My husband and I are committed and devoted to each other spiritually, emotionally, and physically. We have been together for a decade, married for years. We tell each other just about everything and there is no one I like hanging out with more than my husband. Our friends think we are sickening because we can’t keep our hands off of each other. We have a special space between us where our shared and individual sexuality lives and grows.
This space is so safe, so sacred, and so honest that it has given permission to the expression of innermost longings, fantasies, and daydreams. It’s a space of profound curiosity, acceptance, and non-judgment. It’s a place where we can ask for anything, share any whim, and tell the whole truth—even if it brings up a titillating sense of shame (why do I like being spanked so much? Is it a betrayal of feminism? Who knows… but in that space it’s just something to be explored and enjoyed). This deep security in the commitment and safety of our marriage has enabled awesome sexual exploration. And years into having really great sex just about every day, we often find ourselves saying (breathlessly): “Wow. That was new. DAYAMMM.”
And sometimes… together, deliberately, lovingly, excitedly… we let other people into that space. We’re solidly married, totally in love, and sometimes we have sex with other people. In short: we’re swingers.
Formerly A Very Good Girl
I have always been a Very Good Girl (until rather recently). My husband (a sexy devil with classic good looks, a muscular build, and a wicked sense of humor) cut a swath through college; he has had a LOT of sexual partners in his life. I was much more contained. I believed for a really long time that I wanted sex to be about love and love only, and I had trouble relating to the idea that sex could be an ephemeral expression of self where people come together for mutual pleasure without emotional entanglement. I have always been very uninhibited in bed and have always had a high sex drive, but before getting married to my husband, I had only had sex (vaginal intercourse to be exact, because it does seem important to be exact here) with three people. Two of these were in the context of very long-term, very committed relationships.
I have always wanted marriage to be a place where sexual fantasies came to be fulfilled, not die, and I knew my husband shared that philosophy when we married each other. We also made a vow to be honest with each other and keep our promises. We did not vow to physically forsake all others. We did vow to be guardians of each other’s bodies and spirits.
Finding A Unicorn
It didn’t come all at once. We were strictly monogamous for a long time. It wasn’t boredom that drove us to look outside. It was the opposite—exciting, adventurous sex, and the slow unfurling of secret desires that was begotten by the trust that grows over years of intimacy. I knew my husband dreamed of a threesome, and I started introducing that into fantasy play and dirty talk—telling him what was happening with me and another woman while we were together. It made him crazy—and crazy for me. I always felt like I should have been a little less serious when I was young and single. Then I started wondering how I could make the fantasy a reality. Instead of just rejecting the idea out of hand, I approached it with creative curiosity: I wonder in what circumstances I could feel comfortable making this fantasy a reality? That led to exploring some swinger podcasts and websites and tracking down a “unicorn” (a single woman who is into threesomes) who I thought was pretty and who I thought he would like. The two of us ladies started a conversation about how we would work together, what he likes, what she likes, what I like, what I thought I would be comfortable with.
She was experienced with threesomes (unicorns are in high demand) and enjoyed the idea of being a part of enhancing our relationship and opening us up to new sexual worlds with no emotional involvement. She was attracted to us as a couple, and it made her feel powerful. We planned to meet up, and went away for a weekend. The lead up made our bedroom an inferno of anticipation. We wanted our guest to feel extremely welcome and wanted by both of us—not like a sex toy in a two-person game.
Multiplying The Pleasure
The idea of my husband being attractive to someone else made him even more attractive to me. It made me really appreciate and want what I have. We met her during that weekend. Had drinks, then dinner. Saw a show. I was nervous going into it, but my husband was so excited, so nervous and vulnerable himself, and so concerned about me, that it all felt okay. We all promised that anyone could call it off at any moment, for any reason with no consequence.
After a great night of fun and laughs, when we finally made it back to our room, she and I had a quick consultation (accompanied by Champagne and peaches). I ran around a little adjusting lighting and stuff, we changed into some pretty lingerie, and then dove right in. Once the action started it was easier than I expected—and nicer than I anticipated to have more hands/lips/everything to please him. While neither that woman nor I is bisexual, we were comfortable playing a bit, and I was curious to see what it would be like to touch a woman (verdict: nice, but I’m fundamentally straight). Everyone took turns. It was all about all of us—and tag teaming to multiply the pleasure for each person in turn.
I was afraid I would feel jealous, but, weirdly, I didn’t. My husband’s love for me was so clear every time he looked over at me to make sure I was okay—reached out to grab my hand, found my lips for a special kiss. It was all just… okay. I had no doubts. We had hours of fun and good conversation. It was all very safe, protection-wise. My husband was in heaven, and loving me so much for being down with it all—and into it. When it was over we all went out for fish tacos then drove her back to her hotel in our rented convertible. She and I still email sometimes. I would describe our relationship as warm, and I think very fondly of her.
AND THEN THERE WERE FOUR
Going from rare threesomes to sleeping with another couple was an interesting leap. While threesomes are really nice, as I mentioned, I am fundamentally straight. So while I love the anticipation and build up, the team approach to pleasure, the unlikely camaraderie, and the feeling of being naughty, being with another woman is really my husband’s fantasy. Being a really great guy, and devoted to my pleasure, my husband has been eager to reciprocate. But the logistics around having a threesome with another guy were hard for me to imagine. First of all, I am finicky; attraction for me is more complex than it is for my husband (probably because sex and love have been intertwined in my consciousness for so long, and I never did have a lot of casual sex). Sexy for me is usually wrapped up in intellect, style, sense of humor, and emotional connection. A single guy who has that combination of qualities could feel threatening to my husband, to our marriage. And if we ever did find such a man, and my husband was miraculously okay with him, how would we even go about broaching the subject? It all seemed very unlikely.
I mentioned earlier that we had used a swinger community website to meet our lovely unicorns. Well, the one we belong to is sort of like Facebook. It’s sexy for sure, and it’s fundamentally about meeting people, but believe it or not, it doesn’t have a skeezy vibe. Most members are open-minded, sex-positive couples who are interested in having interesting conversations, being friends, and possibly hooking up if the chemistry is right. My husband and I started having fun together on that website, looking at pictures of cute couples, sending and receiving flirty messages, and exploring how it felt. The fact that we were interacting with other couples made it much easier.
One such conversation with a very adorable couple our age was particularly fun and they live in a city my husband was going to transit through for work. When we discovered that, we decided to move our conversation onto a chat app, which quickly became a playful maelstrom of flirtation, wit, hilarity, deep conversation, and, yes, some pictures. It was intricate. My husband and I would sit next to each other and give advice on how to flirt (“Tell her she has beautiful eyes!” “Affirm him, he just sent a picture of himself at the gym—he’s totally trying to show off”). I would flirt on my husband’s behalf, and brag about his skills. All of us would ooh and ahh if someone sent a selfie in which they looked particularly hot. We loved seeing this other couple be so into each other, making them feel wanted, and feeling wanted by them. We planned to meet (travel is necessary, as we have kids). We threw ourselves into intense workouts, chose outfits days in advance, bought new underthings, and again, our marriage bed heated up to boiling. The night of our date (sushi), we were BEYOND nervous, and so were they—even though they had more experience than us.
Practically speaking, the actual transition from dinner to sexy time in our suite was a lot like the threesome—but more awkward, because we were so very goofy and nervous. I hope we’ll be a little smoother next time. We sat on the couches and had wine and an impossibly embarrassing conversation about boundaries. The other wife and I went to the bathroom to change. We giggled and helped each other with hooks and decided that we would each start with our own husband and just see where it went from there. Her husband got some music going, while mine got out the condoms and put my vibrator near the bed. They talked a bit about upcoming travel while they waited for us. When we came out we just went straight to our husbands. Mine was sitting on the bed, with his shirt off, and I sort of hid myself in his arms and laughed about how surreal it was.
We started kissing and making out, and they made their way over to the bed too. Clothes started coming off. At some point, a hand reached out to touch me, and, like the threesome, once the action got going it flowed very organically. The principle of abundance from the threesome seemed to hold—with additional male energy making things extra hot for me. My husband and I took care to make eye contact, reconnect and kiss, whisper “I love you,” and check in to make sure everything was still okay. We all stopped at one point to have some dessert (cannoli) and champagne in bathrobes. They left with kisses at the door.
Since it was a weekend, the next day we did some touristy things together and found ourselves in bed with them again that night. It was great fun, and at the end of the weekend I was so happy to go home with the man I love—and only him. I’m not sure if we will see them again, given geography, but we would be totally comfortable running into each other at the grocery store and we’re solid Facebook friends.
We Still Love Pizza The Best
I have found it fun to have some of the energy of dating—without any of the fear of rejection. I already win—I get to go home with the best guy! I love coaching my husband on how to flirt, what to wear, and hearing him coach me. I love seeing him vulnerable and how much he cares about pleasing his partners. I love bragging about him to a potential partner, and hearing a woman talk about her husband in the same way. I love the sparring and wit and feeling irresistible. It was fun to give each other tips on how to please our respective husbands. I loved how protective of each other and loving the couple we hooked up with was. It’s great to see and experience some new techniques and different chemistry. Nobody we are with has any desire to have a relationship with anyone but their own spouse. We’re playing, but it’s edgy and naughty and forbidden, which makes it hot. And we are doing it together—no guilt or betrayal.
Swinging is not an all-the-time thing for us. It’s not a staple. We can take it or leave it. It’s a fun thing we do once in a while—like going out to a really incredible restaurant for a unique meal. But the truth is we still love pizza the best. And as awesome as our monogamish experiences have been, the best sex we have ever had is still with each other.
This post was previously published in April of 2016.