response so it turns into an entire paragraph that supports the man’s wishes. That sounds complicated, so let me simplify it with a classic example. How many times have you heard women say,” I don’t understand why (my ex /the man who I’m friends with but don’t fancy/the man in the office) wont take no for an answer? He keeps calling my phone even though he knows I’ve got a boyfriend.”.?
.The ‘pest’ is an opportunist, he is trying to see his chances of having some time with the woman. So he calls and says:
“Hi there, fancy going out for a drink sometime?”

She replies:

“Come on now, you know I’m attached”
What the man reads into this sentence is thus:

Come on now, you know I’m attached ( I’m still interested but I’m a bit tied up at the moment with this boyfriend. Check back later to see if I’ve got rid of him or fancy cheating on him. Of course I want to fuck you. )

Note that at no point in the conversation does the woman say NO. I’m not interested.

Clearly the woman thinks that this is implied in what she says and so is redundant. Unfortunately this is not the case so she is surprised to receive endless opportunistic calls from him until she eventually loses her temper and accidentally makes it clear that she isn’t interested in fucking the man, and there is no chance of it ever happening EVER.

Ladies simplify your communication with men. Be aware of the paragraph principle.

I was thankful that Dexter was such a good human being. With all his extensive knowledge of Game, if he had been a nasty character to begin with, heaven knows the trail of destruction he could have left in his wake.

I had met Dexter’s sisters on a few occasions. It was quite clear that Dexter had taught them well. I was struck by how strong and confident and no-nonsense these women were, no man was ever going to be able to penetrate their ‘game proofed exteriors.’ I wished I’d had a big brother like Dexter when I was a little girl. It would have saved me so much time and heartache.

Ladies, open your eyes to game playing It’s out there, all around you. Listen to your big brothers when they tell you how men are. Be wise, be happy, make yourself acquainted with the rules so you can choose whether to play the game or not.

Any big brothers reading this, rather than spying on or intimidating potential men in your baby sister’s life make sure you teach her what she needs to know about men so that she can make her own informed choices.

{August 18, 2011}   Looking back to go forward

A girl with her possible boyfriend.

Image via Wikipedia

Hello again diary.
I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching.  Dex and I have been having a few arguments just lately. Nothing we can’t resolve but to make sense of it all I’ve had to go back, right back into my past to confront my demons to understand my present behaviour. All therapists agree that writing down stuff is a good way to sort out our head, so I suppose that you will have to suffice as my therapist right now. Hope you don’t mind. But here goes…

You might say I’ve had an interesting past. For years I couldn’t answer the question: ‘When did you lose your virginity?’ and that’s because I honestly couldn’t work it out. That part of my life was definitely foggy. Dexter often comments to me that I tell many versions of stories and that he has a hard time working out the truth. It’s taken him time to understand that it’s not deliberate on my part. I really believe that the things I tell him are the truth. The fact is that when that stuff happens, I genuinely don’t know what the real truth is, so I try and logically work out what the truth may have been from the fragments of memory left over.  Does that make any sense at all?
Gosh, I can’t help feeling that I’m sounding a bit crazy right now.
But diary, you can’t judge me so I am safe to continue.
It could have been John, my friend’s brother who I was seeing at the time.
I was 13 and he was in the 6th form. Highly inappropriate, you might say. And you’d be right to say that. The truth is, I didn’t even find him that attractive. At that age, all that mattered to me was that he was a boy and he found me attractive. Just being desired was enough. His age just made it all the better.
I felt so grown up.

So the beginning of my transition from girl to woman began with John or was it David? It really is hard to know. Who came first: the schoolboy or the paedophile? Why does my memory blur so?

John was my first proper boyfriend. I was a freshman in high school; young, innocent, albeit with raging hormones, and keen to be accepted into the exciting new environment. My classmate, Cassie, said her brother fancied me and would I be his date for the Graduation Dance? Oh boy. I didn’t have to be asked twice. This was an opportunity not to be overlooked. Of course I went and he got to second base in his mates flash MG with me on the way home. So we started on our little relationship. I pretended to love him because I needed to look cool and I wanted, nay needed, to be in love. The funny thing is, if you pretend for long enough you start to believe in the lie. So there was I, thirteen and in love with a seventeen year old boyfriend and all was well.

It was important for me to be cool you see; because I was a good girl. I couldn’t help it could I? I was one of those quiet, well-behaved girls at school who just gets on with her work. I was a biddable daughter, a pleaser, always reasonable, always relied upon to do the right thing. I was teachers pet and a guaranteed prize-winner on prize giving night. I needed to get out of this goody -two-shoes prison that I had constructed around me. I was fed up of being the good girl. I wanted to be bad. Little did I know how bad I would eventually become.

Alright diary, let me get back to the story.
So I was with John, we were just regular kids playing at love, going to the cinema, hanging out together, kissing and cuddling and the occasional grope, nothing more.
Then one Saturday afternoon my mum dropped me off with a group of my girl friends to go and see Heidi at the cinema matinee. John didn’t want to come. I didn’t blame him. Heidi was hardly teen flick material.

Now let me explain about my mother. She meant well. She just tried a little too hard to protect me. Deep down, I think she was afraid of my burgeoning sexuality as her own high sex drive had adversely affected her life and made her make some wrong choices. It made her afraid for my safety. So I wasn’t allowed to be comfortably sexual. My hormones were surging through my system making me think and feel bad thoughts. It was dirty; it was to be avoided at all costs. Nice girls like me didn’t do that. So sex was ignored, outlawed, vilified, became Suzy’s enemy number one. She didn’t realise that she was as ineffectual as King Canute trying to hold back the tide. Unbeknownst to her, I had been masturbating furiously to my dad’s not so carefully hidden soft porn collection from the tender age of eight. I looked forward to their trips to the supermarket so I could be alone with the huge pile of dirty magazines and put my right index finger and fertile imagination
to some use.
All mum’s protective behaviour, while well intentioned, had a dangerous side effect: it made me naïve. There I was, a horny, nubile innocent thrust into the big bad world of grown ups. I was looking for opportunity to break out of my squeaky clean prison cell and be bad. Surely that was a recipe for disaster.

So, there was pigtailed Heidi gambolling across the daisy strewn Alps on the cinema screen. There was I, lying back in the plush cinema chair, long blonde hair trailing over the back of the seat, aching for some stranger to touch it.
My wish was to be granted.
Before long I was no longer concentrating on the screen, but closed my eyes in sheer bliss as an unknown pair of hands expertly caressed my hair. I tingled down to my toes. Oh that felt even better than masturbating!
I wanted more and I got it.
When the lights finally went up, I looked across at the man who had had his hands under my bra. I hadn’t even bothered to open my eyes when he had moved from behind me to sitting next to me. Somehow my not knowing who he was made the thrill more intense, naughtier. I was able to sink into my well-rehearsed sexual masturbatory fantasy world.

I was pleasantly surprised at the man sitting next to me. He was very much more handsome than John. And goodness me, he was not a boy either: I metaphorically patted myself on the back.
I had gone and bagged myself a real man.

Now this was it. I was cool. This was irrefutable proof. This man must think I was much older than my years. He must have thought that I was really sexy and grown up. Was I going to tell him I was only thirteen? I wasn’t going to spoil the moment. He probably wouldn’t notice.
David Jones, thirty six years old, became my boyfriend number two. But I didn’t tell John. I didn’t see the point. I just felt even cooler; I was two timing my boyfriend with a man. At last I had real credibility.

He would pick me up from school in his souped-up car everyday. The word would go around the playground: ‘Suzy’s boyfriend’s here!’ and I would totter off, in a cloak and high heels of cool, admired by my peers.
I had done it. I was officially cool!
I hoped John didn’t know though.
Every day my new man and I would drive to the beach nearby my house, just not near enough to be noticed by my mother or neighbours. I made some excuse of an extra curricular activity at school to explain my tardiness. I became an expert liar.
We would sit in the beach car park, reclining in the front seats and kiss and fumble. He never got past first base though. He wouldn’t disrespect me like that. My David loved me. He wasn’t crass like the boys at school. He knew how to treat a lady. He would buy me ice cream and chewing gum and tell me how he loved me. Oh I felt so grown up.

Then one day, a few months later, he took a detour on the way home. Instead of going to the beach, he took a right turn and headed up to a mountain drive. He explained that he needed to talk to me. I started to feel funny. Was that nervousness causing the butterflies or excitement? I wasn’t quite sure. We pulled up in a parking space at a deserted picnic spot. He held me gently and whispered that he had to go away to the army. He loved me and would miss me when he was gone. I started to panic. I didn’t want him to leave me- not now! He explained that he had to go on a training camp and would write to me every day. Before he left he wanted to give me something special.
I grinned in expectation. I looked around in anticipation for the gift; maybe it was one of those teddy bears that said I love you on it. I liked those.
Instead he reclined my seat as far as it would go. He climbed over the gear stick and crammed his body into the foot well between my trembling thighs.
What was he doing?
He then started to sweat and tugged my panties aside. I froze.
What was he doing?
He pushed his face greedily between my thighs muttering over and over again:
‘I just want to make you happy. I just want to make you happy.’
How did this thing he was doing to me equate to happiness? Ouch it hurt!
Whatever he was doing felt like nasty pinching, sucking and biting. It certainly didn’t feel good, or right. For the first time, I felt scared.
Why was my love acting like this?
He got up, face all red from his efforts, opened the car door, dragged me over to a large boulder , pressed me up against it , and with a single grunt he penetrated me. Blood trickled down my thighs. I had become a woman.

If only my mother had thought to tell me about paedophiles.
Maybe I would’ve been able to see through the thin veneer of teenage longing for romance and acceptance.
Maybe I could have recognised his grooming techniques.
Maybe I could have seen David Jones for the paedophile rapist that he was. But instead, I was thirteen and hopelessly infatuated with a man who had just raped me.
I even had a pet name for the weapon: Torty.
He taught me to kiss Torty discreetly on the beach so that people didn’t see.
I became proud of my ability to make Torty happy. I loved the way Torty would stand up proudly when he saw me. His love for me was irrefutable.

Around this time, John and I embarked on a full sexual relationship.
I can only surmise that this must’ve been the time when David was away. We had access to an older brother’s mate’s flat nearly, complete with a king-size bed and alcohol. Whoo hoo! When the flat wasn’t an option, we made do with al fresco; there was always a quiet place in some bushes.
I used to chuckle at how my mother thought I had suddenly developed an interest in nature. If only she knew. Now at last, I felt bad. But oh so good!

Well diary, that’s how it all started.
Odd thing was, it took me till recently to recognise that what happened with David was rape. Somehow my head didn’t want to allow it. It wasn’t to be the only time I was raped either. But I will tell you about that another time. We shall leave things there for now.

I’ve recently been making a connection between my first sexual traumatic experience, and my tendency to want to please or perform during sex. I’ve had to face that I have been hardwired to respond differently to sexual partners than other women who haven’t been through abuse. I realise that the only way to change this is, firstly to be aware; very aware. I also realise that this has to extend to anyone who has a vested interest in understanding me and my behaviour, Dexter, for instance.
So that’s why I’ve deemed it essential that Dexter knows all about my past.  Between you and him, I hope to be able to dispense with my demons and sort this shit out.
As I said earlier, there is more but I’m feeling worn out now. I’ll tell you the rest some other time hey?

{August 18, 2011}   Mr Shy Guy

A Trust 120 SpaceCam webcam

Image via Wikipedia

Isn’t it wonderful when you see two people in love?  Dexter and Suzy clicked on receive cam icon on their computer screen and smiled at the loving couple that were looking back at them from their web cam. This couple had potential it seemed.

Suzy and Dexter’s profile attracted lots of attention. It seemed there were scores of people who wanted to meet a young black man and a mature, Latino ‘squirty’ woman. They were inundated with invitations to meet people from all over the UK and indeed the world. But very few people who had messaged them met their criteria. Ideally, they were looking for interracial couples where the man was black or black couples as Suzy’s sexual preference (clearly) was for black men. The majority of responses were from white couples, ever hoping that they would somehow find a loophole to fit the brief. One of the more common trite replies they got was.
“Oh I’m not a black man but I’ve got a n***er dick.”
As if preference was about penis size based on an urban myth! (Although Suzy was lucky as Dexter reinforced the stereotype nicely, thanks!) Suzy’s preference was much more sophisticated than that. It would take more that just a large penis to seduce Suzy.
Suzy and Dexter had embarked on the scene as a full swap* couple as they hadn’t even considered that there were any other options available to them. It was all too new to set too many boundaries. How could they know what they didn’t want to do until they had actually done it? This whole new adventure was meant to be about expanding their horizons, not limiting them. So if Suzy was going to be prepared to have full sex with another man, it was important for her (and for Dexter) for it to be with a man she was attracted to.

Suzy and Dexter looked back at the computer screen and considered if this couple would meet their criteria. Yes, they were an interracial couple. First obstacle was overcome. The lady was an attractive, bubbly brunette. Nicely curvaceous, both Dexter and Suzy preferred a woman to have a womanly figure. Yes, both Dexter and Suzy could definitely find her attractive. She seemed lovely too, extremely chatty and open minded. She even spoke of how she had a dream of opening a brothel. An unusual enterprise they thought, but mused that she would make quite a comely Madame. Her man didn’t appear much on the screen. All they could make out of him was a shoulder that ‘Madame’ was leaning on .She seemed so in love with this man. Dexter and Suzy found that knowledge comforting. She spoke of how he was shy as a person; that they were not married but he lived with her and they had been together for five years in blissful co-habitation. She joked that she loved him nearly as much as her dog, and with that she got up to take her dog for a walk. It was clear from her puppy dog eyes when she looked at Shy Guy that she loved him far more than her canine companion. Dexter left the room to make a cup of tea. Suzy continued to chat on cam with Shy Guy.

Can a person ever truly know what their partner is really like? It appeared to Suzy that Shy Guy had metamorphosed into Sly Guy. Was this really the same man that ‘Madame’ had spoken of so highly as being the faithful, shy, respectful, committed, stay-in–the–background type of man? Here he was, at the keyboard, proposing that he and Suzy should meet, just the two of them. This man was not shy in the slightest! Suzy was taken aback at his advances and was shocked at how he had taken the slightest opportunity of his woman not being present to proposition her. It was puzzling. Suzy thought the scene was about being honest to your partner about your sexual attraction for others. This man had thrown deceit into the mix. Suzy retorted with what she thought was a reasonable question.
“How would that be fair on Dexter and your partner?”
Of course this was meant to be a rhetorical question. What Suzy thought she had projected by saying this, is:
“I’m shocked by your attempt at deceit. Take others feelings into consideration. Of course I don’t want to meet you alone!”
Unfortunately, because of the paragraph principle* * that most men (and indeed some women!) operate under, what he heard was
“I haven’t discounted that idea, but I am uncomfortable with it at the moment .Try again later.”

Dexter returned with the tea. Shy Guy, clearly panicked by Dexter’s arrival, assumed his off camera position. Suzy recounted her tale. They watched as ‘Madame’ returned from walking her second love of her life, blissfully unaware of her Shy Guy’s true colours. Dexter and Suzy were left feeling strangely burdened.
What was the etiquette in these situations? Should they tell her? Of course they shouldn’t. She would never believe them. Dopamine*** wouldn’t allow it

The following evening, ‘Madame’ appeared on IM again and requested a cam-to-cam session. Suzy and Dexter obliged. After all, they did find her company very pleasant .She was so warm and open. This time she was on her own. She chatted away for a long time exchanging pleasantries and making Suzy and Dexter laugh with her wit and charm. She liked a few glasses of wine it seemed, and grew steadily more and more intoxicated and relaxed as the night wore on. Suzy and Dexter were flattered by ‘Madame’s’ compliments and it wasn’t long before ‘things’ started to look up for Suzy, and for Madame who clearly was enjoying watching while Suzy gave Dexter slow sensual head on cam. This was fun. Madame typed away, barking out more and more excited instructions, telling them just how much she was enjoying the show and looking forward to turning cyber into reality. Dexter finished off by pounding Suzy enthusiastically from behind to the delight of Madame who masturbated frenetically until they all exploded in mutual ecstasy.
All in all, it was a rather pleasant way to spend an evening at home.

Suzy and Dexter received an email from ‘Madame’ the following day.
Sorry, we won’t be able to meet. I told my man I was on cam with you two last night and he got very upset with me. Really, really sorry. Xx

Talk about double standards! So they weren’t ever going to meet because Mr Shy Guy was upset at his woman engaging in a spot of cyber sex with Dexter and Suzy? So what about the very real life sex Shy Guy was trying to arrange with Suzy? ‘Madame’ was honest with her man, she played by the rules and this was her reward? I wonder if her email would have been any different if she had known her Shy Guy was really Sly Guy in disguise.

*Full swap: term in which swinging partners consent to have full penetrative sex with another couple. Suits fully straight couples where the intention is m/f interaction; either in the same room in front of their partner or separate rooms.  Oral./touching /kissing optional extras. As opposed to
Soft swap : boundaries usually established beforehand by the couples involved. Can range from same room own partner sex (voyeuristic) to bi women play only while men watch, to oral and manual in what ever combination but no penetrative male/female sex except with own partners.

**Paragraph principle: this is the main difference in the way men hear women’s reactions to propositions. A man will fill in the gaps between the words to suit his own interests if the woman isn’t clearly stating her intention.

***Dopamine: a chemical secreted by the brain when the person is in a state of arousal/infatuation. This chemical has two functions, 1) it makes us feel giddy and ‘in love’ helping the initial bonding, mating process, but 2) also stops us from being able to see the bigger picture, giving us emotional tunnel vision, leaving the infatuated victim with a clear case of the heart ruling the head.

{August 16, 2011}   On Webcams and competition

Strip poker

Image via Wikipedia


Oh a web cam is a useful invention. For a few pounds you can plug this gadget into your computer and have oh so much fun! For the exhibitionists of this world (Suzy included at this point) it gave a great opportunity to show off to the whole cyber community. There was a certain thrill at first, a certain egotistical boost of having anonymous messages appearing on screen telling Suzy and Dexter how attractive and appealing they were. This thrill is a thin veneer though; it wears very dull over time.
With those compliments come expectation, and soon turn to insult when unfulfilled.
Not all people are impatient, however. Some others are smart and realise that forging a friendship can pay back dividends. Good things come to those that wait.
Introducing Mr Catchup.
He was a regular viewer on the Suzy and Dexter show. He became a familiar handle on the screen. He was part of a swinging couple from London. With his patience came results. Over time, trust was established and Mr Catchup had access to private chats on cam over IM once Dexter had established that they were a genuine couple. Mr Catchup was always keen to get naked, but Suzy stayed modest. There was a certain inhibition that came from seeing who was watching you especially when their arousal was clear. From being just a fan, Mr Catchup started to act besotted. Although Suzy was uncomfortable with this knowledge, she felt safe, as Dexter was there to support her. Mr Catchup’s partner always seemed to be sleeping (this is often an excuse used by single men pretending to have partners, but not in his case as they could see her sleeping.) Suzy and Dexter wondered why she never came to chat.
A date was set to meet.
The couples met in a busy London pub, not a good choice it turned out, and as the music was so loud they struggled to hear each other above the din. They decided to retire to Mr Catchup’s nearby apartment to continue the conversation.
The subject came around to experience on scene.
Suzy spoke of how she had had two years of experience when she had first met Dexter and introduced him into the lifestyle He was initially reticent and understandably apprehensive about it, but soon grew to be comfortable with the idea. After all, Dexter was by no means a virgin before meeting Suzy; he was quite the ladies man. Performing in front of an audience just took a bit of adjusting to. And although Suzy was older than him, he made up for that by being precociously mature for his years. Dexter was also the type of man who accepts a person for who they are when he meets them. If he had had a problem with Suzy being a swinger, he wouldn’t have stuck around. Suzy loved his non-judgemental attitude.

Mr Catchup listened attentively while Suzy told her tale. He watched her transfixed as she stroked Dexter’s arm and snuggled up close. Mr Catchup’s lady was the talkative one now from being someone so quiet on cam, she had turned out to have quite a tale to tell. She told of threesomes, foursomes, outdoor romps and mile high club adventures. She was quite the naughty lady it appeared. How deceptive can appearances be! It looked like butter wouldn’t melt in this ladies mouth. She had had more than butter in that pretty mouth of hers. As Suzy and Dexter listened open mouthed to her tale, they sensed a growing unease coming from Mr Catchup After all; none of these lurid tales involved him. And he was determined to catch up, as he told them, quite unashamedly. He related how he had a fixed agenda for the next three years in which he had to accomplish all those things that she had experienced, prior to meeting him. Did his woman have a choice? This made Dexter and Suzy feel most uncomfortable, but as they were new to the scene they had no fixed expectations. It was clear Mr Catchup and his partner expected some kind of live show from Suzy and Dexter, coyly asking if they would play a game of strip poker. They agreed to this, but the cards never materialised. Things grew more uncomfortable until Suzy and Dexter decided to call it a day in the wee small hours and slipped away into the waiting cab.
Snuggling up in bed with Dexter, a text message tone cut through the sleepy dawn air. Suzy opened it and it read:
Thanks for a lovely evening. You made us so horny we had to touch ourselves before we could get to sleep. Xx

Dexter and Suzy wondered why they didn’t touch each other. Suzy sleepily reached for Dexter’s stiffening member and slipped it inside her moist softness as they drifted off to sleep.

November 10th
Mood:  amused

Well, our first meet didn’t exactly turn out the way we anticipated! Don’t know whether it was a mistake to agree to meet or not. I think if anything, we met out of curiosity, as it was our first meeting as a couple.
I suppose, if I’m honest, I had no intention of playing with Mr Catch-up. He was far too hairy for me and brown (Asian), not black which doesn’t really do it for me. His lady, well she was a lovely person, but just didn’t ring my bell, if you know what I mean .The chemistry just wasn’t there for me, nor for Dexter. I must admit that I inwardly raised a few eyebrows at the lady’s stories, they were quite outrageous and it was hard to look at her and imagine her in those situations. A more unlikely minx you couldn’t wish to find.
The trouble was, they clearly liked us. Well HE did, at any rate. It turned out after talking to her, that she had been very upset with him for spending his nights chatting on webcam with us. It wasn’t just tiredness that was making her sleep, but aggravation. I don’t blame her really. If Dexter had spent that much time drooling over another woman on webcam night after night, I would be pissed too! Jealousy doesn’t just evaporate because you have chosen to live the swinging lifestyle. Common decency and common sense should prevail really, and I’d say sensitivity to your partner’s feelings is paramount.
It’s flattering to know that someone finds you attractive. It is all too easy to get carried away and not realise that you may be hurting either your partner or their partner in the process. It is bit of a minefield, this swinging malarkey; you have to be careful where you step.
I must admit though, it was a lot of fun teasing him. Both Dexter and I could see how gagging he was to see some sex. We weren’t about to give it up, and just chatted away like we do. Poor love. They’ve sent us an email asking us to dinner and back to theirs for a sex board game session. We politely declined. It’s not fair to tease forever. (And to be honest, it gets boring too!)

November 20th
Hello dear diary. It’s me again. I hope you don’t mind me sharing my innermost thoughts with you. It helps me sort my head out when it’s feeling a bit fuzzy. It seems like there are a lot of people who write their diaries online in the form of blogs. This blog phenomenon has really taken off. I’ve been browsing blogs on the swinger site that we belong to and have encountered a few really personal ones. I’m not so sure it’s a good idea to expose your innermost thoughts and feelings to the whole cyber community, although it retains a certain voyeuristic fascination for the reader. There’s something odd about reading deeply personal comments of people you will never know or meet. As for you, diary, I’ve never shared with you what lurks in Suzy’s past. One day if I’m feeling generous, I may share it with you. But for now, I’ll tell you what’s lined up  for Suzy’s future.

We messaged this London couple called Marlon and Vivienne, on the site we belong to.  We didn’t expect a reply really, but we got one very quickly. At first we were a bit dubious about them as the profile read more like a single man’s profile. The only pictures were those of a very good looking young black man, they looked liked professional shots. We emailed one another and a photo of Vivienne was sent. It wasn’t a professional shot like Marlon’s (he is an aspiring model) but was a fuzzy shot taken on a web cam. It’s clearly a genuine picture. She looks attractive, blonde with pretty blue eyes. We’ve set a date to meet. I’ll let you know how it goes.

December 2nd
Mood: comme- ci comme ca

Hello diary. It’s me again. I know you’ve been waiting patiently to find out how it went with Marlon and Vivienne. Where shall I begin?
We met in a club for a drink. I must learn to choose more suitable venues. It was not the best place to meet strangers. The music was too loud and there were not enough places to sit. Any way I digress. We spotted them as soon as we walked in the door of the club. She was looking pretty and confident, as if she had been meeting strangers for drinks all her life. He, on the other hand, was a totally different kettle of fish. He looked terrified. For all his height and good looks, this man looked more like a small boy about to confront the school bully. We greeted each other and got in the drinks. Dexter spoke to Marlon and tried to calm him down. This dude was shaking. Were we that intimidating? One drink later, we decided to decamp and find another more suitable place to chat. We ended up at a nearby gay bar. It was friendly and had free seats and the music wasn’t too loud. I was proud to be in the company of two West Indian men who were open minded enough to be able to thumb their noses at the homophobic stereotype that follows them. And we all know that black men do go down, don’t we girls?
Vivienne was lovely. While not exactly my perfect choice of woman physically, she had a charm and elegance that came from her being French. She also had a really naughty twinkle in her eye that I was keen to explore further. The DJ started playing cheesy 80s disco classics, I couldn’t resist the urge to get up and bop around on the dance floor. Vivienne joined me and we left the boys to chat football while us girls strutted our diva stuff and flirted with each other.
Our men were clearly causing a bit of a stir in the bar. Viv and I both giggled at the fact that all the gay men in the room were lusting after our very straight handsome men. They’d better watch out in the men’s room.
We got chatting and Vivienne told me how much she loved her man and that she had come over from France to live with him. They had recently moved in together and she had agreed to experiment sexually with him as part of a loving couple. Not unlike us really, I thought. Things were looking positive. We ambled back over to the table where our men were still talking football. It turns out that Marlon used to play semi-professionally, but now was working as a model. That explained his profile pictures.
The bar was closing and Marlon invited us back to their flat. A bus ride and a long walk up a steep hill later (I carried Vivienne piggy back all the way up the hill as her high heels were killing her) we were welcomed into their home.

It was a cold evening, and the heating was not working too well. Dexter sat with his back against the radiator trying to keep the chill off of his back. Marlon sat with his laptop on his knee as they chatted about the scene and whom they had met. Marlon made me feel very uncomfortable as he brazenly showed us messages he had received from single women wanting to meet him (as a single man). Viv was making tea, and she didn’t seem too bothered by Marlon’s insensitivity. Oh well, different strokes for different folks, I suppose.  I couldn’t help wondering if he had planned to meet these women or indeed, if he had already. The chat started to become a little stilted and I could sense Marlon’s growing unease. Dexter in comparison was as cool as a cucumber. He was cold, in fact. He was behaving as if he had done this all his life! I wondered why he wasn’t nervous like I was. Viv came in with the tea and I decided it was time to start off the proceedings. So I kissed her. It wasn’t quite as I expected. She had the strangest way of kissing, like a kitten, or a lizard, she had a pointed flicking tongue that darted in and out of my mouth. I’m more of a plunger type kisser, so I’m not sure if our styles matched! But, still it had the boys’ attention.
I looked around as I ventured under Viv’s top to discover some saucy French underwear, and saw Marlon grinning away like a kid in a candy shop. Well, we fumbled a bit, and ended up naked. I ended up with my head buried in Viv’s pussy and my arse sticking up in the air. Dex couldn’t resist himself and plunged his fingers into my pussy. Marlon asked Dex if he could touch too, and he asked my permission as well. That was respectful. Or maybe he was just scared; perhaps a bit of both. He got to see the squirt. That was clearly on the agenda for him that night.
It was at that point that things took a bit of a turn. We ended up swapping for the first time. Viv went down on Dexter and Marlon went to work on my pussy with his hands. That’s when I first felt it. It was an odd sort of feeling. Like a vague echo that I couldn’t quite hear. Even though Dexter was right there in front of me, I felt terribly alone. I didn’t mind watching Viv give Dexter head.

But I did mind the noises he was making. They were my noises

It’s hard to explain it. Every time I heard him moan, my heart lurched. I couldn’t concentrate on what Marlon was doing to me. In fact, I felt absolutely nothing at all. I’m ashamed to say that I pretended to enjoy what he was doing to me because I knew how anxious he was about the whole meeting. Here I was with a drop dead gorgeous young man, with my wonderful partner and a sexy woman next to me, and all I wanted to do was go home. I knew Dexter and I would have to talk about this.
We had set out to full swap. We enjoyed the socialising with this couple. We found them both very attractive. They were in a secure relationship .So why didn’t it feel right? Both Dexter and Marlon realised that the little man downstairs wasn’t going to stand to attention so they both aborted their missions. Dexter and I watched as Marlon and Vivienne attempted to fuck. It just wasn’t happening. There comes a certain time when it’s not worth struggling and you have to accept defeat. We had reached that point and we said our goodbyes and caught a cab home. We parted on friendly terms and spoke of escorting them to a swingers club sometime in the future.

This meeting has made me consider many things. The main thing being, I don’t think I want to be fucked by other men. I find that an odd concept. Anyone who knew me a few months ago would laugh if I had told him or her that. I had a reputation on the scene as a greedy girl; the more cocks the merrier.
Was this me being a pleaser? Am I deciding this to make Dexter feel more at ease? No, I don’t think that is the case. I certainly hope it isn’t. I just don’t feel the way I used to. A girl’s allowed to change her mind isn’t she? All I know is that I didn’t like that feeling of being alone that hit me when we swapped. I just wanted to take Dexter home and cuddle.


et cetera