We've all been there, everyone, I believe even you!
Everyone has had the thought about having sex with someone other than the one they are with.
A stranger at a coffee shop, or a colleague in your office, or someone on the crosswalk as you're driving your car, BUT you had the fleeting fantasy of doing the deed with someone besides your partner, even if you didn't act on it; admit, you had the thought.
No harm no foul, it was just the thought.
Ok, you may not have acted on it then, but what if you were presented the opportunity after your partner and you had been considering trying an open relationship; and after much discussion were leaning towards trying out the lifestyle.
Now does that change your actions? Would you?
Maybe you haven't been in a position where you had to make that decision.
I was.
We were at Arianna and Gaston Tremblay's; he's a colleague of my husband Quinton. We were just introduced to Leon and Brenda, friends of our host's.
Both couples were a few years older than us, and we were engaged in the basic small talk while sipping wine.
My eyes were distracted by a young fellow who looked totally out of place at this party, everyone was elegantly dressed, suits and gowns.
He was so much younger than everyone else, at least 10 years my junior, and most likely 20 years younger than most. He appeared to be alone; scruffy looking, several days growth of a scraggly whiskers, brown hair poking out under a ball cap worn backwards, unbuttoned red and black plaid shirt, a grey t-shirt underneath. Levis, the ones that someone abused with a razor blade before they put them on the shelf for sale and dirty old cowboy boots.
He moved amongst the guests with an air of confidence, as if he belonged here more than everyone else as he meandered through the house, yet no one seemed to notice him except me. He was several feet away, his sultry brown eyes had a sadness, and the moment we made optical contact, for some reason they seemed to penetrate my inner soul, a shiver went down my spine.
That intrigued me, he brushed past me, our shoulders grazed, but he seemed totally focused on where he was heading.
My nostrils filled with an interesting mixture of male sweat and an intoxicating aroma of expensive cologne. He had an unusual aura of sexuality; there was some sort of an attraction toward him I couldn't understand.
What was the attraction? He was not even close to the clean-cut businessman sort of person I am normally drawn toward; maybe it was because he was different, he stood out, maybe the bad boy, forbidden fruit, wild animal lust had stirred my emotions.
When I glanced behind me to watch him walk, he had stopped, looking back, smiling and I swear his eyes were undressing me, normally that would annoy me, but for some reason, my mouth curled into a grin, I was aroused at this youngster's interest in a 44-year-old mother of two.
I couldn't identify what I was feeling, it was new, strange, something I'd never experienced. I tightened my grip on Quinton's arm.
My eyes followed him as he exited into another area of the house.
I whispered to Quinton, kissing his cheek, "I'm gonna go find a bathroom," he nodded with a smile and wink.
I didn't see an option when I looked around, but surely the staircase would lead to bedrooms and bathroom.
My left hand sliding along the railway my right holding my gown up, so I don't trop on it as I ascended the curved stairs. The music and noise of guest laughter being left behind.
As I opened the bathroom door and reached for the light switch, a hand grabbed mine before I flipped the light on. I was pushed from behind, a hand around my neck, the door closed, I heard the lock click. My mouth went dry, I tried to scream, but nothing came out, my heart pounding so hard I thought I'd explode.
Rough, strong fingers tightened around my neck; I was pushed to the sink as my dress was lifted. I looked into the mirror to see who was behind me, but it was too dark.
I recognized the scent; it was that young man's.
His attempt to rip my panties off failed, but the pain it caused on my thigh was quickly ignored, fear coursed through my veins, he yanked them down. His left hand grasped my hair and his elbow in the small of my back forced me to the cold countertop, my face against the faucet.
"Spread 'em, you're gonna get fucked and you won't say a word."
I felt a hard cock against my ass crack.
I was about to be forced into sex; and I couldn't scream.
Trembling, I parted my legs, thinking it best I don't resist; his cockhead rubbed between my labia, as his body pressed against my ass. It was happening like slow motion, he pulled back dragging his member along my flaps, his grip on my hair tugging, hurting my roots, he put his hand around to adjust his cockhead to align himself for entry. I feared it would hurt as I had no lubrication without foreplay. I bit my lip anticipated, fearing the agonizing pain he's about to inflict down there.
I think every woman at some point in life fantasizes about being taken against their will, forced to have sex.
It was happening to me, no fantasy, this was real, I struggled to breathe, my mind spinning like a tornado, my heart was pounding so hard I thought my chest would explode, my fists clenched the counter.
I can't explain what happened, but the instant I felt his hard cock separate my labia, I got aroused. Maybe it was the rape fantasy, I don't know, but this unexpected, animalistic behavior excited me more than I expected, my fear gave way, and I desired him to take me, to violate me.
He thrust, there was no pain, he slid in easily my reactionary sexual secretions happened in the nick of time.
His dick was a bit longer than Quintin's, but his girth was much less; I began to enjoy his erratic, animalistic, wild pounding. I was intensely aroused and quickly escalated toward an orgasm; faster than I anticipated; he unloaded, adding to my delight.
Then he pulled out still squirting, I felt the warm strings hit my ass cheeks run down my crack and another dribble down my thigh. Gawd I was so close to cumming.
He released my throat; I heard him zip up.
"We're not done, I'll be seeing you again, and I'll fuck you then too." And as fast as he arrived, he was gone.
I sat on the toilet panting, catching my breath, my mind still reeling while rationally realizing what just transpired. I sat quietly, actually feeling sexual ecstasy, I finished my orgasm that he started with my fingers, but it wasn't really satisfying, it didn't quell the lust, the burning desire for fucking orgasm.
My mind confused, with mixed emotions, guilt, shame, pleasure.
I had to admit, I did enjoy being forced; but I could easily rationally justify my extra marital affair with the young man to the fact I didn't initiate the encounter or consent to it.
I primped my hair and dress, my most predominate emotion was guilt, but I felt such pleasure, quite sexually aroused, I returned to Quinton; do I tell him?
He was still engaged in deep conversation with the 2 couples as if I never left. My returning did seem to distract them, and soon thereafter the 2 couples headed off in separate directions.
Quintin took my arm, and we got libation refills, then went outside to the patio and found a couple chairs to privately chat. I was pondering telling him about my excursion now or wait.
Quintin leaned close to me, spoke softly holding my hand, "Leon and Brenda met Arianna and Gaston on a wife-sharing website, chatted a couple weeks, then they attended a couple sex sharing swinger functions together."
Quintin paused, picked up his wine glass, peered over his glass as he sipped, gauging my reaction. I smiled I liked the idea, and swiftly decided now would not be the time to tell him what happened in the bathroom.
Quintin smiled broadly, "Tiff, we were invited to this party tonight to discuss participating in a swinger lifestyle, an open marriage."
I let the words sink in as I took a slow, long drink, giving myself time to let the thought really sink in; was he asking me if I wanted to participate tonight, right now? I took another drink; my mind was unsure but damn it my body certainly wanted to.
As if trying to convince me he went on, "Well, it's not a new concept, we've had conversations on the subject in the past. I thought we concluded we were willing to try."
I took his hand, kissed his cheek, "we were both inclined to experimenting the lifestyle, we just never took initiative and pursued it." I smiled excitedly, "now it's found us." I nodded, "I'm willing if you're ready." I chugged my wine.
"I guess my main objection would be... do we want to proceed with friends, more specifically your coworker Gaston, or should we find someone who may not be awkward being around after, like working with every day?"
We took some time and discussed our true feelings, weighed the pros and cons. Our previously discussions had us both leaning towards participating.
Now it is decision time; the proverbial time to 'shit or get off the pot.' In this case it's time to fuck with someone else or go home.
We unanimously agreed, it would be wise to not rush into it and not join them tonight; that we'd attend a future function to see how we felt at the eleventh hour, with time to mentally prepare, not just jump in.
We explained our decision to the Tremblay's, thanked them for the evening and we went home and fucked like we did on our honeymoon.
The Tremblay's contacted us sooner than we anticipated there was a lifestyle party planned at their house this Friday. This time it would be a smaller gathering, but the 3 other couples attending were expecting to exchange wives; and were well aware we are undecided.
Friday, we were preparing to go to Arianna and Gaston's once again.
I got my hair done at a salon, I bought a sexy new dress, I felt like a porn star, as I twisted to view myself in my dressing mirror.
I was extremely excited and equally as horny anticipating tonight's salacious escapades.
