Nina, my wife, is 33 years old. Her skin has this gentle golden tone, and her curly hair, a shade of light chestnut that flirts with hints of auburn under the sun, makes her look like she just stepped out of a Renaissance painting. With her Afro-European heritage, she's got features that, as far as I'm concerned, border on pure perfection.
She's a woman with character, that's for sure. A certain je ne sais quoi about her means only the boldest or most confident men would dare approach her. Usually in Nike Airs instead of heels, but when she does slip those on, my entire universe comes to a halt.
And her smile... are there even words in the English language--hell, in any language--that can capture what that smile does to me? The first time I saw the corners of her lips pull up, those perfect dimples framing her mouth, I was totally hypnotized. A wave of warmth rolled from my chest all the way to my fingertips. That smile--playful, painted in bright red lipstick, covering full, inviting lips--it's the kind that just begs to be kissed.
And there's something about her, maybe the way her extreme femininity mixes with a touch of "masculine" strength. Years of working out have given her a solid, slightly square back and shoulders. Her face can sometimes look closed-off, shaped by experiences that weren't always bright and cheerful. In short, I love everything about this woman. I love her, just as she is.
Over the years, her smile has never stopped being a source of joy for me. Making my partners happy, helping them feel fulfilled, has always been important to me. And with Nina, it's no different--I want her to feel as amazing as possible, to have the freedom to thrive. There's no way to describe what it feels like when I see her peaceful, genuinely happy.
In the bedroom? We have our fun. Since the first time (which, let me tell you, took some patience), she's been a go-getter, and that's something I adore. We clicked pretty quickly. We were open about (some of) our fantasies early on, including the idea of a threesome with another man. But somehow, the right moment just never showed up. Our little explorations on those well-known swinger sites? Didn't really lead anywhere. There was always something that held us back or made us decide to put things off.
If I'm being honest with you, I've had fantasies that go well beyond a simple threesome. One of them is something called *candaulism*. It's kind of crazy, I know--imagining another man, his body, even his...well, everything, with the woman you love, even if it's just for a fleeting moment. There's a strange, undeniable allure to it, maybe fueled by curiosity or the pleasure of seeing your partner experience something new, something that brings her joy.
I don't have that ego that insists I must be the only one to bring her pleasure. And really, isn't that a little unrealistic? Why deny ourselves the sight of another man--a strong, solid, sizeable one--giving her a unique experience, one that's bound to be different, maybe even better in its own way?
I've found myself imagining different types of partners (older, younger, athletic, or not so much) who could give her pleasure right in front of me or maybe even without me there. I'll admit, these imagined men all have one thing in common: they're more...well, they're bigger than me, physically speaking.