PC decided to come out Friday night because Saturday I had plans with my husband. For reasons that go beyond the logical and come more from the gut I really wanted to see him before my Adult Theatre adventure. Because time is somewhat limited we usually like to lightly plan our evening in advance – if we actually end up doing what we set out to do is a whole other things altogether – and such conversation are pleasurable in themselves. Rarrr.
For the past couple of weeks he has been taking great delight in teasing me mercilessly about snuggling/cuddling. The concept makes my body ache, I am not a touchy feely type and I had actually watched a couple of Youtube videos to get a better idea of how one should go about such a thing and why. I am not sure if John Stamos and College Humor helped ease my discomfort or made it worse. I know he enjoys making me uncomfortable and I really don’t mind because he does so in a fun non malicious way – I like my boundaries tested just as I enjoy testing others – besides is cuddling really the worst thing that a man could ask of a woman? No. Dinner and cuddling it is!
I was not about to rush myself to get ready but in fact use the time to my advantage and disarm my opponent so I got myself into the shower. Had he arrived while I was in the shower he would have been invited to join me, had he arrived while I was getting myself ready he would be invited to watch. Fortunately I am the kind of woman that prefers to wear a towel and air dry, so when he arrived I was only somewhat ready. I thought of asking him to apply my body lotion, but it is my own concoction and I didn’t want him to get himself oily – he was looking fantastic as always – but he did following me into the bedroom as I got dressed. It was nice that I didn’t even need to invite him to do so.
I had already put my clothing out on the bed; he laid himself down comfortably to just watch but soon came over to lick at my nipples as I did up my jeans. Yeah that whole disarm your opponent thing is great when one has an opponent that is not equally as gifted in the art of war. I was resolved; as he kissed me, pinched my nipples between his fingers I counted a few seconds then reached for my bra and put it on. He laughed and continued to assault me with kisses and holding me up against him. I am a woman dammit, not made of stone so naturally I stopped to enjoy him – I slipped my hand in his pants pocket and could feel his cock between my fingers – ding time is up! I grabbed my shirt and put that on. Sorry but there is no way I am going back to sitting in a pile of wet desire through a meal, tonight was his turn.
He laid himself back down on the bed looking rather smug and comfortable when I took my place on top of him, fully clothed, to kiss him. My intention was simply to inspire a hard on that I could greet before going out to dinner leaving HIM the one ‘distracted’ through dinner. I somehow managed to make my own situation worse; I could feel his hard cock through my jeans as I lightly rubbed myself up against it bringing myself close to an orgasm. My brain justified some wiggle room, it was easy I told myself and soon you will both be at the restaurant so go ahead… just a little.
I undid his belt and unzipped his pants and unfolded the material to reveal a wonderful gift; his hard cock, trying to jump out from under his briefs. I put my lips over the material and began to lightly breath over his hard on, then licking at the material so that at least he would get a slight, though not accurate, idea of what it is I have to go through sitting in moist underpants.
I gave the cotton covered cock one more good wet lick, smiled and got myself up ‘okay lets go to dinner now!’ but my self proclaimed victory was short lived. He then pulled down his briefs and relieved himself of his pants, exposing his hard on that once again was standing to attention demanding to be acknowledged. Okay just one taste, for a few minutes, I told myself as I kissed and licked his cock hello.
I pathetically protested once again that we should get going to dinner as I stood there encouraging him like a puppy up off the bed – but it was to no avail, PC then took his cock in his own hand and began to stroke it as I would have. Bastard. I was drawn by some unknown force to take my place beside him, watching his fingers wrapped around his cock massaging himself. I might have kissed him a few times but my eyes were afraid to miss a moment of him masterfully getting himself off.
Watching and only watching was difficult, I had no choice but to lick at the precum when he hand receded backwards – I mean seriously was that not an invitation by the cock to do so? – and what did it matter, at this point I was pissed off that I live in a location where no one delivers food but no longer feeling hungry anyhow. My nose was inches away from his cock, at times I had to tell myself to pull back, take in the whole picture and I did. What a sight!
Watching a man, the way he treats his own cock, says a lot about how they are going to enjoy others doing it – we both have similar preferences, I do not like spitting, extreme gagging and slobber nor do I like pulling it as though I want it removed from his body – and as I watched him lightly abuse himself I felt comforted knowing that my own treatment of his cock was good.
I kissed his belly, I licked at his sweet spot, I lightly fondles his balls with my fingers and I kissed the top of his hip – both to encourage an orgasm and more action just inches away from my nose – as I fought the urge to take over (not that he would let me) and stroke him off myself. I am glad I didn’t however. I got my Silicone lubricant and applied a generous amount in the palm of my hand and asked him to stop. This was the only time he let me grab hold of him; his cock now hard in my hand as I applied the lube.
He picked up where he left off and I made sure to get myself in good view of the show, not only his cock but also his face. I let my fingers slide where they pleased as he kept stroking. He then came so nicely, his whole body was relaxed and on his face he looked happy. My curiosity took over – I licked at the cum on his cock and then took it in my mouth – though I wished I had more talent to fully clean him, I did not. I was rather proud of myself and still fully clothed; we managed to knock two things off the list. I was however left a wet mess and once again facing dinner sitting in a puddle of my own desire.
He took a phone call outside the restaurant and I decided what to order. The university students are back and we sat by the window where he had a good view of the gaggles of girls walking by. We had a lovely meal but the smell of his cologne was stuck in my nose, the taste of his cum in the back of my throat making my underpants stick to my pussy the whole time.
The weather was beautiful. We walked over to a café, laughed at the conversation some kids were having as they waked by. We sat outside and he let me finger Sheila: she is his new toy, a tablet I call her Sheila he calls her slut. The bathroom at the café was typical university old hippy urban collage: a picture of Frank Zappa on a toilet adorned the door. They had the toilet up a few steps, like a little stage. The walls were all painted with black chalkboard paint but alas I could not find any chalk. Big black hot pipes along the ceiling wrapped in vintage xmas lights made taking a piss somewhat difficult, but of course my brain thrives in such dark freak show tent type places.
‘You have to see that bathroom!’
‘I think we should have sex in that bathroom’
‘How do I take a picture of myself in the bathroom with Sheila?’
It’s just a bathroom but it has been ages since I was in Seattle and this felt a little like home. The students walked by, some in groups, some in pairs and some alone – you could hear music and laughter off in the distance, and for the first time I almost felt my age. Half of my life has been spent with this – either attending university or employed by one living in a university town; I also felt relieved, I certainly don’t miss it either because when the urge to plot against the student body hits you, you know it is time for a change. God was I ever that young? Was I ever that fucking… obnoxious? Who the fuck goes out to a bar in flip flops? What I enjoy the most about visiting the city is returning home to my little house in the middle of nowhere.
I made sure to make PC comfortable on the couch, I saw it in the cuddle video, so I got him a pillow and I put on Princess Bride. I wasn’t sure where to put what but took my place on the couch beside him; I laid myself down, put my head on his chest and put my hand under his and his free arm was on my backside. We laughed at the first few funny lines and shortly thereafter he was silent: and asleep. I sort of looked around and tried to move myself away – I really did have to pee- but when I moved my hand he grabbed on to it and rubbed my butt with his other hand.
Okay so this is what cuddling is, having to pee but being trapped by your lovers body parts! I decided to listen to his heart and declared it healthy and strong; one, two, three… no sounds of echo or inconsistent beating or blood flow. Lungs sound good and clear. God he has great hands, his whole hand covers mine… Now I really really have to pee… so I put one foot down on the floor and waited. I then moved the other leg off the couch, my head still on his chest and waited. Then I crawled back my hand from under his and I waited. Only my head left now but this position is really putting pressure on my bladder – fuck it, get up and go. Of course I took a moment to watch him sleep before I got myself comfortable again and fell asleep myself.
“so is cuddling code for I am sleepy leave me alone woman?” I teased him a little but actually I could not have asked for a better night. So there was no jumping up and down on him, and I was not going to be going to the adult theatre ‘used’ but I do actually enjoy him just as much out of bed as I do in and certainly the whole ‘intimacy’ thing is … nice. We both had other intentions with each other but I like how the evening developed on its own. I made coffee and he stayed till my husband got home from work, we all chatted a little and he left.
My Saturday morning started somewhat late and my first priority was to get things in order around the house. It was a lovely surprise to find PC online and available to chat with me throughout the day. In fact his conversation fulfilled something I wanted to happen the night before: PC and I didn’t have sex but the conversation was just as though we did. Strange…
A lot of couples will tell you that after involving other people or after a swinging event, there is a desire to re-enforce the couple’s bond with one another, everyone goes about doing this differently. I do not think that my desire to be with PC before I went out was different than that. PC does not fill a void within my marriage – he adds to my life – he is very important to me and I do care for him deeply. This of course is all from my perspective, the last thing I wanted to do was alienate him or not give him the opportunity to communicate what he was thinking and feeling. The best part of being polyamorous is feeling a sense of place and security within that relationship though it involves a number larger than two.
There was of course a sexually charged appeal to my desire of fucking PC before I went, it was kind of hot to think that although he would not be at the event with me he would certainly still be a part of it by having been inside me first. His conversation with me on Saturday was HOT, sexy and left me with great confidence that he is able to handle it – poly theory is great, doing it however is a whole other thing – but the way in which he was speaking to me also heightened my sexual desire. I think it would have been hot to talk about it with him the night before as we fucked, I think it would have been terribly hot to talk about it with him after the fact but most of all I was incredibly turned on by the idea of him still being around when all was said and done. He is okay with what I am doing and that is pretty freaking cool.
To involve him I asked him to choose my outfit – though he would not be presenting me at the event– I did want to include PC somehow. He chose a lovely 50’s inspired bellow the knee white skirt , black flower print, white blouse and white garter belt, no panties, and black flats in keeping with the style of the outfit. Not bad when a guy has some fashion sense. We said our goodbyes, he wished me fun and I was off to get ready.
My husband and I keep the before the game show realistic. I was excited from PC’s dirty talk and my husband’s interest in being active again. We both expect nothing but hope for the best and to give my husband some credit he is working with me – not your average run of the mill kind of girl – to try and ensure I have a good time. We do not fuck around before going out, even though I would have been plenty prepared for it, I was happy to hold onto my excitement for now in hopes of something later on.
I retrieved a handful of condoms only to find that they were flavoured except one and it was not my preferred brand – I then had to explain why he should not use a flavoured condom for vaginal but it is better than nothing – so a quick stop was needed. I believe in being prepared for anything and at no point in time am I risking my life, or my husbands, let alone PC’s for some fun in the dark.
And off we went into the dark night…