Baby, Can I Hold You

Fetishisation of Black Men

June 23, 2025

dating

This crazy thing happened the other day. I went to a social event hosted by the sex website I use. There are these social events for a local area or connected to a club or whatever. I’ve been to 1 (one) before and it had mixed results and I figured I hadn’t given it a proper chance and decided to attend another one.

Two or three days before I went to this social event, I started messaging with this very interesting man. We weren’t necessarily at a point where I was excited to meet him but I wasn’t far off that feeling when he told me he was going to be at this social event too. It wasn’t hugely clear to me if we were just coincidentally going to be in the same place or if he was going there specifically to meet me. Even when he sent another face picture so I’d recognise him and I sent one of myself I wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

I get there fairly early and there’s already a crowd of people, including a couple that I’ve met before that I’m happily talking to when I look up and see him. Objectively speaking, this man is very attractive. This social event is taking place on the verandah of a sprawling pub and there are a couple of tables and a bunch of people in between us when I see him and give him a smile and a wave.

He comes over straight away, and that’s pretty much when the craziness starts happening. I know this social event is exclusively filled with people from a sex website and getting naked and pressing against each other naked is what we have in common but good lord. He wasn’t the only attractive man there but he was definitely the only person getting the type of attention that he was.

Women would walk past him and run their fingers along his arms. When they interrupted conversations that were being had to speak to him, they’d press their hands on his chest. The host of the party kept ‘accidentally’ running into him from behind, all oops, I didn’t see you there and used the excuse to touch more of him.

He and I were even talking about how he was onto ‘Little Miss’ and all her sly touching when he said something about older women and how forward and direct they are (he and I are the same age). He was telling a story about how an older woman had reached over and cupped his dick when he was in an admittedly sexual space but that it had unnerved him so much that he always wore another layer when he was there after. And literally as he said this, a woman in her 50s across the room did something with her tongue at him and if my jaw dropped open dramatically then I wouldn’t have been surprised. It was such a gross display of lack of boundaries, lack of dignity and something really gross in reducing this man to being a good looking black man so he must want all this attention, all this flirtation, all the touching.

I still wasn’t sure if he was into me but when the crowd started thinning we did have an interesting conversation about education and the set texts for the English curriculum. I said something like when meeting new people I wish men wouldn’t be so boring and he made me laugh by giving an example of how talking about the weather can still be interesting and he said it so convincingly that I changed my mind in that moment. He was incredibly funny and it wasn’t the first time he’d made me laugh that evening.

We decided to leave at the same time and went to say goodbye to the hosts (one of which was Little Miss who had kept bumping into him all night and at one point just shouted in his face ‘God, you’re so sexy!’ in a way that made me uncomfortable). He said something to her that had her very dramatically taking offence and had her demanding in a slightly drunken way that he take back whatever he’d said.

He took it well but hadn’t said anything wrong so didn’t take it back. She carried on until, out of nowhere, she just dropped to her knees in front of him and offered to give him a blowjob in ‘penance’ for whatever perceived slight there was. He said to her after she’d dropped to her knees ‘Friend, that looks uncomfortable’ and asked her to get him. She wouldn’t until he took back what he’d said.

When she did get up, she said quietly (but not too quietly) that she meant it, that she’d happily give him a blowjob and he swerved this by saying how far he’d be driving to get back home. I wasn’t sure if I should wait while all of this was happening and I felt pretty awkward at this point. In the end I left only 30 seconds or so before he disentangled himself and he caught up to me. I asked him if he was okay but his reaction seemed to indicate that this happened a lot to him. Which was so sad.

Even walking back to the car park we passed a woman who I’d vaguely been aware of at the social event and even though he and I were talking and laughing as we passed her she stepped in front of him so that he’d stop so that she could apologise for not speaking to him earlier but that she was glad he had come. (She didn’t say the same to me! I’m not even sure she was aware of my presence.)

When we said good night in the car park he gave me a side hug and said, ‘Pal, have a good evening’ and I knew in that moment and with that word choice that he wasn’t into me. But I definitely appreciated the straight-forward way in which he let me know that.

Still, what a bizarre night and a deeply unsettling look into the experiences of black men in a space filled with horny, middle aged white women.

No comments on Fetishisation of Black Men
Reciprosexual

June 20, 2025

dating

I met this lovely man once. Several times, in fact. We’d connected on Tinder and he just seemed so naturally kind and good natured that it didn’t take me very long at all to know that I’d like to meet up and see where things could go with him.

We first met up in a cafe. And we talked for hours about our jobs, our dogs. The end of our previous relationships. He was quick to smile and laugh and I love that in another person. He really listened when I talked and it just felt so easy to be around him.

He was tall, good looking and just incredibly sweet. He really left an impression on me and I remember thinking …I like him as a person, I could see myself hanging out with him. Talking about books, playing board games. Doing pretty much anything. When we say goodbye he gave me a hug and we went our separate ways.

But we met up soon after that for a walk around a local park with a big lake. I was hoping he was going to bring his dog and I think he was hoping the same about me but it was just the two of us. Despite him asking me to go on a hiking trip with him (which I couldn’t make) that felt perhaps on the borderline of being not platonic, everything between him and me had been platonic at this point.

We hadn’t talked about sex, we hadn’t talked about moving things further together into something where sex might be something we did together. Everything we said and did together was strictly above board. Very friendsy.

And I remember after the walk around the lake I started thinking … why do I not have any sexual thoughts about this man? He’s lovely! He’s nice! He’s very cute! He makes me laugh! I was really twisting myself about it, thinking he’s jumped through my demisexual hoops. We’re friends. We share things together, we’re vulnerable with each other, I feel comfortable with him. So why don’t I want to tear his clothes off? Why can’t I even picture myself taking his clothes off? Or even kissing him?

I started going through a list of dates I’d had previously. I starting thinking about other people I’d kissed, how I knew that I wanted to have sex with them. And I was looking for some kind of theme. Maybe it was something in their personality, something I picked up on? But cute, kind men who make me laugh are totally my type. On paper, I should be all over this man and I really struggled to know why there was just nothing between us.

And eventually I did sort of fall into the answer. I’d heard the term ‘reciprosexual’ perhaps six months earlier at a work diversity thing. I remember the name stood out as a term that I’d not heard before. Which sparked a curiosity. After thinking about it again I quickly looked up the definition of reciprosexual and my heart stopped reading it in the context of the situation with this man:

Reciprosexual is a sexual orientation on the asexual spectrum meaning someone who does not experience sexual attraction unless they know that the other person is sexually attracted to them first.

I’ll tell you though. Even though when I read it and felt a pull towards truth I also felt a bit of annoyance. I didn’t want another thing. Another something that complicates matters, that stops things from being simpler. And it has taken awhile for me to really accept being reciprosexual. To accept that for me, sex and relationships are not simple.

No comments on Reciprosexual
Being On Dating Apps

June 19, 2025

dating

…as a demisexual and reciprosexual is a question I get asked quite often.

The way that my sexualities mean is that I don’t feel a sexual attraction to others until the two conditions have been met: an emotional connection has been formed (demisexual) or they’ve expressed a sexual interest in me (reciprosexual). I’m fairly open about the challenges these can bring to dating or sexual experiences and I manage them okay, I think.

I’m not going to lie, it can be quite a struggle. But as this blog illustrates, I do okay. I think the challenge for me initially was getting past how visual dating apps can be/are. For this, when I’m looking at someone’s picture online I look at it and ask myself several different questions:

Does this person look like the sort of person that would be kind to my dog? Does this person look like the sort of person I could babble in front of in my awkwardness? Do they look like the sort of person who would take things at my speed? Or check in on how I’m feeling or doing? Do they look like the sort of person that I could be honest with? That might take rejection well if I never felt sexual attraction to them? It’s a lot of on the spot judgement in a picture but it’s pretty much all I’ve got – does your face look kind? Does it look open and willing to see things from my perspective in how I experience sex and dating?

Once I get over the visual hurdle, I find that a lot of allosexual people can go from zero to sixty in seconds. And it takes me far longer to get there. With some getting to know you messaging, really delving into someone else’s brain and how it works. Patience is always good. And a good dash of understanding and acceptance too. Sometimes I’m not aware of my attraction right away. Sometimes it takes several dates, sometimes it takes some kissing for me to know (or not know!). There’s no timeline here. And not everyone is okay with that. Sometimes I’m not even okay with that. But I’m working on it.

No comments on Being On Dating Apps
First Time We Met

June 18, 2025

dating, relationships, sex

Is it possible to know you’re going to fall in love with someone so early? Like, almost immediately I knew there was a connection. But when you and I met? There’s just something about you, you calm me down. Everything felt comfortable and I will never be able to know for sure if I’m just melding all the times we met together and remembering that collectively there was an easiness about being around you. But there was. I always just felt …relaxed around you. When normally I’m on high alert around new people. But not with you. Or, maybe a little with you.

But there was something about watching you drive, being able to see your serious concentration face for the first time. The slightly awkward way that you start a conversation. I could hear something in your voice, even though I didn’t know you well at all that first time we met, but it was almost like you were nervous enough for both of us. And because of that I was able to just let my nervousness go.

I don’t remember one single thing that we said that first time we met. Not one word. Other than the tone of your voice telling me that you were probably nervous (which isn’t surprising) I don’t remember if we talked about the weather, our days at work? Nothing. But I do remember looking at you and smiling. I loved that your car was messy when you picked me up. I remember looking at your hand as you shifted gears. The way you wearing glasses changed the image of you that I had in my head. I wish I could remember anything about that day. What was I wearing? What were you wearing?

We’d talked on the phone before we met but do you remember? the line was really bad and I couldn’t really hear you so it was like I was hearing your voice for the first time. And it was so lovely. Not just hearing your voice but hearing your words coming out of your mouth in real time. And not waiting for you to type at me. It used to really get to me that you’d type and then stop and then type and then stop and then type and then stop. All of that filtering of your thoughts you’d be doing but in person there wasn’t that option. And I loved that.

Looking back on it, I can’t believe how quickly everything happened. What was our first kiss like? Was it perfect? It probably wasn’t. But I also can’t remember a kiss with you that was bad so it was probably pretty great. I know I moved too quickly for you and I still feel equal parts mortified and also like I want to burst into laughter thinking about it. One of us maybe said something about there being too many clothes between us? Maybe it was one of those things that we said without any words? But I remember I pulled off both my leggings and my underwear at the same time. And until the day I die I will forever remember the look of panic on your face when you saw what I’d done. Oh my god, it was a moment of sheer terror like, dear lord, what have I done?

And I remember I told you afterwards about the look on your face and what I thought when I saw it. I told you that it’s likely we’d never do that again so I may as well just enjoy the experience in the moment. And I did. It’s hard to write this post because I still remember what your skin feels like, what it feels like to have your body pressed against mine, the feel of your hair under my fingers, your tongue on me, your cold fingers.

Maybe it wasn’t the first time that we met that I fell in love with your (lack of) earlobes, the soft skin of your neck, the way your chest was mostly smooth, running my fingers along the shape of your face, across your lips. It wasn’t the first time we met that I did those things. But it was the start of those things. It was the start of you and me.

No comments on First Time We Met
Threesome

June 17, 2025

dating, relationships, sex

My second threesome was sexy as hell but the way it ended up absolutely broke me. There’s definitely a reason that I haven’t actively pursued the idea of another threesome since.

We met online. They were a married couple, both very attractive, her especially but I liked how he seemed to be the embodiment of a playful puppy. He was obviously the more chatty and outgoing between the two of them. They’d explained that it was the first time opening up their marriage and that she’d had plenty of FF experiences prior to them getting together.

We were all into the idea of getting to know each other better before anything happened. The idea was that things could become more of an ongoing thing. That if the chemistry was there and there was willingness that we might all see each other more regularly, as the three of us or in different combinations of one on one. We video called several times, we had lots of discussions about who we are as people and what’s important to us.

We often talked about what it meant for them to be opening their relationship for the first time. Their thoughts and feelings about seeing the other with another person, what that would mean. How they’d approach it. And I thought we were headed into some good spaces. I was excited to meet them.

We decided to meet up in the bar area of the hotel they were staying in. It was a no pressure drink and catch up with the understanding that if any of us didn’t want to go any further we’d finish our drinks and wish each other well. But from the moment we met all three of us were cracking jokes and feeling fairly comfortable with each other. I loved how thoughtful they both were. When they ended up talking about things that didn’t involve me one or both of them would recognise this and give a little recap of the context so I wasn’t bored. And they were usually funny anecdotes about things that I wanted to be involved in.

Eventually though, we ended up in their hotel room. Because we’d just hung out for several hours laughing and talking I was feeling pretty relaxed but they suggested we play a little game to slowly get into things. It was a combination of spin the bottle and truth or dare in that there was a bottle that each of us spun and whoever it landed on would suggest something that the other two did to each other.

I generally like things that slow things down, that build up anticipation. Especially when I’m feeling particularly impatient (this is always). Dares started pretty slowly, tracing a finger down her neck, doing the same with a tongue. Taking off the button up shirt she was wearing to reveal a vest top that could barely contain her breasts.

Mercifully, just the act of starting this game seemed to rev everyone’s engine and it was abandoned fairly shortly after. We’d decided beforehand that she and I would start things off with him enjoying the show before he joined us. And oh lord.

With her clothes on and with her clothes off she is by far the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. She had such a pretty face, with long, wavy hair. An air of being effortlessly cool and comfortable in her own body. She had large boobs and nipples that stood out, she had curvy hips and a softness to her that had me fantasising about her for months after, even after what happened.

I felt dizzy from the softness of her lips, the sight of her. I’ve never had such a strong reaction to just touching someone. But I really felt …I can’t believe I get to be near this sexy, beautiful woman. And I really got lost in her. In feeling her, in giving her pleasure, her nipples were incredibly sensitive and she loved having them played with, having them sucked into my mouth.

At some point, he joined in. His body pressed against my back, gently kissing my shoulder and neck, his hands circling my body, touching hers at the same time. The hairiness of his chest, his legs provided such an interesting contrast to the softness of her body and I twisted around to give him a kiss. One of my hands left hers to find his cock.

I don’t remember everything that happened. It felt like a blur of bodies, of hands, of mouths and tongues. But it was definitely one of those incredible experiences where we were all acting towards each other’s pleasure, all three of us at once. There were things that they’d brought up that they wanted to happen but I liked how they happened in a natural way rather than a ‘what’s next on the list?’

There were times where I noticed that they were silently checking in with each other with some of those looks that couples give to each other where whole conversations are being had with just looks. And I didn’t think much of it, just trusted that they were on top of things with themselves.

After a bit of cuddling where our legs and arms were still entwined with each other’s, we ended up going out for dinner, with more of the natural conversation and laughter. When I asked tentatively how they were both feeling over slices of pizza, they were vague and non-committal. They said they’d discuss it later between themselves and let me know. I told them sincerely that I hope they both felt good about the experience and that they kept my number. They both laughed and said they’d definitely keep my number.

But they didn’t. Six days later, he texted me that whilst they both had a great time with me that it would be better if we didn’t see each other or communicate with each other anymore. The reason he gave was that they were focusing on saving their marriage.

I really hope that the sexual experience with me just exacerbated cracks that were already there in their relationship. But it’s definitely hard not to feel the weight of responsibility. It’s such an awful feeling that an experience that I think of as being quite incredible resulted in the breakdown of a marriage. I do my best to say that it isn’t my fault. It’s not my fault. But I don’t always believe myself.

No comments on Threesome
The Ick

June 16, 2025

sex

I had this conversation the other day and shared this example about experiencing The Ick, I thought I’d share it today.

I met this man once. I think there was an element in it for me where I was maybe meeting him for the wrong reasons. He seemed nice enough, part of a couple where the intention was that the three of us might play together at some point. But there were scheduling conflicts and in the end he and I had the better availability so we ended up meeting just the two of us.

And it started okay. He had an easy smile, a friendly nature. We had things in common which meant conversation wasn’t a chore and he had had some interesting experiences living and working in other countries. We spent a lot of time talking, getting to know each other in person but eventually we ended up in his hotel room.

And there’s not a lot to say about experiences where neither anything really great or anything really bad happened. But I bring up this experience for one specific reason. We’d obviously spent plenty of time together when we were both clothed. And so when some of those clothes were removed there were surprises. And some of those surprises happened at inopportune times.

One such surprise is that he and I were kissing and he’d taken his shirt off to show off a fairly hairy chest, no problems there. It was only when I went to run my hand up his arm that the surprise happened … the hair was so thick on his arms that my hands actually got stuck in the hair. And the same happened when I entangled my hand and wrapped my hands around his back – only for my hand to similarly get stuck in a patch of what I can only describe as fur on his lower back. The feeling of experiencing The Ick during sex is a powerful thing.

Fast forward and I’m having sex with someone else. And he takes his shirt off, hairiest chest I’ve ever seen. And when I touch his chest I also get this feeling like my hand might actually be swallowed by the amount of hair there …and the thing is, I didn’t much mind.

And that’s what I brought up in the conversation I had with someone the other day. I truly believed that excess body hair was a thing that turned me off entirely and completely. For ages after it happened, I kept reliving the experience of my hand getting stuck in the arm hair of the first man and cringing. But when it happened with the second man I realised the difference. I wasn’t into the first man. I feel like if you’re really into someone, like properly into them, I’m not sure if it is possible to get The Ick.

What do you think?

No comments on The Ick
The Weight of Insecurities

June 13, 2025

relationships

I did something amazing for myself awhile back: I arranged sessions to see a psychotherapist. I strongly believe that everyone could benefit from some really good therapy. This world, it fucks you up.

And it was during therapy sessions that a lot of things came up in my life. Some I might talk about on this blog and some that aren’t hugely relevant to anyone other than myself. But one of the things that I picked up on? That I had been dealing with my ex’s insecurities for quite some time. Just carrying that around, hefting that weight with me wherever I went. And having those insecurities get between us and our relationship in small ways and quite significant ways.

Insecurity 1

I started doing an English Literature degree early on in our relationship, something that I was enormously excited about. I had plans, I had ambitions, I had dreams. Mostly to turn my interest in literature, in story telling into a career in some way. My plans and ambitions have changed over the years into new dreams but during this insecurity, I was at the height of it.

Part of my degree course allowed for me to join certain university clubs. One in particular, the Shakespeare Society, jumped out at me. Where they read and discuss Shakespeare plays like a book club but then also attend events at the Globe in London, open air productions in Stratford-upon-Avon and other cool events. Plus, it just sounded pretty amazing to be surrounded by other people who love Shakespeare.

I told my partner at the time and he said ‘I don’t feel comfortable with you joining that club, what if you meet someone in this club that you like more than me?’ …And so I didn’t join the club.

Insecurity 2

Some time later, I had a male friend that I worked with that I got on with like a house on fire. We were of similar age, had compatible senses of humour, had an interest in both reading and writing. What we also had in common? We both had a sexual attraction to men.

My ex had met this friend of mine. He may have also bumped into this male friend of mine and his boyfriend when we were out to dinner one evening, I can’t quite remember. He was very knowledgeable of the fact that my friend is gay in any case.

But my ex was jealous of our friendship. He didn’t like that there was such humour and laughter between us. That my stories about work were of the drudgery of the work and how this one friend got me through it. So when my male friend asked if I wanted to go to a (Madonna) concert with him free of charge because his boyfriend had to work and he had a spare ticket, my ex said he’d feel really uncomfortable with me going out with a man that wasn’t him. …And so I didn’t go to the concert.

Insecurity 3

I’ve already written about how I found out that I’m bisexual but after I realised that about myself, I thought …this feels important to me. It feels big. I know (and I knew then) that I would never be able to share my bisexuality with certain people in my life. I had a small window of time where I could have told my dad before he died, but I couldn’t face the (very realistic but sad) realisation that he might not have accepted me if I’d told him. More than likely he’d have said something disgusting and I didn’t want that. And I knew/know that my mother would similarly not accept me or understand if I told her. So I haven’t. Both my parents are a bust in this respect.

But at the time, I thought, I can’t just let this pass me by. I didn’t want to pretend like it didn’t exist. Not with the people that should or did care about me the most. So, even though it was really difficult, I decided to ‘come out’ to my ex. It was scary and huge and I felt an enormous amount of anxiety about it, worrying about his reaction, what he would say. I mentally rehearsed, I had a speech prepared. I didn’t know when I was going to say it but I figured the right time would happen and I’d just know.

In the end, we were in our bedroom talking about our days. I don’t remember what conversation was about before I brought it up. But eventually I said there was something I wanted to tell him. I put a smile on my face and just said it. It felt like relief to have the words in the air between us.

Until his response. Which was ‘Does this mean you’re going to leave me for another girl?’ and at the time I felt crushed by his response but I didn’t recognise it.

It was only much later that the hurt crept in. Then the anger. Not just for that response but for all of it. That in all these situations, it was his feelings and his insecurities that came before my own. Before my excitement about a new hobby, before my friendships, before even my own identity.

And I allowed it at the time. I hadn’t ever had experience of me being allowed my own feelings. But I know now. And I definitely deserve more. Of others and also of myself.

No comments on The Weight of Insecurities
Boundaries

June 12, 2025

dating

One of the things I’ve struggled with during this whole journey is setting and maintaining healthy boundaries with other people. I struggle with getting my own needs met and carrying on with those who don’t consider my needs. In fact, at times, I struggle to keep in mind what my actual needs are.

I feel like I’ve been conditioned my entire life to put the needs of others before my own and if anything, to squash what I need to almost nothing. It’s always been more important to please others and if that brings a little bit of discomfort to myself, no big deal.

It was only during some therapy sessions that I had a few years ago that I really understood the extent of how much I’d shrunk myself down. And since then, I do sometimes have my (very lovely and helpful) therapist’s voice in my head. She’s like the little angel on my shoulder reminding me that it’s okay for me to exist in the world, it’s okay that I’m putting my needs first, she reminds me that it’s not my responsibility to maintain the wants and needs of others.

And I have varying amounts of success from this. But I bring it up with a specific example. I had this friend that I met last year. He was very friendly and open with me, we went through an extended period of getting to know each other. We met in a board game cafe, a normal cafe. He and I discussed a great number of things. Yes, we had sex, but that almost felt secondary to our friendship. He’s married but in an open, ethically non monogamous relationship with open communication. It was all above board. We talked about this quite a bit in fact, how they both reached that decision and it was very interesting.

Once, last October, he had mentioned that him and his wife had been going through some difficulties around their open marriage and that it was causing some conflict. I was sympathetic, offered him the chance to talk about it if he needed and asked if it distraction would be better – I’m great at sharing cute dog videos and funny stories if that was preferable. He laughed and said a mixture might be just the thing.

Except he ghosted me after that. There were no further communication at all. At least not until about a month or so ago. When he popped up as though nothing had happened, that the months long gap of no messaging wasn’t a thing at all. He said he had quite a bit to update me on, would I like to meet up sometime for coffee? Reluctantly, I agreed. My social conditioning, you’ll remember puts me at a disadvantage here.

We met up for that coffee, he explained what had happened in the months of silence and he acknowledges those months too. ‘Of course, in that time I couldn’t message you – and you understood’ was something he said to me that niggled at me when he said it and afterwards. But I didn’t understand. He never said specifically that there would be no contact, in fact, I had offered a communication style and he had agreed.

When I finally understood that how I was feeling was hurt and angry, I told him so. To his utter bafflement. ‘I wasn’t aware that I could hurt you,’ he had said. Which I think just reassures my decision. That someone so clueless and unconcerned about my feelings and expectations is not someone that I want to spend any more energy on. I blocked him.

My therapist would be proud. I had a feeling, I expressed that feeling, I followed through on a decision to put myself and my emotional needs first. Long may it continue.

No comments on Boundaries
First Conversation

June 11, 2025

dating, relationships

There was something about you right from the very first conversation. Before you deleted your Tinder profile, I used to go back to read that first conversation all the time. To see if there was some clue in those words, something that might signal to me that I was meeting someone I’d fall madly in love with.

I loved how open you were right from the beginning. How much of yourself you gave me, a complete stranger at the time. Your kindness and consideration. Conversation was interesting, it was funny. And with just a few messages I could tell that you and I would get along fantastically.

I still have that first picture you shared with me, did I ever tell you that? I should have deleted it by now, we’ve been broken up for well over a year but I can’t. I love that picture too much, you in that jumper, your hair longer than I’d normally see you wear it, the barely there grin. When I saw it, I gasped. It’s such a man thing to do to just take a picture like that. But I loved then and I continued to love how easy it is to take a candid picture of yourself. Like you’re that comfortable and aware of what you look like that you think ‘this is me’

I don’t remember everything we talked about in that first conversation. But I found it interesting that conversation only last a couple of days before we moved it to another platform to message. It was like I knew then that you were worth breaking all my rules for.

And you were. I don’t have any regrets.

No comments on First Conversation
Swingers Party

June 10, 2025

sex

During my ‘saying yes’ phase, I said yes to going to a private swingers party. The idea of it had come up before when I was still with my ex and I quickly discounted it as being too out there for me. So when an opportunity came around again … my initial thoughts was still ‘no’ but in its favour that the party fell on a day that is particularly hard for me and I knew I’d need distraction. Plus, I wanted to say ‘yes’ to more things! So I did.

The host of the private party was really good, he answered all my questions and was highly communicative. He assured me that whenever I got there he would introduce me to the other single women there and some of his own personal friends that would look out for me when he still had hosting responsibilities. He even (the absolute chore of it!) let me send some different outfit ideas to get his opinion. We ended up building this interesting rapport beforehand and I really needed that to feel comfortable.

I was obviously immensely nervous. But on the night, I showed up not too early and not too late. I had been too shy to really look at the list of attendees beforehand or send any messages to anyone. I was really on a ‘I’m going to wing it’ mission. I felt like it was enough that I’d made it there. I kept telling myself if I took one step in and hated the feel of it, I’d just turn around and go back home.

But the host of the party was reversing his car into the driveway when I arrived and he yelled ‘IT’S YOU’ really excitedly when I told him who I was. And that kind of excitement to see me made me feel like maybe this wouldn’t be too bad? So even though the host couldn’t stay and chat, I made my way into the party. Everyone was crowded in the kitchen where all the drinks were mingling. I’m not a great mingler at the best of times so these parts were the hardest.

Thankfully, the other two single women at this party were lovely and welcoming and when they heard this was my first party, they really looked out for me. Led me from room to room, peppering me with questions. Talking about some of the previous parties, how some of the people knew each other. We ended up near a speaker listening to 90s pop music which, again, made me feel more relaxed.

I feel like the other people at the party were a little intimidating. They were all couples and seemed very coupley and they mostly chatted amongst themselves. Aside from the two women, one of their (male) FWBs and the host, I didn’t really interact with many other people. But that was okay. Baby steps into the big scary thing.

The weirdest thing that happened at this party was that we got talking to this man that had the largest, heaviest penis piercing I’ve ever seen. It’s seriously looked like it weighed at least 5lbs. Just hanging off the end of his penis like that. I think he actually rested the piercing in the pocket of his jeans and I don’t blame him. Sadly, neither he nor his partner were able to answer my questions in a satisfactory way for me so I wandered away from them.

The layout of the house meant that downstairs was the kitchen and area for snacks and the large living room with music and plenty of places to sit. Upstairs was where all the action was. So I could stay in the safe zone if I wanted. Or I could venture upstairs to see what was going on. It wasn’t until the host came over to chat and he asked if I wanted to see upstairs that I really plucked up my courage for it though.

In one of the rooms a woman was bent over and being whipped by something. They were okay for me to watch for a bit, and I got invited to hit her once too but I politely declined. This room wasn’t for me.

In the next room, one of the single women (who was beautiful and curvy in the very best way) was on the bed being teased by the FWB I’d met earlier who had been really helpful. It felt like the host and I walking in interrupted whatever they were starting. But that interruption was used to … invite myself and the host onto the big bed for more sexual antics.

I’ll say that I wasn’t even hesitant at this point. I think I wanted to really throw myself into whatever was on offer (except flogging some poor woman, apparently) so I ended up saying ‘yes’ quite a few times to her, the FWB and the host. The FWB had a scary looking glove covered in spikes that he ran very gently along my ass to show that it really wasn’t as scary as it looked. It could be but only if I wanted it to be.

Another couple came in and casually started fucking in the sex swing that was near the bed. Others came in and just watched the sex display as the four of us changed positions and partners. I am never quite sure if I’m into watching others or being watched and I’m afraid I was never that aware of people watching enough to answer that question for myself.

There was a moment that I did feel mildly uncomfortable. Both the single women (and the host and FWB) all assured me that if anything were to make me uncomfortable to say so and things would stop. That everyone would respect boundaries etc. I think actually they were talking about men – that if men overstepped, I should say something. The person who actually overstepped was one of the single women. I was on the bed, bent over giving a blowjob when one of the single women leaned over me and swiped her tongue around my asshole.

The thing is, it actually did feel nice but I tensed immediately when it happened and had to turn to her to say ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not really into that’ And me saying that meant the two men on the bed went into recovery mode and had to check with everyone that things were okay and we all had another consent check. But things were weird between me and her after that. I don’t think women like being called out when they overstep.

Overall, I’m glad I went. It was terrifying to say ‘yes’ to and even scarier walking through the front door. It was hard trying to find my way into conversation and that was made easier by the friendliness of those around me. I feel like I took part enough for me to feel like I’d made the most of the experience and actually, when one of the women said she was leaving at 11pm I said I was tired too and left at the same time.

I read back on how I’ve written and described this party and I feel quite detached from the whole experience – it all happened and I actually did enjoy some of the sex that happened but I think the whole context of the evening set me on edge. I don’t think these types of parties are for me and at least I know that.

1 comment on Swingers Party