Two Couples and a Hot Tub, Part 1

When Hubby and I were new together, he told me about a friend of his who lived nearby.  This guy and his wife, both in their mid-40's, were heavy into the swinging lifestyle.  At times, when she was in the mood for  some variety, she would call Hubby who was more than happy to oblige.

He told me stories of going to their home once a week or so to play with her while her husband watched. That part sounded a bit strange to me at the time, but whatever. Just as it started to sound like he was telling me that he planned to continue his weekly field trips, he asked if I would be willing to join in and do a swap with them.

At first, I balked, not because I minded the idea of a swap - I'd done that before - but because of the thought that I'd be getting the short end of the stick, so to speak. I'd met the couple once before, and my soon-to-be-Hubby was much more attractive than her very overweight, balding, yellow-toothed husband. When we swapped, she (let's call her Susan) would be getting my tall, athletic, gorgeous man and I'd be getting, well, let's call him Bud. On the flip side of the deal, my man would get Susan, who was not at all unattractive and they already had some chemistry together. Bud would get me - a slim 23 year old with long golden brown hair, perfect teeth and perky tits.  While I know it makes me sound shallow to say this, it seemed to me like everyone would be a winner in that swap except for me.

Hubby (we weren't married yet, but I'll call him that anyway) knew I was reluctant, but he won me over when he said I could play with Susan, too. I've always been a fan of large breasts and Susan's were very big and very lovely. I really wanted to touch them, suck them,and play with them so I agreed. Hubby set it up for that weekend.

When the day arrived, I was nervous. Would I be jealous seeing Hubby with another woman? Would I be able to pretend to be interested in Bud? I told Hubby about my concerns and he dismissed them. He told me not to think so much.  Ha! He didn't yet know that thinking is all I do.  Still, he had a point.

We went over to their house and had dinner before playtime.  It was nice. We laughed. I relaxed. While Bud wasn't much to look at, he was funny and very easy to talk to. I could see what Susan saw in him.

After dinner, Bud suggested we go out on the back patio and get in their hot tub. I felt relieved. I've always loved hot tub sex.

We went outside and the air was cool.  The hot tub was already warmed up and bubbling.  When did Bud do that? I wondered. It didn't matter, but it was kind of weird. I saw Susan start to take her clothes off, so I did, too. I was naked first because all I was wearing was a sundress and panties. I threw my clothes on a chair and slid into the hot tub. Susan sat on the edge with her legs dangling in the water. Frankly, I'm not sure what Hubby and Bud were doing because my eyes were stuck on Susan. Her breasts were more beautiful than I had imagined - shaped like large melons and still very firm, not droopy.  Her skin was nearly perfect.

Hubby was behind me then and he whispered in my ear that I could go touch her. I'm glad he did because if he hadn't, I would have sat there staring for much longer. I stood on the step in the water and she spread her legs so I could come between them and get closer. She pulled me to her and kissed me.  It was a deep, wet, lovers kiss. As we kissed, I reached my hands up to touch her breasts. As I touched her, we both moaned. I heard Bud groan to the side of us.  That's when I noticed that Bud was on one side of us watching and Hubby was on the other.

I fondled her breasts and we kissed for what seemed like a long time. I was perfectly happy with that and probably could have just done that for the night, but then she broke from our kiss and put her hands on my head, very gently nudging my head downward. I found a nipple and started sucking on it fiercely.  She gasped. I pinched one and sucked on the other, then I changed it around.  I was perfectly happy with that and probably could have just done that for the night, but then she put her hands on my head again, very gently nudging my head downward.  I held onto her thighs and knelt on the step and started licking her pussy. It was trimmed, not shaved, and very wet. I found her clit and started flicking it with my tongue as I slid a finger inside her.

It was then that I noticed Hubby was out of the water and that he had taken my place sucking on her tits. I focused on her clit, which was very stiff by then. I hadn't had much experience with women at all, so I really didn't know what to do with it. I flicked it for a while, then I sucked on it. I'd read once about using your tongue to trace the letters of the alphabet on it, so I did that, too.

I was only on the letter M when I felt Bud's hands on my hips, lifting them up, making my legs straight so I was standing up and bent at the waist as I ate Susan, who was rocking her hips and moaning quite loudly now. He entered me from behind and completely filled me with a very, very large cock. I smiled as I traced the letter O. That was pleasantly unexpected. He started fucking me slowly. I started getting distracted from Susan, so I forced myself to focus. After each letter, I quickly sucked on her clit and then moved on to the next letter. I could tell she was close. Bud started pounding me harder. When I got to the letter X, Susan screamed, came, and pushed my face against her pussy. I had to finish the alphabet, of course, so she writhed as I very slowly tortured her with the last two letters. Then I was still, just keeping pressure on her clit as she finished.

When she had stopped moving, Hubby reached over and grabbed my hair, pulling my head back and up a little so he could lean over and kiss me.  My face was covered with Susan's juices.  He kissed me and then he whispered, "I love you."  I knew he meant it.

Hubby helped Susan shift over on the edge of the hot tub and then step in.  They both sat down and watched Bud as he was almost done fucking me. I wasn't ready to come yet, which disappointed me a little.  I knew it was because I had been so distracted with Susan.  But I knew Hubby wouldn't let me leave that night without making sure I was well satisfied.

Bud groaned as he came and his final thrust pushed me forward.  He grabbed my hips and held me back on him, and I could feel his big cock pulsating as he released into me.  He finally let me go and pulled out.  As he did, he said to Hubby, "Damn, she's tight!"  Hubby relied, "I know.  Great, isn't it?"

I dunked my head under the water to wash my face off.  When I came up, I saw Susan moving to straddle Hubby. He was looking at me.  He maintained eye contact with me as I moved across the tub to sit next to him.

To be continued........

This is the end of Part 1. Part 2 is right here.

Dear JJ

Dear JJ,

FYI. I really need a good hard fucking.

Love,
Kat

Kat Clarification - Fucking is not Dating

I was reading another blog recently that was discussing online dating. Specifically, the author was asking readers how many people they had met online and "dated." This is a pet peeve of mine, Prowlers.

Fucking is not dating. 

Let's discuss the difference.

What is dating? Because I only cite the most reliable sources, here's what Wikipedia has to say about dating:

"Dating is a form of courtship consisting of social activities done by two persons with the aim of each assessing the other's suitability as a partner in an intimate relationship or as a spouse. While the term has several senses, it usually refers to the act of meeting and engaging in some mutually agreed upon social activity in public, together, as a couple."

If you are connecting with someone at a hotel, getting a room, fucking yourselves silly, and then going back to work (or home), you're not engaging in a social activity in public as a "couple."  In fact, you probably go to some lengths to make it look like you are not arriving or leaving as a couple, right?

And you're probably not checking out each other's suitability as a partner or spouse.  That's what all of that scintillating email and chat was about.  By the time you're in the hotel room, you've already decided that your date fuck buddy is suitable acceptable not too bad, and you're in, so to speak.

As for their suitability as a spouse, if you're prowling you already have a spouse and you're probably looking for playmates who are not suitable to marry because they are already married or they are forbidden in some other way.  For example, bad boy who spends hours every day at the gym because he doesn't have a job and who drives up on a motorcycle might be perfect as a fuck buddy. He's hot (good fuck buddy trait), but he doesn't work (bad husband trait). He rides a motorcycle (potentially good fuck buddy trait - purrrr.....does anything scream "bad boy" better than that?...but wait, that's also a lousy husband trait. Uh....that's no family car....).

But can you date the same person who is also a fuck buddy? I'm glad you asked, grasshopper.  Excellent question.

When I meet a fuck buddy in a hotel, that's not a date.  But when I meet the very same honey out in public for lunch or coffee, it may or may not be a date.  What distinguishes the two?  Simple.  1) Is it in public? 2) Is there a purpose for meeting other than leading up to a roll in the hay? If both answers are yes, it could be a date IF you want it to be.

Let's complicate it further.  Is it a date if you're not fucking  and not planning to and both 1 and 2, above, are "yes?" No, that's meeting a friend. Now I'm wondering how intelligent people people with opposable thumbs can make this so complicated.

Here's an example. When I meet DauntlessD for lunch, it's not a date, either. Yes, it's in public and yes there is a purpose other than getting each other in bed.  Still, I have a heck of a time convincing Hubby that Daunt and I are not dating.  Here's how the last conversation on the topic went with Hubby:

Hubby: So, who pays?  Does he pay for your lunch or do you pay for his?

Kat: We each pay for our own.

Hubby:  So you go dutch?

Kat: You make it sound like a date, but it's not.  When you go out with Fred and you each pay for your own, do you call it "going dutch?"

Hubby:  No, but we're both guys.

Kat:  Oh wait.  He did pay for me once when I won a bet and he had to buy me fish tacos.

Hubby: Oh, so he does pay....

Kat: NO!

Hubby:  Ok, well who decides when you're going out?

Kat:  Whoever's hungriest? (I chuckle.  Hubby doesn't laugh.) It can be either one of us.  It doesn't really matter, and I've never really noticed.

Hubby:  Do you kiss him goodbye after?

Kat: No.

Hubby: Do you hug him?

Kat: Yes.

Hubby:  So you rub up against him.

Kat: Only if I'm really horny. (I laugh.  Hubby doesn't.)  Oh, come on now! I told you we're not dating.  We're not a couple.

Hubby:  What are you then?

Kat: Friends.  Friends having lunch.

Hubby: Huh.

And it's over until the next inquisition.

Here's the really important question - Why does this matter?

Dating comes with all sorts of expectations and societal norms. If someone dates you a couple of times and doesn't want to see you again, you get to deal with the angst of figuring out if there was something wrong with you.  Why did he dump me? Did I say something wrong? Am I not pretty enough, smart enough, good enough?

Since Prowlers are not shopping for spouses, who cares?  Who needs all that?

If you can just understand that fucking is not dating, you can release all of those issues and appreciate it for what it is - a sexual encounter, or a series of sexual encounters. It's pleasure and excitement and danger and fun. It could end tomorrow for any of about a hundred different reasons, but most of those are not worth worrying about.

Now, I don't think there is such a thing as a relationship that has no strings (and I don't consider a one night stand to be a relationship), but there's string, there's twine, there's rope, and there are various types of metal chains. What I'm saying is that those of us in the relationship should get to decide what it means and how much attachment there is, not an arbitrary standard associated with "dating."

So, are we clear?

Fucking is not dating.....

.....unless you fall in love.

Then it becomes something else entirely.

The First Ten Minutes and Two Feet

I was in the room first, and I had plenty of time to change into a black negligee (no panties, of course!) and prepare for his arrival. After I was ready, I had nothing to do but sit and wait, and think about him.

The knock on the door was a welcome sound.  I moved quickly to open it and let him in, standing behind the door so the housekeeper in the hallway cleaning the room across the hall wouldn't see me. He took my breath away as he stepped into the room, and I wondered how that could be possible every single time, but it was. Tall, handsome, perfectly dressed for work, and smiling at me - exactly as I envisioned him throughout the week between our meetings, but now he was here in front of me.

Before the door closed, I stepped around the door, catching a quick glimpse of the maid looking over at us, and put my arms around him as I stood on my tippy-toes to kiss him. Kissing him was like a drug.  I could never get enough, and it was the thing I fantasized about most when we were apart.  After a moment or two, I reached for the door with my foot to swing it shut, not breaking from our kiss so I wouldn't break the focus of the moment.

It wasn't long before I reached down to unbuckle his belt, unfasten his pants, and reached in to feel his hard cock.  He moaned as I slipped my hand around it and started stroking it, still kissing each other deeply, wanting each other badly.

I slipped his pants and undershorts down over his hips, squatting down as I did so I could take his hardness into my mouth. He leaned back against the wall and pressed his hips forward, offering me all of it for sucking and stroking. While I was squatting in front of him, I could feel the cool air on my exposed pussy, and I couldn't help but wish there were two of him - one underneath me for me to ride while I was sucking on the other one of him.

But there was only one of him, of course, and I was stuck with that dilemma I faced every time I was with him. I loved the feeling of his cock in my mouth, sliding against my tongue and probing the back of my throat.  I loved how it got even harder after I thought he couldn't get any harder. I loved the way he caressed my head and petted (and sometimes pulled) my hair and moaned with pleasure. But I also loved the way he felt as he entered me, taking me - sometimes gently, sometimes roughly - pressing all the way into me and then fucking me like only he could.

I knew he had a similar dilemma that played out every week, as well. He'd say he wanted to be inside me, and I'd say, "How do you want me?" In the silence of the pause that followed, I knew he was struggling with the decision - Pussy?  Ass? Mouth?  Sometimes, he'd postpone the decision and put me on my hands and knees, moving behind me and rubbing his cock up and down my wet slit until it seemed to make the decision for him, sliding in wherever it apparently wanted to.

So, after a few minutes of sucking his gorgeous cock, I'd made a decision.  I wanted him inside me.  I stood up and kissed him again, then I motioned toward the bed and said, "Let's go over here."  As I stepped toward the bed, he grabbed my arm, pulled me back, and said, "No. Here."

Still only two feet from the door, he kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, turned me around facing away from him, and pulled my hips back against him as he leaned back against the wall behind him.  I bent over and leaned against the wall in front of me as he easily entered my pussy from behind and started moving his hips slowly. He told me to lean back against him and I felt him even deeper.

I could hear the maid outside talking to someone else in the hallway, which meant she could also hear me moaning and begging for him to fuck me harder, but I didn't care.  All that mattered was him and whatever he wanted right at this moment.

As hot and amazing as the moment was, we had our splashes of comedy, as we always seem to have.  Every now and then his cock would slip out of me, usually just as I was about to cum, because I was so wet.  All that extra time waiting and thinking about him had made it like a slip-n-slide down there, which was good of course, but it was also a challenge in this precarious position.

Then there was the light.  He was leaning against the wall right where the light switch was, so as he moved while he was fucking me, he'd accidentally flip the light switch on...then off....then on again a little later...and off. I'd laugh and move forward a bit and then - slip - oops! - he'd pull me back and slide inside me again, which would completely refocus me, until the light switched on - or off - again. LOL. Having a lover with ADD can be a challenge, as he has learned.

Eventually, I could feel the pleasure start to shoot up my back and nothing could have taken my focus away at that point.

He groaned loudly, grabbed my hips, and thrust into me deeply and forcefully, and.....

Well, you know.....

We had another three hours together that afternoon and a king size bed and large hotel room to use, but the tone was set by that first ten minutes and two feet.