I have this fantasy, vivid and detailed. My friend who broke up with her husband last year was coming to town to visit family–she called me up to ask if she could have sex with my spouse.
She didn’t seem that nervous to ask–it was matter-of-fact. She told me she hadn’t been with anyone since breaking up with her husband. “I have some pent up desires and needs, and your spouse would be the perfect person to help me,” she’d say.
It makes sense–my spouse is a safe person who she’s known for many years, longer than I have. And we have community in common. Yes, my love would be the perfect person for her to do it with.
“Yeah, sounds good to me,” I’d say.
“Only once,” my friend specified.
“Great,” I said.
I felt comforted by my friend’s trustworthy kindness. Her brilliant creativity, curiosity, and good heartedness. I liked the idea that it would not be an ongoing thing. She hoped to have a partner soon; my spouse was to tide her over.
I asked my spouse. “My friend called. She wants to have sex with you. I told her that was fine with me.”
He had a surprised look on his face.
“Are you interested?” I asked.
Of course he was interested. “Yes,” he said, eagerly.
We smiled at each other, and I hugged him.
“Does that sound good to you?” he asked.
“Yes, perfect,” I said.
We kissed and had sex. His dick was hard right away, thinking about our friend wanting him enough to ask. We held each other and thought of him doing it with my friend, and how good that could be.
unplanned phone sex
Those two started talking often, planning what they would do together. It started as logistics and checking in about boundaries and health. Then their calls turned into phone sex, as they would both get horny, discussing their sex plans.
I was slightly annoyed, as phone sex wasn’t mentioned beforehand. But it made sense, that would happen organically. Of course they would get aroused and want to touch themselves, and it would turn into a whole different phone call.
I go to bed early, and they would have their calls later at night, while I was sleeping anyway. Felt ok, that he would be on the phone with her, masturbating, as the special day neared. It was like a holiday we were all looking forward to, curious and preparing emotionally.
I felt happy that my spouse was getting this diversity–felt great to live my values of open relationship, sexual kindness and connection, sharing resources, and bringing new joy into my spouse’s life. My friend’s life too.
This whole plan felt perfect–an easy way for my spouse to have some tender connection / pussy on the side without longterm sharing that would be work to logisticate. I want a larger family with more than two adults. But I dread the time management struggles of having someone halfway in our family. I prefer in or out.
I was surprised by how non-jealous I felt–flickers of fear would trouble me sometimes. What if he liked her way better than me? What if something difficult that happened that we couldn’t predict? I tried to guess what. Unpredictable stuff always happens. But I want to believe we’re strong enough to weather anything.
When I looked inside myself for substantial jealousy, and I wasn’t finding it. That surprised me, as many years before, I would have been overwhelmed with jealous pain.
When I was young, I was so insecure and fearful. I didn’t even like my ex-es fantasizing about other people, let alone doing it with them. I’d experienced too much trauma. I was terrified of losing what I had, and I mistakenly thought safety was isolation. My mode was Crisis, and I feel sorry for that young Nest who was very damaged and had no idea how to live.
Yeah, I’d survived way too much violence. I needed some time to rest and learn about myself, which is ok. Hidden, quiet. But that was no way to treat a partner, keeping other people cooped up with me.
Now I understand that it’s appropriate to hide sometimes and heal, or just lick my wounds, think of what happened and what I want next, vision, dream. But it’s important to fling the window open sometimes, and get some sunshine on my life too.
Now I believe true safety is in change. And interconnection is way more safe than isolation. Self-reliance is an illusion. I believe in community in a big way.
They had planned to go to a hotel. That would be easy, with no distractions, and no need to worry who saw what, where we live. The neutral ground idea sounded appealing, and they wouldn’t have to worry about making a little noise.
They’d spend a night together, 7pm to 7am, and my spouse would be home by 8am. So I would be one night alone, as those two had sex as much as they wanted. My spouse would get connection, pleasure, novelty, and learning. My friend would get the hot sex she was hungry for.
Then plans changed, and they decided to do it here, in our guest room instead. That was ok with me, but a little more complicated. She would arrive at 7pm, and I wouldn’t see her at all. They would have sex in the guest room, and there’s a bathroom right there.
Then she would leave right at 7am, and my spouse would reunite with me, to tell me how it went.
Finally the day came. My spouse and I had sex in the morning. He was horny, and it was very sweet.
“Are you nervous?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “Not really.”
Strangely, he seemed not nervous. One of my favorite things about him is how he’s simple, about sex. He’s doesn’t carry damage from being hurt or hurting others in a sexual way. Guilt is not part of it, or fears.
Of all the people I’ve ever had sex with, he is the best. He’s amazingly non-neurotic–the happiest. So I’m overjoyed to spend my life doing it with this lovely person.
In the past, I’ve thought of him as a sex kitten. He’s comfortable, charming, hot, attentive, gorgeous, up for almost anything. Feels a lot but doesn’t need things in a particular way. He’s flexible, generous, and just perfect to have sex with.
Except for the disabilities, of course. This fantasy includes zero disabilities because I need a break from those.
I go to bed, and he hugs me for a long time, saying goodnight. “See you just after 7am,” I tell him. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he says.
I’m feeling nervous-excited and masturbate for a few minutes, after he closes the door. Then I’m fast asleep.
My friend arrives right on time, and they go into the guest room. They hug. “Can I light a candle?” my spouse asks.
“Yes,” my friend says.
They hug and kiss. Their first kiss is sweet. Her little body, so different from mine, is a joy in his arms. And she feels, to him, very comfortable yet exciting.
She’s wearing a button down shirt, and the texture of the cloth is different from anything I wear. His hands are thrilled by the fabric, and he gets a surge of how new this feels and special. They kiss more and take off their clothes.
She lies down on the bed, and he touches her legs. She shaves, unlike me, and his hands like how it feels, that smooth skin. His dick is hard and big, and she reaches for it. He accepts her touch, and they begin to make love.
Everything feels new and exciting. The smells, the sensations. It’s how they talk on the phone–it happens like that. Their mood matches: excited yet not really intense. They want it a lot, but my spouse knows this is a one time thing, some enrichment. And my friend wants the sex really bad but knows my spouse is just a layover.
They kiss and make out. She sucks his dick. Her mouth feels different, her little hands on his ass, and he comes quickly. She spits into a tissue–I left a box of tissues by the bed.
Then he goes down on her. She’s lying on her back, her legs spread. Her pussy is exquisite. My love touches her hips, kisses her labia gently, kisses her clit gently, and begins to lick.
She starts to relax more and enjoys the thrill of the love in my spouse’s body, the care in his tongue. So much kind attention.
“Stop,” she says.
He stops licking and climbs higher on the bad–he holds her as she feels vulnerable. “You ok?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m good,” she says.
He kisses her head and holds her close. She wants to come but part of her is scared.
“I didn’t eat before I came over. Do you think we could go out and get some food?” she asks.
“Sure!” my spouse says.
They get dressed, and they decide to get some Thai food. My spouse is caring as always, not sure what’s expected or how to behave. But it does have date energy, and they cautiously hold hands while waiting for the food to arrive at their table.
“Do you and Nest like this place?” my friend asks.
“Yeah, we love it. Nest likes the ginger fried rice and Tom Kah soup,” my spouse says.
They eat and return to our house and the guest room for more sex. My friend is ready to come now.
They make love, cuddle, nap, go down on one another, whimper, and come. What a good night. I like imagining this one scene where he’s lying on his back, and she climbs onto him. Her little body on him is so lively and energetic. He’s excited in every way.
I’m like a whale–she’s like an acrobat mermaid. I’m like a serious, kind manatee–she’s like a baby seal, quick and amused. She has a lot more motion and is so agile. I’m like a mountain–she’s like a brilliant hiker who knows the way and takes off her shirt, getting sunshine on her round, glorious tits, as she travels fast on a path that’s very easy for her.
We’re not supposed to compare, but how could we not? She rides him with ease. She smiles. Her glorious tits and little tummy are jiggling as she easily pumps her pussy up and down on his dick. There is no struggle. She grinds harder, realizing she could come on him. Her hands are on his shoulders, and she’s light.
It’s a tangle of firsts. Vulnerability, smiles, emotional risks, and waves of pleasure. Kindness fills the room.
She speeds up as she nears orgasm. My love moans quietly as she uses his body skillfully. He looks at her face as she begins to come. Her eyes close, brow furrows, and mouth contorts into a grimace of pleasure so good it hurts.
He feels immeasurably lucky to have this beautiful lady coming on his dick. What did he do right, to get so lucky? He comes again also, pushing her up off the bed, as ejaculates only a little semen into her slippy cunt, so wet and slightly swollen from so much use.
They sleep and wake up just before 7. “Oh my god,” my friend says. “It’s almost time. I need to go.”
My spouse reaches for her sleepily, and his dick is big. His dick is ready to thrust into her again. He slides up against her, cuddling her, and she holds him tenderly. His dick pokes her and moves toward her cunt.
She kisses him. Her cunt is throbbing for him too. He climbs onto her and begins to fuck her, half-asleep still, getting some last moments of pussy. His slide in feels like heaven–his dick is at home in her warm, beautiful hole, and his body knows her, now. He knows how to push and enter her joyfully and what she likes. He fucks and fucks her, fast and swallow, then reaching deep inside her, pushing harder and slow.
It doesn’t make much sense–she should be getting dressed and moving out the door. But his body wants her, and he’d hoped for one last fuck before she left. He slams his body against hers, over and over, and it’s a good way to say goodbye.
She has to pee and knows she should be leaving, but it feels important to savor my spouse’s thrusts. It’s a love that means so much, although it’s only passing. She accepts his dick and glances at the clock.
I’ve been up for hours and see it’s just after 7am. I feel annoyed as I know she’s still here. Pausing in my activities, I can hear the bed in the guest room as it quietly squeaks, with their fucking bodies. I listen to the sound, taking it into my heart, that my spouse is loving my friend. My life is changing.
I understand that they’re getting in one last time, before she goes. I feel compassion for them–they’re like Romeo and Juliet, in the sense that their love will be brief. They can be very happy, but for a night only. It’s ill fated.
Sometimes in the fantasy, another 15 minutes pass, and I go to the guest room to knock on the door. Whoever last got up to use the bathroom didn’t close it all the way, so when I knock, it swings open. I see my spouse’s body entwined with hers, as he’s on top of her, on the bed. His beautiful ass flexes as he pounds his dick into her. I’d not seen his ass moving quite like that before, with another person.
I also notice her little feet, as her toes curl and uncurl, the dark blue polish on her toenails, so cute. She strains her body cunt him, and they move together, in a motion so primal.
He realizes I’m there and glaces up at me as he finally comes, pausing inside of her like he does with me, then shuddering as he delivers his load to her amazing pussy, which has become very dear to him.
He holds her as his dick’s spasms slow. He kisses her mouth then pulls out, kisses her tummy like he kisses mine. They hug, dress, and she does leave.
My spouse and I reconvene. He takes a shower and tells me about the night. He dozes a lot, that day. My friend txts, thanking me for sharing.
Then she wants to keep having sex with him. They have phone sex, in the night. She visits again in less than a month, wanting to make love with him again. Yep, of course–one more time.
But then they want one another more long term. It’s a perfect anomaly to repeat.
Then she moves back here. It makes sense–who wouldn’t want my sweet spouse’s love, if they could get it?