My Dark Sexual Fantasy

Painting the scene I’m scared to admit I desperately crave

This scene depicts scenarios of consensual bondage and rough sex. You’ve been thoroughly warned.

Though women are still too often criticized for enjoying being dominated during sex, I can say with complete authority that my delight in being tied up and roughed up by a trustworthy partner is in no way at odds with my feminism.

In fact, as a feminist, I know I have the right to like what I like, as long as all adults are practising a scene that remains safe, sane, and consensual.

The below fantasy — which I would love to someday make a reality — is often playing vividly in my head when I masturbate. It’s one of my go-tos and always works like a charm. It explores some dark themes that I’m sometimes afraid to admit I’m into, but then I remind myself that when it’s consensual, it’s insanely pleasurable (for me — not for everyone).

My husband steals into the house just after 11, and he’s brought a friend with him. Just as we’d agreed.

I’m alone in our den, my oversized sweater sliding off my shoulder and exposing my black lace camisole as I type like mad. I’m deep in thought at my desk, blasting Meg Myers’ “Desire” over the speakers. I’m also deep into a bottle of chilled rosé, which is encouraging my creativity as I craft a naughty story.

The music is loud and the words are flowing. And both men are careful to be quiet. I don’t even know they’re there until I feel a hand clamp down over my mouth and I’m dragged from my chair.

My husband stands me up and slides his forearm around my neck and shoulders, pinning my back against his broad chest. I grip his forearm and let out a surprised yelp, muffled by his hand.

I find myself face to face with his good buddy, Alex. Alex is taller than I’m used to, slimmer in build as opposed to my husband’s muscular frame. The blond scruff on his face contrasts my hubby’s dark, trim beard, and his sun-bleached locks curl at the ends, more unkempt than my man’s carefully styled black hair.

Variety is the spice of life.

When my husband lifts his hand away from my mouth, I’m smiling widely at Alex. There’s a glimmer of excitement in his grey-blue eyes.

Alex’s body is so close to mine, we’re almost touching. I want to press my body against his. I try, but I’m kept firmly in place.

Alex leans in, his lips brushing my earlobe. “I’ll wipe that little grin right off your pretty face,” he whispers. There’s a growl to his voice that makes my breath catch and my panties wet.

We’re actually very fond of each other, Alex and I, and the fact that I feel my man’s cock pressing into my ass tells me that he’s as excited as I am about our plans for the evening.

Alex carefully removes my glasses and places them on the desk. When he turns back to me, I see that he’s got a strip of wide pink masking tape in his hands. He presses it to my mouth. Then, in one quick motion, he grabs a handful of my hair, yanks my head to the side, and kisses my neck like there’s no tomorrow.

I moan as Alex nibbles and sucks on the sensitive area below my ear and his hand slips easily into my yoga pants. He lubes his finger up by inserting it inside me, then brings it to my clit, rubbing it in small circles.

My eyes roll toward the ceiling and I lean my head back against my husband’s shoulder. He chuckles in my ear in response. “Time to tie her up,” he says to Alex.

Alex removes his hand and I groan, instantly missing his touch.

I cry out when I’m suddenly lifted off my feet. My husband carries me in his arms, out of the den and down the hall. He stops at the staircase and plops my ass on the plush carpet of the fourth step, just before the landing.

His strength is impressive — because I’m a curvy-ass girl.

Alex appears before me, two bundles of rope in hand and grinning from ear to ear.

My husband gets on his knees on the landing and grabs my shoulders. Alex stays on the floor before the staircase and pulls my legs so that my butt slides down a couple of steps until I’m in the exact right spot.

The stairs leading to our landing happen to have freestanding banisters connected by wooden spindles on either side. That’s how the guys will secure me.

They each take hold of one of my hands, spread my arms, and tie my wrists to the narrow wooden spindles on either side of me. The nylon of the rope is soft and pliable so there isn’t pain, but there’s certainly a tight, restrained feeling thanks to the capable knots they’ve made.

The sensation of being bound thrills me and sends my adrenaline soaring — it always has.

Now that I’m secure, they don’t waste another second. Alex roughly yanks down my leggings and underwear, leaving me bare-assed and fully exposed to him on the staircase.

At the same time, my husband works on the four buttons of my grey sweater. He gets it open and shoves the top of my camisole down. I’m not wearing a bra, so my large breasts spill out as the top of the cami stays trapped underneath them, the elastic pulling up and lifting my breasts. My pink nipples are hard the second the air hits them.

Alex takes full advantage of this as he places himself on his knees between my legs. He leans over me and roles one nipple between his fingers while his lips surround my other nipple, lapping at it and teasing it with his tongue.

With his other hand, he rubs my clit in slow, lazy circles — making me even wetter than I already was. I moan in pleasure against the tape, my pussy practically throbbing with arousal as I lift my hips to increase the pressure of Alex’s strokes.

That’s when Alex gives my nipple one last tug between his teeth before diving headfirst between my legs. He spreads my thighs as wide as he can get them and glides his tongue gently over my smoothly shaved labia, purposely avoiding the spot I want his tongue to center on in the most.

I become vaguely aware of the sound of my husband removing his belt and turn my head and find his cock, hard and smooth and thick, right at my eye level.

I lift my eyebrows, the only way I can plead to hubby for what I want. Alex’s tongue is still running along my slit, torturing me slowly with desire, as my husband gently peels the tape from my lips. The masking tape is gentle enough on my skin, and because of the moisture that’s been collecting from my enthusiastic vocals, it comes off easily with barely any ouch-factor.They know that pain isn’t my turn-on.

And this night is all about my pleasure, after all.

When my mouth is free, I lick my lips and open them hungrily. My husband moves into place to give me what I want. He places his knees on the stair my head is resting on, just above my outstretched arm. He gently gathers my hair in a ponytail, helping to support my head and neck.

“Do you feel comfortable enough?” he asks, checking in with me to make sure all is well.

“Ye — yes…” Alex has chosen that very moment to lick my clit for the first time — and he keeps going. “Fuck, yes,” I say, addressing both men at once.

Yes to my husband’s question, and double yes to Alex’s tongue lashing.

“Do you want this cock?” my hubby asks. He’s stroking himself, drawing it out.

“Yes,” I say loudly.

“Tell me what you want,” he commands.

“Ah!” I’m close to coming from Alex’s handiwork, and I want to suck my man off right fucking now. “I want your cock in my mouth.” I barely manage to get it out between gasps.

My husband feeds me his cock until it hits the back of my throat and I gag. Even then, he can’t fit himself all the way. He pulls out a bit, then gently fucks my mouth at a steady pace. With his free hand, he lavishes attention on my nipples, pulling and gently twisting them between his thumb and forefinger.

I relish the feeling of my mouth being full, unable to get anything out but a muffled cry of pleasure as Alex eats me out. Our friend keeps his tongue right where it needs to be and increases the pressure, lapping at my engorged clit as he inserts two fingers inside me.

I stretch my knees even farther apart and lift my ass up to meet him. He places a hand beneath my ass and helps me grind my pussy against his face.

With my arms stretched wide and my wrists bound, my mouth fully occupied with cock, and my pussy being serviced by Alex’s tongue and fingers simultaneously, it doesn’t take me long to get there.

I shut my eyes tight as the deep pleasure that’s been building in my core boils over and explodes. My muffled voice is loud as the blissful release curls my toes and makes my leg muscles shake like jelly.

While my pussy is still contracting from the intense orgasm, Adam thrusts his cock deep inside me. I groan in sheer delight and surprise, opening my eyes wide and meeting my husband’s gaze. He gives me a wicked grin and laughs when he realizes I was so out of it while I was coming that I didn’t even know Alex had unzipped and readied himself for me.

Alex fucks me slowly at first. It’s a gloriously full feeling, and I moan to their rhythm as they both pump in and out of my cunt and mouth simultaneously.

After a few beautiful minutes, Alex speeds up, going deeper, breathing faster, pounding me harder. He buries himself as deeply as possible, hitting the back of my vaginal wall in a way that is so intense it almost hurts — but it’s a good hurt.

From his pocket, Alex produces one of my many bullet vibrators. He holds it to my clit as he stays still, his dick deep inside me. My husband takes his lead and buries his cock as far in my mouth as he can. They stay like this, unmoving, waiting for the bullet to do its job as I breathe rapidly through my nose.

I come again in less than a minute, wailing in ecstasy around my husband’s cock and sounding louder than a firetruck.

As my pussy grips his cock, Alex pounds into me once, then twice. He grunts with each thrust, and on the third one, he comes hard. I feel his warmth fill me up. As he comes, he doesn’t let up on the bullet toy. It stays glued to my clit, and I lower my hips, trying to get away from it.

“Is it too much for you?” Alex says, smirking. He pulls out of me and moves the bullet down so it’s stimulating my labia and doesn’t hit my clit directly. The toy becomes especially slippery as I feel his come dripping from my pussy.

My husband pulls his cock from between my lips immediately so I can answer. I see it’s gleaming and dripping with my saliva, so hard that it looks like it could go off any second.

“I can’t,” I tell them both. My tone sounds like a mix between pleading and whining. “I can’t come again.”

But that’s not the safeword, not even close, so they keep torturing me. My husband joins Alex on the floor and takes his place between my legs. Alex shifts so that he’s beside me. He moves the bullet up, directly stimulating my clit again but keeping the pressure light.

“No, I…I can’t do it…”

Still not the safeword. My husband plows into me and I’m filled to the brim yet again. Alex passes the bullet to him, and he keeps up with the clit stimulation as he pumps into me.

“I don’t believe you,” my husband says. “You have another one in you.”

“I don’t,” I moan in protest. But maybe, just maybe, he’s right. And I want to find out.

Alex puts his free hands to good use and fondles my breasts, lavishing more stimulation on my nipples. My shouts match the timing of each thrust as my hubby fucks me relentlessly. He’s building up and I know he’s close to falling over the edge.

I let out an ecstatic, open-mouthed cry each time he plows into me. Alex then leans over me and kisses me passionately, swallowing my moans. It takes me by pleasant surprise, and I kiss him right back as I melt into the staircase.

The feel of Alex’s tongue dipping in my mouth, his hands on my breasts, the bullet on my clit, and my husband’s dick filling me over and over is the most pleasure my body has ever felt in so many places at one time.

It’s sheer bliss, and it’s driving me to the fucking brink of insanity.

When I finally come a third and final time, it’s a twisting, violent orgasm as I riggle my entire body and pull as hard as I possibly can against my wrist restraints. I’m basically biting Alex’s lips at this point, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

My husband’s orgasm follows just after mine, and he empties himself into me.

“Turquoise,” I say, gasping for air. “Fucking turquoise. Fuck!

At the sound of our safeword, my husband immediately turns off the vibrator. He cups my cheek and presses his lips to mine while Alex takes care of the ropes.

This time Alex carries me. My mostly naked body seems to be useless, my muscles so wobbly from the best sex I’ve ever had that I’d probably fall over if I tried to walk.

Our friend lays me in the bed, and they both get in on either side of me. We alternate drinking wine and rehydrating with water as both men stroke my skin gently and massage different parts of my body. Alex plays with my hair, which is the ultimate relaxation for me.

When I’m almost asleep, I hear them hatching a plan for our next overnight play session.

Feature image photo credit: Image by DivvyPixel from Pixabay 

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My Boyfriend Told Me He Wants to Give Other Men Oral

Navigating our sexual evolution as a couple

Recently, my good friend Gabby and I finally got together for dinner and drinks after syncing up our too-busy schedules. We talked about the usual over my white wine and her Moscow mule. What I’d been up to, the new woman she was dating, how neither of us could stay out too late or drink too much because we both had to work early in the morning.

Fast forward to sometime around midnight, our second bar of the evening, four or five drinks in. We were analyzing each other’s sex lives, as we like to do, and that’s when I decided to seek her wise counsel.

I shared my wandering thoughts regarding something my partner and I had discussed on several different occasions. There were a few reasons it felt right, one of them being her experience with exploring her sexuality and eventually coming out as a lesbian to her friends and family.

I prefaced it by explaining I was about to reveal some pretty personal info that wasn’t exactly mine to share. But I didn’t know where else to turn. And I trusted her.

“I’m pretty sure my boyfriend wants to have sex with men,” I blurted out. “I think he’s bisexual.”

She raised an eyebrow and took another drink, the corners of her lips drifting upward in a subtle smile.

Honesty time

When I met my partner, it was literally love at first sight. Depending on your perspective, it could be considered lust at first sight, but the second after we were introduced to each other, there was an intense emotional/intellectual connection as well as a physical one.

It’s safe to say that it was love and lust at first sight.

We were extremely hot and heavy for years, and it was the most intense connection I’d ever experienced with a man.

There are a million stories I would love to write about how we got where we are, but this is the one I’m focused on at present. It’s the state of our sexual relationship as it is today — which is evolving.

Our first eight years together, I had no inclination that my partner might be sexually interested in men. None at all. He was too busy getting into my pants and making me feel like the most tempting goddess of sex in all the universe.

He didn’t tell me about his past experience with a guy until much later, and I learned that he’s never spoken about it to any of his other female partners before me.

He told me of his secret encounter while we were in bed one night, post-sex. By this point, things had slowed down for us as a couple sexually, and I’d just started exploring my own sexual awakening. This was a couple years ago when I was starting to realize that monogamy was, maybe, not my default.

I’d been slowly letting him in on my growing interest in threesomes, open relationships, and polyamory. It was a time in our relationship when we were talking about sex and fantasies more than we were having sex.

I had just shared with him that, if it was something he wanted, I’d be open to inviting another woman to join us, even though the idea of sex with a woman isn’t a huge turn-on for me. But if the right situation came along, and we all felt safe with consensual exploration, it’s an experience I wouldn’t want to miss.

My strong preference, however, would be to invite another man to join us. I fantasize about a wild and intense threesome where two men are giving me all of the attention.

Lo and behold, my revelations encouraged him to reveal one of his own. That night, for no particular reason I can discern, he felt comfortable sharing a same-sex experience he’d had in high school. He’d given one of his male friends oral sex. And he admitted that, even after twenty-plus years of never acting on feelings of same-sex attraction, they were still there.

A secure man can be vulnerable

I was totally surprised. This man was the best kisser I’d ever been with, the best giver of oral sex, and the one who could make love to me until I was in a spellbinding, orgasmic daze. But just because he was very skilled with a woman’s body didn’t mean he couldn’t be skilled with a man’s. My being a female never seemed to be a turn-off for him, so I assumed he was bisexual.

A survey of LGBT Americans from the Pew Research Center found that while 77% of gay men and 71% of lesbians say the important people in their lives know of their sexual orientation, just 28% of bisexuals say the same.

This lines up with the fact that my partner has never admitted it to anyone else, and he never even told me until we had eight years under our belt.

Back when we first started talking about his sexual attraction to men, he wouldn’t attach a label to it, and I didn’t either. It was new, it was interesting, it was exciting. I never knew he was so sexually open-minded. We were evolving together.

How many women have told their male partners about experimenting with a woman sexually, or just wondering what it would be like? How many men would confide their same-sex experience or curiosity to their female partners?

Mine would. He would trust me enough to let me in. And I love that about him. I was happy that he felt safe telling me something he had never felt safe enough to tell anyone else.

And I think once he learned how accepting/encouraging I was, he found it easier to talk about.

And boy, did he talk.

Aural sex

My partner can be extremely vocal when we’re being intimate. Talking about various sexual scenarios intensifies his orgasm. Eventually, he felt comfortable enough to talk about what he’d like to do with another man.

And he wanted me to talk about it too. I admit, I get a little shy when it comes to dirty talk. Sometimes I’m in the mood to just shut up and get down to the action. Plus, he’s far better at the talking than I am.

But I know he absolutely loves it when I participate and paint a verbal picture for him, so from time to time, I’ll give it my best effort. I know the idea of fellating a man still turns him on, and sometimes we’ll talk about that.

Other times we talk about him watching me and one of my girlfriends. Or, one of his favorites, me pegging him with a strap-on while he gives a male guest a blow job.

I confess, there was a point when, while discussing different hypothetical scenes, I started feeling less turned on and more insecure. Was I enough for him? Was he more into men, or maybe just into men? Did he need to fantasize about a man in order to get off with me? Was my lack of external genitalia becoming a problem now that he’d opened up about this hidden part of his sexuality?

Maybe I even felt like I was in competition with him, on some weird imaginary level that has yet to happen. If we finally do feel adventurous enough to invite a man into a threesome, I wanted to be the one giving blow jobs while being fucked. Now, I realize, I might have to wait in line.

I’m incredibly submissive when it comes to sex. And I think my partner might be as well. Maybe labels have their drawbacks, but in my case, I think I’d find them helpful.

Evolving together

Despite some of my worries, which I’m pretty sure are rooted in insecurity and have no real foundation when it comes to my partner’s love for me, the fact remains that we’re definitely not bored as a couple. And, I like to give blow jobs too, so I can see where he’s coming from.

If a couple starts to get bored, stops exploring their ever-changing sexual desires, or, worst of all, stops communicating — they’re in trouble.

Somehow, I think my partner and I are just beginning. We’re like an upgraded version of what we were before, and I look forward to where this new platform will take us.

I shared all this with my trustworthy friend on a Friday night in a dark corner of a hole-in-the-wall bar. Interestingly enough, when she found out my partner loved pegging, her eyes lit up.

Gabby has never enjoyed being penetrated by a man, but she does feel attraction to men, and pegging is something she’s very much into.

Later that night, when I went home to my partner and straddled him, I explained everything Gabby and I had discussed.

I know he wants to invite Gabby in, and the fact that she knows about this part of him seemed to flip a switch. That night while we made love, he was very vocal about what he wanted the three of us to do together.

Honestly, Gabby’s the one friend I think I’d feel comfortable with bringing into our first threesome, though that night is the closest she and I have ever come to touching on that topic. Though we both flirt with each other shamelessly, we’ve never so much as kissed.

The question still remains: Will my partner and I act on our fantasies, or do we keep them wrapped in a nice, safe bubble that we take out and play with on occasion, when we’re in the mood for a little aural stimulation?

I’m excited to find out.

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