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(Note to readers: Young city-dwellers Sherman and Kristi, and middle-aged suburbanites Brenda and Garth, have become a full-swapping foursome, in the same room, thus far F-M only. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older. Those situations can include anal, interracial, lesbian, and gay male sex, along with multibody braiding and chaining [MFM, FMF, etc]. Some of the sex is physically rough, but all of it is consensual. To find earlier chapters, click on my handle or the ‘stories’ link above. To my frequent readers: This story doesn’t have my usual upbeat tone.)
Chapter 5: Playing Without Toys
What happens on Wednesday nights, in the upstairs party room at Elmendorf’s Pub, is not what any of the participants would think of as a swingers’ club. It’s called SafeSpace2U. Organizationally, it’s a social outreach of an LGBTQ+ organization called Life’sGreatBeingTotallyQueer. SafeSpace2U’s mission statement (yes, there is one) is to provide a sex-neutral gathering for support and learning, especially for people who feel excluded from intimacy.
In practice, SafeSpace2U is a mingle, with plenty of hookups forged among even the most hectoring advocates and narrow-slice identities.
Yes, the organizations’ names are close to cringeworthy, but they weren’t already taken by other groups. The commonly accepted shortform is ‘Life’sGreat.’
Kristi and I showed up now and then, under the guise of Giving Back To The Community. We presented as a socially successful coupling of a bi woman and a straight man, also across races. We were sincere about this, but also secretly took a little guilty pleasure from observing the most ostentatious and (we believed) self-deluded attendees.
Yes, this means that I wasn’t Out to this crowd, nor to nearly all of the world. I kept my profile very low, chiming in mainly on how I, as a man, adjusted to and supported my spouse in her identity. I was allowed to do this, even by the gay men who were pretty sure about me, because I’m black. For many people, race outranks gender identity.
I keep saying to Kristi, and myself, that someday I’ll force the world to become aware of my bisexuality. That would happen after I’m much more established in my career, as a valued decisionmaker (so I’d be too visible to fire). Then, the impact of my revelation would do the maximum for the acceptance of bisexual men, bootstrapping others into the mainstream of American life. That’s the pose I’ve developed carefully during my adult years. It’s not self-delusion, it’s bertlahr (very old gay-speak for cowardly lyin’).
At SafeSpace2U, Kristi tries to plain-Jane herself. Her hair is tied back severely, and she shows not the slightest fleck of makeup. She wears a shapeless sweater and jeans, and no jewelry. She’s still a knockout, so what comes across is her effort not to pursue the conventional attractiveness with which she is gifted. She even dials down her personality, with a neutral expression, nearly always speaking only when brought into a discussion, and allowing the less confident attendees the space to gain the attention and support they seek.
Based on what I’ve seen and heard as these sessions ended–the exchange of glances, and hushed tones in brief conversations–my hunch is that nobody who showed up was excluded from intimacy, for the next few hours.
Kristi and I are always on the receiving end of such offers. We decline politely. Sometimes we’re interested, but Wednesday is a work night. Sometimes, Kristi exchanges contact info with a woman, who could later be a candidate for a morning request for a hall pass.
The morning after this visit to SafeSpace2U, however, Kristi’s topic was not her own adventuring, but my lack of it.
“Just askin’,” she said, turning to me with still-sleepy eyes. “How far up the corporate ladder do you need to go before you show your freak flag?”
“Two rungs,” I said, sounding more definite than I was. “District Manager.” That was bullshit. My workplace was barely ten years old, and had a save-the-world mission. I was one of five Project Coordinators in the district office. The corporate culture was genuinely inclusive. If anything, admitting right now that I enjoyed men’s bodies would check another box for that culture.
“Darrell keeps mooning over you,” Kristi said, referring to a hot young gay guy at SafeSpace2U.
I got out of bed and opened a dresser drawer. “Darrell never goes home alone,” I said, selecting underwear. “If I hooked up with him, his jilted supplicant would be abandoned, or forced down the food chain.”
“Not if you make it a three-way,” she said, almost chuckling. I turned to see her sitting up, arms raised and spine extended in a stretch. Venetian-sliced bands of dawn light were forced by her torso to curve around her. Damn, I hated having to pull fabric up around my junk.
“Darrell’s real jam is to be a recruiter,” I insisted, getting socks. “That mooning you see is based on him thinking that I’m a scared bicurious ankara duşta veren escortlar virgin, and that he’d be the one to introduce me to multi-masculine delights. I wouldn’t put on that act for him.”
“If you say so,” she said, losing interest in the topic. (Yay me, for making it tedious!)
Kristi left the bed and headed for the bathroom. “Someday,” she said from the hall, “I want SafeSpace2U to hold a retreat at some resort or other. Long enough for everyone to get talked out, and the event to turn into a full-scale Freakers’ Ball.”
The upcoming Saturday was our next fling with Garth and Brenda. In the approach to this, the email traffic reflected our antsiness, as we tried to find euphemistic ways to address what was being proposed.
Brenda started with this: “Have you ever looked into other ways to achieve similar goals?” She had appended this to her latest installment in a mind-food thread about dealing with anxiety in the modern world.
I returned with my own input on the thread, ending with, “I usually get good results with my current approach, but I’m receptive to others, including physical ways to achieve mindfulness.” It was good that I didn’t have to keep a straight face, while typing alone.
Kristi got in next, with “We have resources that we use now and then. We’d be happy to share them with you.”
So it went, until Garth stated, “We’ll definitely be ready on Saturday, to share and compare.”
And so, we surely hid from the world the plan to pass around our sex toys.
In fact, I have only a couple of butt plugs. Once in a while I insert one when Kristi and I bang, but I don’t get much of a thrill from that anymore. The cleanup is so annoying that I’m usually content to let Kristi’s fingers surprise my empty ass now and then. For herself, she has a knockoff magic wand, which she says works just as well as a name-brand. She also has a few dildos. As she puts it, some of them are ‘still’ and others are ‘sparkling.’
For this tryst, another excuse for the visit had faded away: There was no meeting at a restaurant. We welcomed Garth and Brenda with all of us having presumably consumed an evening meal.
Garth was toting a duffel bag. Kristi pointed at it and said, “Later, please. First we’d like the real you. Do you disagree?”
“Not at all,” said Garth, letting the bag clomp to the floor.
Brenda’s smile, as I closed in to embrace her, seemed more accepting than welcoming. Were our lovers tiring of us? Or was I trying to read body and face language based on a small sample of intimate encounters? Whatever, our fondling and garment removal soon took her to audible breathing and eager stroking. We distracted each other so much, that Garth and Kristi were hauling a loveseat towards the bedroom while we were still making out. We chuckled as we switched to the other furniture move, only half-naked.
In the bedroom, Kristi was already fingering and licking Garth’s package while rolling her crotch on his face. She was taking her own approach to address what we thought the suburbanites were feeling. She licked his whole length while driving fingers on and around his scrotum, and said. “There’s nothing in that duffel I want more than this.”
Brenda’s smile was brighter as she got a hand into my drawers and told me, “What she said.”
From that point, we sucked in a side-by-side swap that was almost as intense as our earlier tryst. Almost. Understandably, the second time wasn’t as mind-blowing as the first, and that would surely have been true even if our guests weren’t having second thoughts. Except in moments of receiving and giving wild ecstasy, however, I was alert to signs of those thoughts.
The swaps stayed a few inches apart. Both women were on top, because I had gotten on my back and Kristi had wrangled Garth to do the same. When Garth spewed from the blowjob, Kristi stuck out her blanched tongue as she leaned towards Brenda. “No thanks,” said Brenda, freeing her mouth from my tool. She then quipped, “He gave at my home office.”
Brenda and Garth were funnier than Kristi and I. And skilled at using wit to deflect what worried them.
It’s always good to add variety to lovemaking, I would have said if I’d needed an excuse. What I did was, take advantage of Brenda’s sensitivity in cunnilingus, to give her a level of sensation barely high enough for her to detect. She seemed to enjoy that for a while, as she worked over my boner, but then flexed her vulva on me, signaling impatience. When I could, I watched Kristi exploit Garth’s mouth and hands. I saw enough of her raised head to detect her clenched jaw, and cording neck. I knew she was cumming. Yet she was silent and kept swiveling, keeping him at work.
Then I was jolted by hard gulps from Brenda, as she took full control of me. I felt her lips graze my pubes, taking in all but a few millimeters, with a tight gullet squeeze on my glans. I gladly surrendered, to minimize her discomfort. After the second spurt she pulled back, elvankent fetiş yapan escortlar swallowing once, then letting the rest out to splatter my joyfully jittering hips.
She looked over at Kristi wobbling above a similar scene of yuckiness, and snarked, “Whatever happened to ‘she comes first?’ Men! Greedy and, and, c-c-cuh–“
I wasn’t fluent enough to get Brenda over the top at a moment’s notice. My cunt-lapping had merely reached that level for her, and she spasmed and wailed. I ground my face deep, gripping her thighs, so for a while I couldn’t see Kristi. When I could, she had finally stopped pretending, and relaxed, to the apparent relief of the sagging Garth.
“You got that right, Brenda,” hissed Kristi, rising and pivoting. “Let’s dominate these bums.” Her shift to cowgirl set the example, as four shaky male hands hurried to get condoms in place.
This was the key difference from the architecture of our first swap: Women were now side by side, riding high. Garth was the first to praise what he and I saw: “Oh yeah! Better than any porno!”
Kristi, however, had set a trap. After a minute or two of pumping and grinding and swiveling, with both pricks at max erection (thanks to youth, in my case, and to some sort of mutation, in Garth’s), and both pussies at strong squeeze, Kristi looked at Brenda and said, “I have a request.” She lifted a hand to stroke Brenda’s hair.
“I approve,” I said immediately, to show that I was in on this.
Brenda looked towards Garth, whose face I couldn’t see in detail. After a few seconds, Garth said, “So do I.”
After a few more seconds, Brenda, appearing to express only the effect of my fucking, rose up and leaned her torso at Kristi. Shaking her boobs side to side, she said, “Go to town, you dyke!”
Garth and I moaned at the sight of our stunning wives–one lush and curvy, the other sleek and serpentine–kissing deep, spreading the semen on their faces, embracing hard, mouths getting to nipples, fingers getting to clits. The previous climax kept me high on the brink of the next one for what seemed like forever, yearning to get my mouth on Brenda’s huge flesh pillows, yet glorying at the sight of Kristi gripping and slurping them.
Kristi came, delaying nothing this time, but continued to press her trunk on Garth’s, and lavish her bosom on Brenda’s. I figured Kristi would cum at least once more in this combination of her lovers, and again envy drove me. I sped and spun my johnson, and got Brenda to a wild whoop, and somehow forced myself back from the brink while still pumping. I got a hand between the compressed near breasts of the wailing beauties, and squeezed Brenda’s, giving me even more pleasure to endure. I recalled from last time her response to the combination of a firm grip around the dome with a grazing tickle of the areola. Unlike what I did with Kristi’s breasts, boning in Brenda’s pussy was the main force, and mammary play was a slight accelerant. Barely drifting down from her last climax, Brenda soared into her next. At long last, I released my own kraken,. The quick throbs of my cock shoved Brenda against Kristi.
Sensation drowned out awareness for an unknown time. Kristi’s wild o-yell brought me back, to the pleasant feel of limp Brenda’s breasts on my chest, and the unpleasant strain on and around my prick, slowly sliding out of her delectable depths. Finding energy from somewhere, Kristi wrested her cunt free and dropped prone onto Garth, kissing him with her hands clamped on his ears.
After a while, during which we did no more than breathe, Garth’s voice sounded. “You knew.”
“We had a hunch,” I said.
More silence. We moved around a little. There was some kissing. Men moved enough to remove condoms. We all had partial success with wet-wipes against spunk.
Kristi went into lecture mode. “Sex aids can bring lovers closer. In our case, they’d increase the distance. It was clear that you were worried about taking more steps.” She gave Brenda a sweet kiss. “That’s why I requested.”
“We are worried,” said Garth bluntly. “We’re in pretty deep with you two, and we aren’t sure we could resist, um, what could be in the next steps.”
Brenda followed, “We thought we might be able to bore you, if we stuck with what we did before. I think we could deal with you casting us aside as old fogeys.”
“But yes, of course,” said Garth, “we couldn’t resist you adding girl-on-girl. Hell, I was fantasizing about that in the golf tournament!”
“We refused to give up on you,” I said, sincere in content but not so much in voice tone, which I put on as deeply concerned. “We still hope to take more steps, and help you get comfortable with them.”
At once Kristi followed, “I want a spit-roasting,” to drive mental traffic away from whether F-F could lead to M-M. “Do you, Brenda?”
Brenda laughed. “I sure do. But not tonight, okay? Old fogey, y’know.”
To my eye, Brenda seemed back at full energy and alertness. But Kristi nodded etimesgut iranlı escort and said, “I hear you. My pussy’s still trying to figure out what happened to it.” She smiled at Garth, and fanned herself. She, too, could probably go again, but did look like she’d been through quite a workout.
With a smile, I said, “Now, we can at least look at our toys. Using them might not be necessary.”
We gathered our devices…with one exception. I didn’t show my butt plugs. Clearly Garth wanted as little group thought as possible about whether he was bicurious. I could deal, as long as I had access to Brenda.
Mostly, our guests put on a show. They had brought accoutrements as well as toys. Brenda donned stiletto boots, and showed her grace striding around in them. Her lacy black corset didn’t cover her breasts, merely raised them to ensure they’d be the first part of her to enter a room. Garth had some leather armbands, which he put on, and some cock rings, which he didn’t. I kept a straight face, but thought, Like HE needs that!
“So this is your fun at home?” Kristi asked with a smirk.
“Not anymore,” said Garth. “Fun for a while, as a hoot. But a grab-as-we-are is more spontaneous. All this became something else to hide from the kids. So we keep this stuff in a storage locker.”
“But not all the time,” I said, not as a question.
“No,” Brenda admitted. “We take it to our get-together out in the boondocks.” She reached into the duffel bag and pulled out a riding crop. “Accessories don’t have to be used, to achieve an effect.”
Brenda had a magic wand that wasn’t a knockoff. Both women investigated the external vibing from both devices. The men’s curiosity, bi or not, was enough to accept some wand contacts in Certain Places. Interesting. Not bad. But clearly, the wands had much better effects on the gender for whom they were intended. And both women seemed satisfied with both wands, with neither user seeking more than mild pleasure at that time.
As things were being put away, Brenda asked, “You ever tried a Sybian?”
“Nope,” said Kristi neutrally.
I found my phone and started searching.
Just before shower time I showed what I’d found. “There’s an adult novelties store in town that offers Sybian test drives.”
“Really,” said Brenda and Kristi in unison. My wife’s expression was not neutral.
As before, we showered in various shifting multiples. In the abstract I certainly enjoyed being sandwiched by wet soapy women–okay, having that much time to mess with Brenda’s tits wasn’t abstract–but the thrill was muted. They talked across me to speculate on a weekday lunchtime excursion to mount a device that could make me obsolete.
Chapter 6: Hall Passes in Passing, Roasts With a Rest
What Kristi and I could do with Garth and Brenda now had a spillover effect on how we felt about each other. It wasn’t that our one-on-one sex dissatisfied. Once we were banging, even in a relatively quick and limited session on a weeknight, we still merged into a World Of Two, in the way that helped convince us that we should get married. But when we weren’t banging, and even had vivid memories of the most recent bang, we were increasingly aware that there was Something Else. This gnawed at our resolve to stay career-driven and homebound.
Garth and Brenda went more than a month without scheduling with us. This might have been even worse for them. They were dealing with a stretch of extra parenting demands, and also tasks in their extended families. All four of us had a lot of trouble keeping our email chatter aboveboard. From what they said, however, we inferred that they had also skipped at least one session with their swinger crowd. So Kristi and I didn’t feel slighted as their side action.
Part of the problem, for me at least, was that we still hadn’t crossed all the lines as a foursome, even before getting to the issue of bi-sex. Except for a little messing around in the shower, we hadn’t gotten to threesomes. With a triad, the excluded person wouldn’t be left out completely. Watching the other three would provide learning and, I’m pretty sure, arousal.
I was going nuts, desiring to get what I wanted from both other-gender lovers at the same time. I’m sure this was true of everyone else.
On a Tuesday morning, the five minutes after the alarm were spent deciding that we’d set up separate offsite hall passes for the weekend. We don’t have pets, and the house plants can get through an overnight with an advance watering. During the week, we spent even more time on work, taking plenty home, so our own sex was reduced further.
Kristi’s tryst wasn’t deeply private. She hooked up with a woman who attended SafeSpace2U. They were discreet, but expected that some degree of awareness would extend through the organization. I had never been invited to join with them, because this woman had spoken of bad experiences with men.
I maintained deep cover, and stayed away from the SafeSpace2U population. I connected with a gay acquaintance who was both fond of and intimidated by me. He was white, and tended to be a twink. Yet we both topped and bottomed. I allowed that to seem like I was a generous, sharing lover, but I was definitely in the mood for an assfucking, and at full condomed erection he felt good and didn’t hurt.
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