Mmf A Female Perspective

Interestingly, the most common question I have received is from men, asking me, "I would love to watch my wife with someone else. How do I mention it?"

Chances are, your wife has already thought of it time to time. For us, it was the natural result of swing experiences. We were monogamous for sooooo long, we joked about swinging. I was extremely reluctant—it was the last thing on my mind—but my husband insisted. We ended up at a club in NY called Le Trapeze, which is a swing club, but has a standing rule—no means no. We went and had drinks and had a standing agreement to not participate no matter what. Over several years, we became avid swingers, but one thing always invariably happens: Men lose interest and the wives can't get enough. Women just suddenly feel so freaking free; it's like a finally found celebration of freedom. We can suddenly do what we want, with whom ever we want, and it's not only accepted, but encouraged. While we did do other couples, we just mutually decided it was fun to watch me.

There are rules: No kissing, for example. Swingers have other rules, some strange, but mouth kissing is usually not allowed. If one wife is on the pill and the other is fertile, both men wear condoms. It's not an AIDS thing, it's an "all things being equal" thing. If both wives are on the pill, the condoms come off after mutual agreement. No sex with unmarried couples; they don't have the same to lose.

Everything must be discussed in advance and agreed upon. Sometimes in graphic detail. Am I allowed to go down on another guy? Could he come in my mouth? Odd talking about, but there are rules, and if everyone follows them, no one gets hurt. That's what swinging is all about. No one gets hurt. It's not about humiliation. It's about sexual fulfillment and enjoyment, and this can manifest itself in many, many ways.

For many couples, oral sex is a no-no because it's so much more intimate than intercourse. For us, it's allowed. Does that mean I go around giving blow jobs to complete strangers? No. It does mean that I will meet some men in our travels and I will want to give them the ultimate present, of letting them come in my mouth. Women just meet men they want to taste sometimes, and nothing is going to change that.

I teach college at a four year university in New York, and am a very happy mother of two older boys. Does this mean my sexual appetite is dead?

For me, it's just thrilling to find a new partner, and to enjoy two men at once—the kissing, the hugging, the tenderness, and the extra set of lips. But it's a turn on for my husband, too, otherwise we wouldn't be doing it. He loves to see me caressing an erection that belongs to someone else, to watch another man get aroused by me. That puts me in control, and he fully enjoys knowing I excite other males.

*****

Another wonderful comment from a couple: "We love mmf threesomes more than anything, but choose bi-males because there's less risk of freaking out with male-to-male contact".

This is a great point, and it touches on several different issues: Are bi men better to experiment with, and is a mmf threesome an inherently bi form of sexual activity? To both, I have to say "no".

First, as a woman, I want to spend my time in bed with someone 100% man. It greatly disturbs me looking at a penis, stroking it, or suckling it, thinking it has been up another man's behind. It just completely grosses me out. No, I am not saying I think gays are bad, blah-blah-blah. I am saying I don't want a penis in me that has been in another man's ass. Sorry, it's just my personal taste, pun intended. I think most women agree with me on this. We're not into seeing two guys get it on, in the same way, shape and form men like to see two women get it on. Similarly, I can't stand piercings and tattoos and shaved crotches. I want to see a nice hard erection and I nice hairy set of balls hanging underneath. I don't like the clean look. It looks boyish, seems like a gay thing, whatever. Not for me.

The larger issue perhaps is this: Is a mmf threesome largely a bi form of sexual activity? No, not with two straight men. Does a man have to be gay to become sexually aroused in front of another man? No. Men are trained, early on, to not get erections in front of other men, even when it happens by pure circumstance. Men can't really control the erections they get. They can only control their orgasm to a smaller extent. Both are trigger responses. When the man is pumping in and out, the trigger is going to release and there's nothing he, or me, can do about it. You can be aroused by the way another man looks, his erection, the curve of his penis—it doesn't mean you want to have sex with him, kiss him, get married and adopt kids.

It takes a certain kind of open-minded male to get an erection in front of my husband, and to release himself in me while my husband is perched on the bed behind us watching the fellow stroke into me. This is where maturity sets in, and where a more experienced and confident man comes in.

Generally, younger men don't even pay attention, and come quickly as they can. Instead of basking with us after their release, they whip their pants on and leave. They may try to hold their legs together, so my husband can't see everything, or lock their feet together—that's their private way of ejaculating I guess, keeping the moment between me and them.

Older fellows are a bit more confident, because they are usually in the same boat. They've had these thoughts. So they will keep their legs spread, enjoy it while my husband holds my hand or suckles my breasts. Some will even allow my husband to caress their scrotum while we're fucking.

It is extremely erotic to have a cock in my mouth, and having someone enter me from the rear. Or to be on my back, missionary style, being fucked, while my husband sucks my breasts. Or to have both men suck a breast, while I hold them in each hand. What happens thereafter is up to you.

*****

AIDS—let's talk about it. Absent sex with an intravenous drug user—usually a very obvious choice to avoid—if you contract HIV it's going to be from another man who is either bi or had contact with a gay male. Please do not hit me back with all the politically correct nonsense, but HIV in America comes from gay or contact with gay. After 20 years it has not become a heterosexual disease. It simply hasn't occurred.

The risk of HIV among swingers is virtually nonexistent, and the reason is honesty. And we largely know when someone is dishonest. If you want to see dishonest, go to craigslist and read the personals. There's one married man after the next looking to experiment with another man. That is not what swinging is about. And that poor wife is the one going to contract something. There's a saying, "Swingers never cheat and cheaters never swing." And it's true! There's a lot of little secrets swingers use when dealing with single men, and I'm not going to say them here. There are flags: "38. Single." "42. Never married."

And, we always ask for a crotch shot, and if it's shaved, watch out.

Black men? They have their own phrase, "the down low."

I don't like condoms, and therefore we choose married men. Many of them cheat anyway, and they are as concerned about disease as we are. If the man is married and can prove it, condoms aren't required, but I make the choice. The only time we stray from this rule is when we're in the islands, and we have to make a case by case decision. Condoms do ruin the joy of sharing. Let's face it, the end result of all sex is the release of sperm. Personally, I just love it: the sight of it and the texture. I love rubbing it in my breasts, or feeling the come from two men drip out of me the rest of the day. It's the smell afterward that is especially intoxicating. Sperm has a different taste and different smell from man to man, and those differences become very obvious when it's the three of you locked in a stuffy hotel room or the back seat of a car. My husband has a very potent smell. And I swear, when we're laying there, and both men are done, there is semen all over: On the sheets, between my legs, maybe someone sprayed my breasts. The smell of sex in the room is just incredibly intoxicating, and the men have a grand old time trying to make a mess of me. That's the turn on—you feel like such a bad girl covered in so much sperm! And then you walk right past the little porter boy and sit at the restaurant table like nothing happened.

*****

Black men:

My next story will be on my involvement with black men. Personally, I prefer men from the Caribbean, but again, more on this later. I find an aggressiveness in American black men I don't particularly like, and I think it's attitude. Also, I rarely—rarely—see them bringing black women to swing parties. I have been told they sneer at white men with black women, and have a terrible double standard.

*****

The first time my husband went down on me after sex with a lover was with a young lad. I knew this kid had been eyeing me. He was cute! Long wavy blonde hair, tall and incredibly thin, and this kid was sexy. He was an exchange student I met at the university.

It was pouring outside, and my husband came to pick me up at the university. I asked this student, all of 20, who lived off campus, if he needed a ride. My husband new right away what I was up to when he swung by the college bus stop, and there I was, standing under an umbrella with a thin whispy blonde student. I sat in the back with him, while my husband looked at me in the rearview mirror, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth.

:Take a drive, hon," I said. Our code language.

Within a few minutes, I had this large uncircumsized penis out of his pants, working a thick foreskin over an extremely plump cockhead. It was BIG, and so tantalizing against his flat belly, and he had a mountain of thick fuzzy pubic hair. His scrotum was a beautiful pink covered in light blonde fur. I peeled that foreskin back and licked the slit, and tickled that little tiny sack of nerve endings about two inches south. I just held his cock in my mouth tickling his balls, feeling the sweet warmth in my mouth, and the small gentle throbs. A string of clear goo started to leak out and attach to his belly hair, and he started thrusting his hips up and down to get me going. His speed picked up, but I did want to enjoy this gentle moment. His testicles started to get tight in my hand, and I made the mistake of laying my warm hand on his abdomen instead. He started to moan, and I whispered, "Not so fast."

My husband parked the car in a nearby park, and I raised my knickers and climbed on that extremely hard erection. My husband had a grand view. I lowered myself and raised myself off his cock about 10 times so my husband could see everything, and I felt the goosebumbs start to rise on this kids arm's. He wasn't going to come that quickly! Not with me on top, anyway.

I switched over, climbed on my back, and spread my legs. This kid has his pants around his ankles and a turtle neck on, and we laughed when he tried to mount me. When he was able to flip over, his foreskin was peeled back, and his balls were extremely tight. He was ready! He completely ignored my husband, who now was wanking himself in the front seat. Instead, he slid in me and buried his face next to mine on the far side where John couldn't see him. He was breathing heavy and nibbling on my ear lobe, trying to turn a merciless little fuck into a genuine love making session. I had my hand on the small of his back, staring at my husband, watching this kid's skinny little ass pump away between my legs. Suddenly he stopped pumping, and I felt the fine hairs on the small of his back rise and cover with goosebumps, and his whole body stiffened. He almost bit hard into my shoulder trying to stifle a scream, as he pumped away all his stress of the day. I reached between us and massaged the muscle behind his scrotum, feeling it pump. I kept massaging it after he was done, and he finally fell, face first, into the seat, keeping his face still hidden.

As with all the younger men, he turned bright red, and avoided all eye contact with my husband. When he was finally done, he pulled out, a very large penis starting to retract, covered with my whiteish pre-ovulation discharge. He sat on the seat, still looking at me, and very embarrassingly commented on a small amount of sperm that oozed onto the leather where his penis met the seat.

"Don't worry."

It's weird, but they almost expect my hubby to get mad and holler! That poor kid just unloaded in me, and then got all embarrassed! But he did thank me, pulled up his pants and ran out of the car. There I was on my back in the back seat, knees parted Indian style, with a belly full of European semen. My husband cracked the window, and the cool breeze over my pussy felt incredible. I certainly wasn't shy, but the lad was. I kept my little package fully available for him to take one last look at, to see my little puss and the mess he made, to see if he wanted to make a second deposit, but he wouldn't. And if I had to bet, that poor lad hadn't emptied those balls since he arrived on our shores.

When he left, the rain continued to downpour and windows were terribly foggy.

My husband quickly climbed in back, and fingered me, feeling my wetness. When I felt the ooze start, I grabbed the back of his head, and pushed it downward. This was a new beginning for both of us. So often I wanted him to go down on me after he came, but he wouldn't—too messy. Wasn't in the mood. Just not into it. But the trick now was he hadn't come yet. Would he taste me after another man had me? This was exciting.

Hubby chuckled but never took his eyes off my oozing puss. Instead, he lowered himself, and gently lapped at my pussy like a kitty cat. I felt like I was in heaven. After a few minutes, he rose up to me, an entrail of perly come in his mustache, and bent over to kiss me. After a peck on the lips, we both opened our mouths as wide as we could and engaged a deep French kiss while we shared this boy's semen. It was just a spectacular day, and the first time my husband ever tasted me down there after a connection. It opened a whole new chapter of our love life. Oral sex is simply so much more intimate than intercourse, it gives me husband the opportunity to taste me and my lover, the aftermath of our liason, the sperm he gave me.

Three suddenly became one.

My husband climbed on me, we shared the taste with another kiss, and he added his own darling specimen in about two pumps.