Claire is an incredible sight, and she agreed to become my wife, but what she didn't agree to was only having sex with the same person for the rest of her life. She made it clear she didn't intend to function like that. She wasn't 'built that way,' she said. "You may become my husband, but you won't be my only lover," she stated emphatically.
Sex with her is fantastic, we get along wonderfully, and she is a feast for the eyes. It was hard for me to accept her terms, to agree to give her the freedom to be sexual with other people. I had not been raised that way, had never thought of marriage in those terms, and I had never known anyone who had been in such a lifestyle.
Over the next week I spent a lot of time thinking about her conditions, whether I could do such a thing, whether I could handle being a husband whose wife had sex with other men. I spent a great deal of energy researching the subject, reading about men who did live that way, listening to interviews with men who did and accepted their lives and even favored it. I also spent time fantasizing about the situation, imagining her involved with other guys, seeing it in my mind and trying to figure out how I would handle it.
I asked her to talk to me about what she expected and wanted from me, what she envisioned our marriage to be like. Would she expect to have a dating life, to bring men home with her, or did she think we would just have separate lives? She told me many of the men in polyamorous relationships were friends with their wife's lovers, that they build friendships and bonds with those men.
"I have a suggestion," she said. "Why don't you see what it is like? Why not try it once and see if you can handle it? I will bring a friend to the house and you can watch me with him and see what you think. Maybe watching me with someone will let you know if you can manage it. What do you think?"
It sounded crazy. To watch her have sex with someone would probably blow my mind. It was not something I had ever thought of before. I could not imagine seeing the woman I love being fucked by someone else. What was strange was that we agreed on most everything else: politics, food, what we liked to do with our leisure time, and what we valued in our lives. It just was that we thought differently about sex.
"You like porn, right?" she asked, trying to build her case. I did, and I thought for a minute about the similarities. I did like watching other people having sex. That is what porn is. That is true. But did I want to watch the woman I love having sex with other people? Would that be like seeing two people fuck I didn't know?
I did love her and wanted to spend my life with her. There was no denying that. So the question was, did I love her enough to accept her terms, and could I if I even wanted to? I finally decided I needed to give it a try. I had to find out, and her suggestion was one possible way to see. The problem, of course, was that I could find out the hard way that I could not handle it. That was the risk. If I decided to do as she suggested, I could find out I was not able to handle it and suffer the loss, cause myself pain, but I would suffer the loss no matter what if she would not alter her position and I would lose her anyway.
Our wedding was on hold, and whether it ever came about depended completely on me, whether I could accept her terms, whether I could have her be sexual with others, and I didn't actually know if she meant only men. She had told me about things she had done in her early life, although the stories seemed unbelievable. They were just way out of my experience level. Some of the stories challenged my beliefs. It wasn't that I though she made them up, but I just didn't know people did those things. Orgies, swinging, key parties just seemed to be fantasy.
I said I would try what she had suggested. I would watch her with someone and see how I reacted. I doubted that I could, but I promised to give it a try at least.
"Think of it as porn," she suggested. "Like you're watching a sex tape. You enjoy those, so just pretend it is a video of people having sex."
We had been having sex for six months and it was fantastic, better than I ever thought possible, sex like I had dreamed about for years. She is simply a wonderful sex partner, and not being with her is frightening. I am almost tempted to accept her terms out of desperation. However, if I could not handle it, things could turn really badly really quick.
I sucked it up, agreed to try, and picked a day for the big test. Claire contacted a friend, explained to him what we were doing, and arranged for him to meet us at our house.
I was really nervous, scared to death, but incredibly excited. I felt like a freshman going to his first dance with the queen of the prom and having to dance in front of the crowd on television in my underwear. In other words I was terrified.
When he knocked at the door my heart almost stopped and I felt dizzy. He was far too good looking for my tastes. I wanted him to be ugly and not at all desirable, but then if he was she wouldn't want to have sex with him, and I guess that was the idea.
They kissed at the door and my heart sank, except that I had to admit that it was one sexy fucking kiss. The other thing I had to admit was that I was as turned on as if I was the one about to be fucking her.
I sat and watched as he undressed her, taking off one item at a time, starting with her blouse, then her skirt, her panties and bra, and finally helping her slip out of her stockings, which I was surprised she had worn. I guess she wanted him to be able to take off a lot of things.
By the time she was nude, and he'd shed his clothes, I was so excited I was literally shaking with anticipation. He slowly kissed every part of her body and finished by spending a great deal of time with her lovely mouth. Even before he finished kissing her I realized I had a full blown erection and a heart rate of about 200.
