Impulse, Part Nine

Standard

Later on, after he’d played with Azure, Pup took me back upstairs into a different room. He put me on my hands and knees and slid inside me. “Look at that,” he murmured in my ear, “you’re still wet from him, baby.” 

I’m not going to lie to you. Our poly isn’t always perfect, my life usually isn’t that sexy. For every Friday night spent in lingerie or some scanty costume at a play party are another three or four spent in sweatpants catching up on Netflix and doing laundry. But I had a great time, I did something brave and, after a really tough shit-constantly-happening-everything-going-wrong kind of year, I got back out there.

Gallery

Impulse, Part Eight

With a few condoms in hand, I rejoined Rex upstairs. We were back at it in a few moments, Rex slipping two fingers inside me while he bit on my ear. He leaned up and pulled out his cock, pumping his hand over it before asking, “now, can you suck this?” I thought I could hear a tiny bit of the kind of condescension I like.

The sex was simple, urgent. He shoved my legs up to my chest and we stayed like that after we finished. Still inside me, he leaned down and kissed my forehead.

“Well, hi.” I said.

“Hey there.” He chuckled. 

We stayed like that and talked. It was almost comical, doing that sort of small talk after we’d already fucked, playing out the whole flirtation thing backwards. He played with my hair while I talked about myself. We discovered we both came from the same place before we’d moved here, that we both worked in the same field. We had mutual friends in our old city. It was bizarre.

And, yeah, when we were back up on our feet, he asked for my number. Thankfully, I got smart and gave him my phone, telling him to put his name in it. Which is, you know, how I discovered his name was Rhett and not Rex. I stood between his legs while he sat and he added me to his phone as well, one hand typing the number and the other resting on my butt.

“Wait a minute,” Rex said as I was pulling my skirt by on. “Can I take a picture of you?”

I turned to him. “Really? Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s something I’ve always done after significant or interesting things.” 

“What, this is significant and interesting?” I teased.

“Well, yeah.” Rex replied. It was his first play party in this new city. 

I looked away and straightened my posture. “Keep my face out of it.”

Gallery

Impulse, Part Seven

The couch cleared off for us, and “Rex”/Rhett and I settled down on it. Someone set a timer on their phone for three minutes. I laid back and Rex angled himself over me, looping an arm around me and kissing me again. 

I genuinely want to say we made it to three minutes. Even two and a half. But at some point I had my legs around his waist and Rex’s hands were moving over my body, starting to remove the rest of my clothing. His lips were soft, the stubble on his face rough, his hands strong and imploring. There was something about it that just worked, some weird combination of that fact that I hadn’t been to a party in a while, had come into this evening with no expectations, and had suddenly gotten into this encounter with someone I had pretty strong chemistry with.

“Honestly, it was like a porn,” Pup said later. “Not like, in terms of hotness. It was hot. But in terms of people just kind of dropping everything and wanting to fuck.”

There was a rule at the party to use the rooms upstairs for sex or scenes in order to respect people’s bondaries, and so we decided to try to be discreet and sneak upstairs. Of course, just about everyone in the group noticed. “Wow,” the host said. “Didn’t even get to three minutes, huh?” 

As I headed up the stairs, I looked to Pup to make sure this whole thing was all right, and was rewarded with just about the goofiest grin and thumbs-up ever. (Poly victory?)

When we got upstairs, we discovered someone had moved the condoms out of the room. I took a deep breath, headed back down the stairs, and called out to the host, “hey…can we get a condom?”

The group still in the circle cheered.

Impulse, Part Six

Standard

“We should, ah, we should maybe do something later,” I said to the guy on the couch who had kissed me while I was blindfolded. He looked a bit older than me, blond, a bit mischievous-looking (though considering the context, this made sense.) He was rather tall, though I had deduced as much when blindfolded from how I had to tilt my head to kiss him. When I propositioned him like that, in possibly the vaguest way possible, he – and a few other people around the circle – laughed. “Uh,” I added, “what’s your name?”

I was blushing. Pup was cracking up next to me.

The guy on the couch said his name, but I totally misunderstood it. (For the purposes of anonymity on the Internet, let’s say his name was Rhett and I misheard it as Rex. It was that level of like close-sounding names.) And rather than asking him to repeat himself I was like, internally, ok I think I heard Rex let’s just go with that but maybe don’t call this person by his name right away in case you’re really wrong.

People continued drawing cards around the circle. I watched Pup give a guy a pretty righteous spanking from a dare on the guy’s card, as well as saw him go to town licking this girl’s toes. I mean, the entire group was sort of speechless and transfixed watching it. Otherwise, there were kisses, slaps, massages. When it was “Rex”’s turn, he drew a card that had him share the craziest place he’d ever had sex. And though the location was pretty wild, it didn’t give much indication as to whether he fell more into the category of “swinger” or “kinkster.” After all, the whole kissing thing could have been because he wasn’t actually into hurting people or humiliating them.

When my own turn came up, I thought I might have the chance to see. Instead, I drew a requisite “check-in” card, which I am ***NOT COMPLAINING*** about because checking in is super important during an activity like this. But I got my opportunity when “Rex” drew a card and smirked.

“So, it says to have three minutes ‘in heaven’ with another person in front of the group. Any takers?” he asked. He was looking right at me.

I pretended to be all easy-going and raised my hand, saying, “oh, I’d be down.” But internally I was like:

Gallery

Impulse, Part Five

I’d told everyone my limits and clarified what didn’t feel good for me, though I could not clearly express what I wanted. There wasn’t much I could put to words, considering what was about to happen.

I tied the blindfold over my eyes and waited.

For a moment, nothing happened. Naturally, my thoughts drifted to the worst ideas: no one else was into this or into me, I’d upped the ante way too soon, I was making people uncomfortable. It’s the kind of insecurity that has plagued my relationship to kink forever: the fear of being the only one who actually enjoys it. Which, yeah, at a play party is absolutely absurd.

The moment, though perhaps an eternity in my head, was maybe the length of one deep breath. And then everything: hands, mouths. Someone untying the belt on my skirt. Someone biting my neck. A hand in my hair, a hand on my ass. A hand settled at my side, pulled me a bit forward, and someone’s lips met mine. I reached up and placed a hand on the body in front of me. As I felt the scrape of an unfamiliar patch of stubble, I realized I wasn’t kissing someone I had kissed before.

The whole thing – the hands, the fingers, the mouths – was impossibly hot, but something was incredible about the fact that a stranger had come over in the midst of the probing and grabbing and biting to grab me and kiss me. Maybe it was the fact that the action was the most vanilla of anything that was happening, the most commonplace. The only thing that could have been done outside of the context of me being blindfolded at a play party. My friend suggested that it was the fact that the person had grabbed me and initiated something so intimate in the midst of a group like that. “It was like he was claiming you,” she said. I don’t know how sold I am on that idea.

And just as quickly as it all began, it was over. Someone reached out and tickled my stomach, making me double over. I recognised the host’s voice: “I think that’s enough for you.”

I removed the blindfold and sat back down, barely able to look up at the group now that I had no idea who had been touching me and where. Even though I knew it wasn’t him, I turned to Pup and asked, “was that you kissing me?”

“Nah,” he said. “I was biting you mostly.”

Mustering up all the bravery I could manage to make eye contact with everyone, I looked around the circle and asked, “all right, who was it?”

A guy on the couch raised his hand.

Impulse, Part Four

Standard

The circle went around once more, drawing cards and taking dares. By the time it was my turn again, more people from the party had joined in. And while I recognised some familiar faces, the group was still predominantly strangers.

Still, I was feeling a lot braver than when I had arrived, spurred on by my own nerve in letting half the room spank me and willingness of the others in the group. So, I drew another one of the cards that prompted me to bottom, and felt myself immediately blushing as I looked it over.

“What’s it say?” the host asked.

I tried to say it, but I felt myself stammering. I passed it over to a friend nearby, and she read it aloud. Ever since I have gotten in touch with some of the more specific and risky things I’m into, I’ve felt like I’ve been driving with the parking break on whenever I thought of them. It’s beyond trepidation; it’s more the fear that others will recognise how much I enjoy it and think that I should be more reluctant, more afraid. Even in an environment where people emphasise consent so heavily. That. And, well, I’m shy.

So shy I’ve been having trouble writing it explicitly here.

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to,” the host said. “You can absolutely pass.”

I’ve been fairly honest on this blog about the fact that I like to be overwhelmed. And the scenario of being blindfolded at a party and left for everyone to manhandle has been one that I’ve referenced time and time again. But I’ve never been brave enough to do it, let alone attempt to organise it, and now I had the opportunity. Among strangers and friends, with Pup nearby, I could do it.

“No, I, um, actually.” I felt myself smiling. “I really, really want to.”

Gallery

Impulse, Part Three

The instructions on the card that I picked read that I was to walk around the circle and ask everyone to slap my ass. Pretty please.

I feinted towards starting with Pup, who was sitting to my right, before turning and heading to the left. I turned and lifted my skirt, asking each participant to spank me. Even though I was at a sex party, I get into my head in this silly way where I think that if I show too much enthusiasm, people will think I’m strange. Yes, at a sex party. So I was keeping it kind of playful and reluctant, not wanting to show my hand.

When I reached the host of the party, I didn’t get the slap I expected. Instead, he folded his arms and smirked. “I don’t think you want it bad enough.” 

I felt a blush burn over my cheeks. I’d been friends with the host of this party since I got into the local kink scene. We met at the very first play party I went to, and he’s a profoundly sweet and kind person. Pup and I were at his wedding. He’s also 90% a sub. But he’s got this teensy, tiny little toppy streak that certain subs seem to have when they manage to channel all the cruelty and humiliation they crave and are used to receiving onto someone else.

He placed his hands on my hips and pulled me a bit closer. Even though he was sitting on the couch, I still felt small next to him. “Try again,” he said.

“Would you please slap my ass?” I scoffed and asked again. “Pretty please?” He nodded for me to keep going and I groaned. A few people in the circle were laughing. “Please, I really, really want you to spank me. I’d be so glad if you did.”

He delivered a sharp smack and sent me off around the circle. By the time I reached Pup, my rear was stinging. Azure had given me something on the gentler side, though I doubt that was the sole reason why Pup had doubled his efforts and hit me so hard that I visibly winced when I finally got to sit back down.

“Poor baby,” Pup teased. “But good thing I went last. Or people would’ve seen how hard they could have hit you.”

Gallery

Impulse, Part Two

The party was packed. And while there were some faces I had seen before, the vast majority of the people there were more or less strangers. Fortunately, since the party was held in the hosts’ home, the vibe was mostly pretty chill. There were some people hanging out and talking, as well as some very light play going on. 

But the vast majority of the people at the party were engaged in a few games set up. With so many people there, I felt more comfortable getting involved than I would if it were a smaller group. Wanting to be brave, I urged Pup to go over to where Azure already was and take part in her activity, which was more or less a game of strip Jenga. 

I walked into another area on my own, where a group of people maybe ten in size was playing a game with a few sets of cards. The game had been made by one of the guests, and the cards ranged from mild suggestions, the yellow cards, through adventurous, top, bottom, and all the way up to the dares, the pink cards. “So, just straight up,” a guy who I’d seen at one of these parties before explained when I sat down to join them, “those cards are basically the fucking cards. Like they’re just legit sex.”

“Good to know,” I replied, and stuck to picking cards in the milder category. It had been a long time since I had been to one of these parties, and I wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable with such a new group. The tone itself was still pretty mild anyway, and even when people took more daring cards, they avoided to pink ones altogether.

By the time Pup and Azure came over to join in our game, I’d kissed a very cute girl and allowed someone to give me a massage. But wanting to be brave now that Pup was there, I reached for the cards labelled “bottom” and drew the top one. 

Gallery

Impulse, Part One

A few Fridays ago, Pup and I were invited by a couple we’re pretty good friends with to a sex/play party held a little ways from our place. I hadn’t been to one of these in quite a long while, and the entire week leading up it I was incredibly nervous at the prospect of going. 

The day of the party, my jitters peaked and everything seemed to be going wrong. A meeting I was supposed to have that day ran over by an hour and a half, so I was running severely late. While getting ready, I managed to break a light in our bathroom. Somehow, Pup and I had accidentally assumed we’d both be wearing this one flannel that’s been sitting around our closet. 

Yeah, a flannel. The theme of the party was camping/the woods. He was going as a lumberjack, so the flannel worked best for him. I think honestly my outfit looked more like some kind of 90s grunge kid from Seattle. Lace bralette with a different oversized flannel opened up on top, a short skirt, thigh-high socks and knee high boots. But, whatever, as we both remarked, “we’re probably going to be wearing this crap for all of ten minutes.”

Even though I looked good, I was anxious and a little lazy and exhausted by the day. “You’re going to have a partner there,” I lamented to Pup, referring to Azure, a girl he’s been seeing since the spring. I like her, though she’s pretty quiet and has a really unbearable husband (MORE ON THAT LATER) that I really didn’t want to end up cornered by at this party, as he had done in the past. “I’m worried I’m going to be stuck awkwardly in the corner and you’re going to have to feel bad and keep me company.”

We’d invited Leo, but he had family visiting. Though I had some friends who would be there, I was genuinely worried that I would be too shy or awkward or nervous to really do anything with anyone.

Once we’d gotten ready and I felt brave enough to go, we realized we wouldn’t actually be all that late. So we hopped in the car and proceeded to get stuck in an obscene amount of traffic, doubling the amount of time the trip should have taken. By the time we got there, we were so annoyed about some pretty terrible people on the road that I almost considered asking if we could just go home.

But I’m really glad I didn’t.