[ad_1]

*The following is a fictionalized version of real events. All names and identifying details have been changed.*

The moment I met Jen I knew I would never be the same. She was extroverted, fearless, and totally in control. She was the perfect complement to my shy, introverted, and anxious self. She all the time made me feel the perfect combination of safe and exhilarated. Oh, and she was a slut. My slut. My perfect, sex positive, ultra-feminist, unappologitic, body-cofident slut. She was a raging furnace in a five foot frame with inviting curves and experience to match. She commanded attention wherever she went and was the muse for many soft-bois. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go after it – not in life, relationships, or sex.

We were in an open relationship and we loved playing together and separately. Hearing all the details of her dates was passion fuel for our intimacy. I enjoyed her enjoyment; her wins were our wins. Now, it’s difficult to describe our physical chemistry to people who didn’t know us, but Jen was all the time dotting on me. Under her attention, my trademark stoicism was replaced by malleability – willingness, even giddiness, to please her. She was the perfect combination of independence and devotion.

One of my favorite memories of Jen was a swingers-club takeover party we attended together. It was held at a local bar and this month’s theme was “Glow Party.” We took our close friends, Arielle and Kyle, with us to the event.

This takeover was well attended and vibing. We saw many familiar faces and many more new faces and Jen and I fell easily into the flow of meeting and greeting. As we were refreshing our drinks, a new face walked by us and stopped to compliment Jen’s neon pink bodycon dress. He boldly complimented her figure as well, remembering to also compliment her eyes to avoid the “creep” label. She blushed, relishing the attention. He then pulled his gaze away from her long enough to congratulate me. I smiled; His envy was delicious. We exchanged pleasantries and
moved on. He was lost in the crowd as one face faded into the next.

The night wore on, alcohol followed greetings and greetings were followed by more alcohol. The growing crowd made it difficult to move about and the music began to drown out conversation and rational wondered. Arielle and Kyle found a high-top table and set up camp. We joined them for a moment to check in. They were not enjoying themselves but as we had all come together, leaving separately was not so simple. They agreed to stay another hour.

I rested on a chair enjoying my drink and the excitement of the night. Jen stood between my legs kissing my neck and teasing me through my jeans. We hadn’t yet found any new play partners but I wasn’t concerned. With Jen, if there wasn’t anyone new who was interesting, she had no trouble crafting our own tension for later. As I sipped my drink she tilted her head back and to the side, nuzzling my shoulder, signaling me to look. It was an instinctual, non-verbal form of communication we shared. I saw across the room the bold complimenter from earlier. She pressed into me, gave me a peck, and held up her index finger, a sign for me to wait and to watch. I was feeling perfect, her love and affection put me on cloud nine. I am smitten – no, infatuated. Both.

I intently watched her every single step as she crossed the room, hunting. I watch her body language change as she strikes up a conversation with the complimenter. She’s flirting. That’s not my soft, sweet, dotting partner; that’s her boss-ass bitch body language. I see the guy shrug, “sure, why not?” She turned and locked eyes with me and held my gaze and she walked back. I’m staring like a deer in headlights. She smirks an evil smirk that makes me want to praise Satan. She slides her hand up my shirt, palm flat against my chest and kisses me deeply. “Follow me.” She’s intoxicating. She takes my hand and leads me like her puppy on a leash.

She stops at a bench where her target is seated and lets my hand go slack. “Stand here and watch.” My heart is racing. I look back at the table where Arielle and Kyle are still seated, watching curiously. I look around the room and notice a small circle of our friends also watching this unfold. I bring my eyes back to Jen, she’s already on her knees in front of her mark. I know this feeling, I know what he’s seeing as she takes him out. I know her willing, hungry eyes. He lets his head fall back as she starts into some of her best work. I am keenly aware of the growing audience.

I feel my whole body as I stand behind my partner watching her please a stranger who had no more depth other than to tell her she had nice tits. I know then, this is not about him; It’s about us. We are the only people in this room that matter. The music and crowd fade into the background as I watch her every move; I’m in a complete state of euphoria. She peeks back at me, continuing her work with one hand she pats the bench next to him with the other signaling me to sit. I comply; I’m Jello. I look down at her. She locks eyes with me as she takes the stranger back into her mouth. She is burning this image into my deep memory. I am hers. She adds some theatrics – kissing the shaft and leaving spit running down as she focuses on the tip – grinning at me each time she releases. He tenses up, I can feel it as I sit next to him. She withdraws, still working him with her hand as she rises up to whisper in my ear, “I’m going to make him cum in my mouth.” I ran my hand along her supple curves, tracing her waist and hip before reaching around across her ass and thigh and giving a firm squeeze of acknowledgement. I kiss her temple. I can’t speak. She locked eyes with me again and returned to take him whole in her mouth. He is close. She let him out to the tip once more and took him
whole one final time. He exploded deep in her throat. She held my gaze unceasingly for the last few moments. I am captivated.

She rose from her knees and gave the guy a half smile and a wink. All he could muster was a breathless “Damn.” She turned toward me and in one smooth motion, swung her leg and straddled me. She grabbed a fistful of my shirt collar and wiped her mouth. Time stopped as she laced her fingers into the back of my hair and kissed me. A blissful eternity later she lay her head against my shoulder. “I think Arielle and Kyle are ready to go.”

The last thing I remember vividly was Jen asking Kyle to drive us home. We sat in the back, she scooted close to me and slid her hand past my waistband. She took me firmly in her hand, looked me directly in the eyes and said, “This is my home dick.”

NSFW: yes

[ad_2]