Something remarkable happened last night. Ever since, I have felt my soul meandering in the neighborhood of the verge of joyful tears, as if there are undercurrents - waves of deepest happiness in my psyche - that are rolling through me and nudging me towards an emotional release but never quite shoving me over the edge. I feel moved, stirred, and deeply satisfied. And that is because, only a few days after my 40th birthday, I had sex with the second woman I've ever had sex with in my entire life. And she was very, very sexy. These are my reflections on an electric, erotic evening with Spice Girl. Part one.
When I think about having sex with someone else, there is something that I deeply hope will precede the actual encounter. I want my prospective partner to know about me. Not talking about the trivial stuff. The real stuff. My story. My emotional tender points. And I think that is because I expect that many women will, upon learning these things, somehow lose interest in me. If I show my weakness and appear less like the Marlboro man, will they still want me? I want to know that, if they jump my bones, it was not because they were ignorant of my fragility and imagined me to be some cowboy I am not. I like the real me - my weakness included -, and if I am going to have any kind of sexual intimacy with them, I want them to like the real me, too. So, it was very special that, as my wife and I had dinner with Spice Girl and her husband, we were able to share those stories about me, what it was like to grow up in a conservative Catholic home, the beliefs I developed about sexuality and women. Spice Girl listened intently and compassionately to the whole tale. By the time dinner was over, I felt known.
Of course, from the moment I saw her, I was taking her in. It wasn't like a conscious evaluation or assessment, but my soul was assimilating to her, trying to find compatibility. I had come to this meeting already finding her sexy. My wife and I had seen pictures of her, and she looked quite attractive in pictures. But I found her even more appealing in person. Some things are only perceivable in person. She had a charming softness to her personality. She had a kind spirit. Something about her voice when she spoke and her laugh was drawing me in.
At dinner, she flirted a little, dropping hints. My wife and I were talking about how little previous sexual experience I had. She responded with a playful, "maybe we can do something about that later." Oh, I so appreciate a woman who will do that. I am so shy when it comes to sexual courtship. Even when she dropped the hints, I had nothing particularly clever or even validating to say back. I probably blushed. My heart skipped a beat when she said it. I felt tongue tied. I wonder if I looked as though I were put off by those comments, but I wasn't. Quite the contrary. I was absolutely hooked by them. I so hoped we would do something about it later. I was so glad she was hinting that maybe we might.
After dinner, we met them at a sex club. By that point, I was feeling just a little bit of permission and courage, so I asked if I could sit next to her, and she welcomed me to do so. In this club, she was a focal point. So many people wanted to talk with her. It would have been so easy for me to immediately feel like "Who am I kidding? Look at all the options she has. She's not gonna wanna do anything with me." And I probably would have felt that way, but she continued to do subtle things to encourage me that I was not forgotten. As she talked with another very attractive woman, she reached over and put her hand on my leg nearest to her, rubbing it softly, moving her hand to the inside of my thigh. It wasn't overly aggressive, but it was intimate, and it reassured me that, even though she was busy talking to others, I was on her mind, and the move of her hand to the inside of my thigh laced that reassurance with some sensuality. That was meaningful for me. I'm used to being really good at being platonic friends with women. I excel at it. I am not at all accustomed to women being interested in me sexually. If they are, I never perceive it. But the hand placement was just clear enough for me. Something so small, but it meant so much.
So, I wanted to do something small in return to signal her back. While she talked, I stroked her arm softly. And that was something really exquisite to me. Her skin was so very soft. Her arms had such a nice toned shape to them. It was more than a little surreal to me in a wonderful way that this very sexy, soft woman was sitting close to me, sending little cues that she was interested, even acting like, at least for tonight, I was kind of like her date.
Then a moment came when she wasn't being engaged by others. She turned to me, snuggled up close, talked in her soft, sensual voice. It was electric. Our hands were sweeping softly over each other as we talked. Her hand was on my thigh. Mine on her shoulder and arm. I asked if I could touch her breast. She invited me to do it. I did. Oh god, it felt so good. She has really fantastic breasts. Really rare and special. They are totally natural, soft, beautifully shaped, and large - larger than she would like, I learned. She said everyone only ever notices her breasts. I can see how that would get old, and at the same time, I can see how everyone is so mesmerized by them. It's just not that often that you find natural breasts that look and feel so full, so soft, so round. And she let me touch them. First over the outside of her dress. Then she said to me, "if you want to, I'll let you reach in and touch them skin to skin."
WAS THIS REALLY HAPPENING TO ME?!
How wonderful to be offered that. So, I did slip my hand down the front of her top and felt them. Her skin on her breasts was, like her arms, so incredibly soft and touchable. When I touched her nipple, it began to get hard and she moaned softly. I could feel my heart beating harder in my chest. Then we kissed. It was scary at first. I hadn't kissed anyone other than my wife in the 16 years I've been with her. It was soft. I was trembling inside. And I had a moment of fear, wondering if my wife would truly be ok with it. So, I pulled back. I explained to her that I wanted to check in with my wife, and I wanted to include my wife. After all, for my wife and I, this is very much about sharing the experience, and I wanted her to be able to see what was going on. My wife gets aroused by thinking about me with someone else. If something significant was going to happen, I sure didn't want it to go down without her there. So I shared with Spice Girl what I had in mind. I told her I was thinking it would be cool if we went up there to where our spouses were, and while they were playing pool, I got down behind her and gave some attention to her hips. And even though she had given me every indication to that point that she was open to me sexually, I still had a split second that felt like an eternity between my little proposition and her answer. In that minute space, I felt fears erupting inside of me, "Oh, God, what if she thinks that's a terrible idea? What if she thinks it's gross or disrespectful or too forward?" I was so relieved and delighted when she enthusiastically said she would be glad for me to do whatever I wanted. And regarding my need to check in with my wife, she was more than understanding. It was like she was fully tuned into the fact that my wife and I were both very new to this, needed sensitivity and patience. She was immediately supportive, so we went to look for our spouses who had gone upstairs to play pool.
Halfway up the stairs, we ran into them. I wanted to immediately confess to my wife what had happened and make sure she was ok, so I told them I had touched her breasts. My wife smiled at me, but I wanted to make sure, so I whispered to her, "Are you ok?" And she assured me she was doing fine. So, we made our way back to the pool table where my wife and her hubby started a new game. Again, Spice Girl was bombarded with people wanting to talk to her, but by this time, I had started to feel comfortable that she was genuinely interested in me, so I waited patiently and tried not to worry that I would be forgotten. After she was done talking, she came over to me and again reassured me I had not been forgotten. What a wonderfully sensitive and considerate woman this was!! She stood in front of me and took my hands to wrap them around her waist. We watched our spouses trading shots on the pool table, flirting and exchanging pecks on the lips. It was such a fun atmosphere. So unconventional for me, forbidden in the belief system of my youth, but exciting and fun.
Then I asked if it would be ok for me to do the thing I had proposed earlier, and she said yes. So, while she stood there, I dropped down to my knees behind her, and began rubbing her legs, kissing on them and licking them. I absolutely loved it. I think a woman's body is really the single most fabulous aesthetic and sensory experience in all of nature. Especially, of course, if it's a fit, curvy, beautiful body, and Spice Girl had that in spades. Like her arms and breasts, her skin on her legs was deliciously soft, yet her legs were firm and fit, beautifully shaped, as thought they had been sculpted by a master artisan. She was wearing very sexy heels which made her calves, thighs, and hips enticingly taut. I rubbed my hands up and down the length of both of them, feeling their firmness and the softness of her skin.
Then I lifted her dress just a little to reveal the cheeks of her ass. Oh, that ass. It was divine. Her cheeks were perfectly shaped, smooth without a single dimple in them, soft and curvy. I was again having that "IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING?!" feeling as the blood in my veins was on fire from the excitement. I could almost feel the endorphins lighting up my cranium. I began to kiss those lovely cheeks. And suck. And lick. Oh, it was heavenly. And I ran my hands up and down the front of her thighs, pulling slightly to move myself into her. I could see, just between her thighs and below, her perfect little pussy. It was completely hairless. There was not even a hint of stubble. I guess she must have waxed it, because it was completely smooth, soft, and truly lovely in appearance. I found myself longing to bury my face in it, but I couldn't quite get to it from behind. I was pressing my head into her, reaching with my tongue to get to it. My tongue was tracing the crease on each side in between her ass cheek and thigh, hoping to slide somehow inward towards that delectable pussy. I hoped that she could feel my ravenous appetite that had erupted inside of me, craving her pussy.
Finally, I asked if I could come around to the front. She agreed, and so I came around and lifted her dress. There it was. In a moment like that, what to do? Part of me wants to sit and simply admire the sight of such a beautiful pussy. The other part of me yearns to dive face first into it's soft, warm folds and bathe in its wetness. But I didn't want to be too hasty. Better to savor something so exquisite. So, I went from left to right, slowly licking the outside of each outer labia. I loved the feel of my tongue against its softness. Then I moved in to the center, sliding my tongue into the soft slit to reach to those warm inner labia and her clit. I was met with both warmth and delicious wetness. I gripped firmly on the back of her thighs just beneath her ass and pulled myself in again. Oh, I wanted this so much.
But we had started to garner the attention of onlookers, and it was souring the experience for her. I had become so lost in the glory of her pussy that I had been completely unaware of the surroundings, but she brought me back to it with a gentle tug, and I stood to face her. She whispered in my ear that she was enjoying it, but the attention from gawkers was uncomfortable for her. There was something very precious about that. It was rather wonderful to be on the inside of her circle of trust, to be included in the knowledge of her comforts and boundaries, and I felt sure that we would find time in a more private place later to resume what I had started.
----
"I'm ready for another drink," said Spice Girl. My wife, Spice Girl, her husband, and myself escaped the growing collection of gawkers by exiting the game room and heading back downstairs. As we came out of the stairwell, the sounds of Rihanna's "S & M" beckoned us to the dance floor. "I like it, like it. C'mon. C'mon." The thumping of the bass seemed to be shaking the support beams of inhibitions and reservations, so that, at any moment, the evening would come crashing down into uncontrollable hedonistic lust. As we took the dance floor, Spice Girl and I moved in close to each other. I pulled her sexy, curvaceous body into me, so that her breasts were pressed against my chest. My hands moved all over the back of her body, down her back and over her fantastic ass, gripping her cheeks in my hands. She raised one leg slightly, straddling my leg, and began to grind her pussy against it.
Our lips met, and we began to make out, opening our mouths to each other as our bodies mashed together. Our tongues ventured out and found each other, and as my tongue touched hers, I felt an explosive lustful energy come from her body, as though she were the epicenter of an orgasmic earthquake, and my body was being wracked by the shock waves. She plunged her mouth deep into mine, sucking my tongue with a ravenous force, and then retreated back slightly to the passionate dance of open mouths and tongues dancing around each other. Then the song changed. Nine Inch Nails "Fuck You Like An Animal" coursed through us and set her aflame with a whole new level of intensity. She whispered in my ear huskily, "I love this. It's like vertical sex. I want you to fuck me right now." Her nails dug into my back as she raked her hands across it. Then, I did something I didn't know I had it in me to do. I took a fistful of her hair on the back of her head, pulled her head back, and began licking and sucking around her ear and neck. "Yesss!! Pull my hair!" she said breathily. Her neck was taut. Something about it being stretched and exposed to my mouth was incredibly electric. I'm not a vampire, but I can see how it might be appealing. I gripped her tightly as we resumed sucking each others mouths. We were nearing the edge.
She was ready for that drink, so we headed to the bar. My cock was rock hard in my pants, and I wanted her to feel what she had done to me, so I pulled her close while she waited for her drink and whispered in her ear, "feel this." I took her hand and stuck it down the front of my pants. She took hold of my cock and, again, released a powerful pulse of passion from her core, groaning with pleasure and gripping my cock tightly. "I want this inside me," she hissed as she moved her grip up and down my hard shaft. Her drink came, and she released my cock.
We returned to our table where my wife proposed that we all go upstairs to a private room. Hands held. Moving swiftly. I felt as if I were skipping. Could this be happening? This woman was so sexy. Her body was a work of art. Her sensuality was intoxicating. I was thrilled. I was nervous. She was, in my mind, so far out of my league. And yet my wife and I were moving towards a private room with Spice Girl and her husband.
When we found a room and went inside, I felt a lump in my throat. What do I do? It was if, suddenly, I had no idea how to have sex. The immensity of the moment, the surrealness of being in this room with such a gorgeous creature - I was a bit overwhelmed by it. But we had done well kissing on the dance floor, so it seemed natural to return to that. As my wife and her husband found a seat, our lips returned to each other, picking up from the tremendous momentum of just a few minutes earlier.
Then, as though I were in a Playboy video, this voluptuous vixen stepped back, reached her arms around her, grabbed for her top, and lifted it up over her head and off of her body. It was the kind of visual that you would want to be able to pause, rewind, and play back in slow motion. God, she was gorgeous. Her frame was so lovely, and her breasts so fantastic. As she lifted her top over her head and stood there in front of us topless, I struggled to catch my breath. It felt like a near death and gone to heaven experience. She returned to me and asked playfully why I still had so many clothes on. She began unbuttoning my shirt, and I helped. Then she dropped down with sudden intention and began unfastening my pants. She took my cock out and began to suck it. I felt a warmth in my chest. How could it be that this gorgeous woman was taking my cock in her mouth? Even though I knew she had done this many times before with lots of other cocks, I still felt lucky to somehow be one of those who found the inside of her mouth. She only sucked me for a minute before she said, almost demanding, "I want you to fuck me," and she laid back on the cushion, spreading her legs.
I hovered over her, looking down at her amazing body, her beautiful blonde hair falling down around her head. And I was charmed by how small she actually was. Somehow, I hadn't quite noticed until now.
I almost forgot the condom. She reminded me. I had to laugh at myself. I haven't put a condom on in, hell, years. I was fumbling with it, laughing at my own novice awkwardness. But I got it on.
I moved to her, slid my dick into her smooth, warm pussy, and gripped her waist with my hands. I don't know if my wife actually said this at that moment, or if I just felt it from her. She knows me. She knows how big a deal it would be for me to finally, after only having had one sexual partner for all these years, have my cock in someone else's pussy. But I heard her cheerful, celebratory voice saying "well, lookie there." I knew she was happy for me.
I put my hands on Spice Girl's shoulders and pulled her body into me, driving my cock deep in her pussy. Each thrust was slow, hard, and deep, and with each of them, she let out a deep, reverberating groan of ecstasy. I was grinding into her so tightly, my pelvis grinding on hers as my cock dug into her. Then I bent down closer to her to get my mouth close to her tits. I just had to have my mouth on them. They were so amazing. I continued to thrust my cock into her, pulling at her body, licking her breasts and neck.
It was amazing. And yet, it somehow entered my head that maybe I wasn't doing a good job. I don't know why. She gave all sorts of indications that she was having a great time. But my head started to get the best of me, and my erection started to soften. When I realized what was happening, my heart started to sink, and that only made it worse. Soon, I was slipping out, and I felt as though the most amazing experience ever was quickly sliding towards disaster.
I thought maybe it would help restore my hardness if we switched positions and I fucked her hard from behind, so I asked if I could do that, and she gladly assumed the position. I'm so very sad to say that I'm not sure I even was in the frame of mind to appreciate the fabulous ass that was presented to me at that moment. If I had focused on it, I think my hardness would have returned. I wasn't flaccid, but softer than my usual erections. I was still hard enough to get my dick in her pussy, though, so I put it in, and began letting my core muscles take over. I pounded her ass with everything in me, gripping her petite little waist. Smack! Smack! Smack! I was slamming against her and added the occasional slap on the ass. She sounded as though she was loving the forceful, animalistic fucking. And I so wanted to give it to her. She was so hot, so fine. She deserved to be fucked like an animal. But somehow I was focusing on my performance and believing it wasn't cutting it.
She started to dry out. In retrospect, I've experienced that with my wife as well when fucking from behind. I think the rapid moving of air in and out just does that. And we were directly under a fan. She mentioned that condoms sometimes do that to her. There were lots of possible reasons, but only one was in my head at that moment. She must not really be enjoying this. At that moment, I felt like Donald Trump talking to my penis, "you're fired!" I was mad at it, but I wasn't about to let this incredible woman walk away without a good time. I felt a surge of confidence and passion inside of me, because I knew what I was going to do. I may not be able to count on my dick, but there is one thing I feel good about, and that is what I can do to a woman's pussy with my mouth.
And it's not because I have fantastic technique. Maybe it's ok. But the reason I believe I can do amazing thing with my face in between a woman's legs is because I LOVE IT THERE. And I just believe that is comes through in the way I eat a woman's pussy. I knew she was about to feel just how much lust I had for her, something I had been unable to communicate adequately with my cock. So with her still on all fours, I pulled out, dropped down, flipped over on my back, and slid under her like a mechanic who was about to go to work on his favorite car. She giggled with glee and said something about how much fun I was. Ah, heaven!!
I gripped her ass with my hands, and pulled her beautiful pussy to my face. I was licking the outside of it with broad strokes from the flat of my tongue, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of her soft labia on the surface of my tongue. It wasn't long before I could feel the wetness returning to her fabulous pussy. I was in a frenzy. I don't know how many times I heard her say, "I'm going to cum again." There were moments of slow, soft licking. There was the feel of her clit in my mouth as I sucked on it. There were sprints of fast, furious friction where she thrust her hips wildly, fucking my face while I grasped her hips and pulled into her with all my hunger-driven might. There was the sight of her fit, fabulous frame as I peered up at her from between her legs. It was a swirl of ecstatic moments.
Then she moved to get on her back. I noticed, as she did, that there was a huge puddle of her wetness on the cushion. Somehow, I needed to see that. At that moment, in my heart, I was finally convinced that this was real. She was having a good time.
She laid back, and I continued to lick her pussy until once again, she said "I'm gonna cum again. Keep doing it just like that." I kept licking until she began to shake, slapping the mat with hand, yelling "shit" and "fuck" at the top of her lungs. My hottest fantasies could not measure up to this. As she climaxed, she lifted up her hands in a "slow down" sort of motion. I think, at that moment, her clit had become super sensitive from all the licking, sucking, and cumming, so I just pressed my face into her sopping wet pussy, and slowly bathed in it's juices, embracing her hips with the greatest of appreciation, while she released the last bit of cum and came floating back down from the heights of her climax.
I raised my head and just looked at her. She lay there in an almost catatonic state, her eyes closed, her lovely face painted with a dreamy smile, a songful sort of cooing coming from her throat. I just sat there between her legs, stroked her thighs softly, admiring her and a bit in awe of her beautiful sexuality and the encounter we had just had together. I reached for her, and pulled her little body up into my lap. She was straddling me with her legs, and her arms wrapped around my neck. She rested her lovely head of blonde hair on my shoulder, and continued to almost hum with pleasure. I held her, my arms around her, my hands moving gently over her back, just stroking it softly. It was a beautiful moment for me. Very special because the second woman I had ever had sex with wasn't running or making a quick, awkward exit. She just stayed there in my lap as we embraced and coasted in a softer stream of affection and euphoria.
Slowly, we all got up, got our clothes back on. My wife and Spice Girl's husband went to find bathrooms. Spice Girl and I stood in the hallway, holding each other, listening to the sounds of sex all around us. She giggled, still in a dream-like state. I continued to marvel at the sweetness of her arms around my neck, standing there, basking in the afterglow of what had happened. Our spouses returned, and we descended the stairs back to our table where their friends were waiting. I was a wreck. My hair was everywhere. One of the friends at the table laughed at me. It felt wonderful. Spice Girl had torn me up, and I couldn't have been happier.
I sat next to my wife. She looked at me lovingly, clearly delighted by the joy she knew I was feeling. She whispered in my ear, "can you believe it? you had sex!" I held her close. How lucky I was to have a wife who would support me and encourage me in this sort of adventure, who would celebrate with me and be happy for me. We rose to leave, embraced Spice Girl and her husband one last time, thanked them for such a sexy evening, and left holding hands, both of us deeply satisfied and joyful at the experience we shared.
----
I woke up this morning with the realization that I wasn't finished telling my story about Spice Girl and my experience with her, the second woman I've ever had sex with. I've recounted the details of the event, but I don't think I've adequately processed and recorded my reflections on the experience, what it means to me, and how it fits into my poly journey.
As I was reflecting on it this morning, two media items came to mind. One was
of Akon and Lonely Island singing "I Just Had Sex". It's comedy, but in spite of that, the lyrics are so deeply validating for me. As a guy, having that sense of amazement and awe that "a woman let me put my penis inside her." The sincere gratitude towards women who want to have sex..."nice of any girl ever". I love that the song has the feel of an anthem sung by others around the world. When I listen to it, I feel less alone with my own juvenile feelings about still being so inexperienced and awestruck by sex even at age 40.
The other media item is episode #68 of Life on The Swingset podcast, in which Cooper describes his poly experiment as "a way for me to sort of correct my perceptions of myself in a dating situation" and go's on to say "we were all fucked up by high school, but some of us carry it more than others, and I'm one of those people." That whole part of the discussion meant a lot to me. I do not think of myself as sexually desirable to a woman. It always comes as a tremendous surprise to me, something that I ache for, to discover that a woman wants me sexually.
Which brings me to Spice Girl, my epic second. She is a woman who, had I seen her out in the day to day normal scenery of my life, would have immediately inspired the thought "she would never want to have sex with me". She's very sexy. She has a fantastic body. She's the center of attention. I see women like that all the time. I am drawn in by them. My heart flutters. I wish I could find the courage to speak to them. I almost never find it. And it is always because I believe that they will immediately think I'm a perv, a sicko, unattractive, not tall enough, not handsome enough, not fit enough, not something.
I think I'm a pretty decent guy. I'm confident I can be a great friend to a female. I'm even pretty confident, thanks to my wife, that I can give a woman a good sexual experience were she to give me the chance. But I am so deeply convinced that a woman I find attractive will not want to give me that chance.
I would imagine that someone reading this will ask "why is your wife's love and attraction not enough for you?" And I believe the answer to that has to do with the painful beliefs I have described. They took their place in my psyche during my most formative years, became the foundation for my self-concept around women, and then I proceeded to build a life on top of them. Which gave those beliefs power - staying power. Untangling them now and re-writing those perceptions of myself in a world filled with attractive women is just not that easily accomplished. It is very easy for me to believe that my wife's sexual attraction to me is somehow an edge case, an exception to the rule, a fluke.
Not to trivialize her affection or say I don't appreciate it. I very much appreciate it. I am quite sure I would not have come to this place of having even a grain of self-acceptance or hope about my place as a sexual person among women had it not been for her. I was VERY lucky to marry a woman who is free in her sexuality, who loves to have sex with me, and who is genuinely attracted to me. All of that was powerful enough to crack a very strong belief system and give me cause to question the ideas that had haunted me.
But I'm a long way from over it or past it. If I lived on a remote island with my wife and never saw other attractive women, her attraction to me and affection for me would absolutely be enough. I would never have to encounter other women I am so attracted to and experience that inner struggle about them. But that is not the world I live in. I see dozens of attractive women every day, and every time, the mental gymnastics happen. "She knows your looking. She thinks it's gross. She would never want you that way." So, I still have work to do, and like Cooper said, this poly journey gives me a chance to work on those perceptions, discover a more balanced, real picture of how women will view me sexually. And to discover that just maybe, a woman would let me put my penis inside her. Maybe she would actually want it. And for me, a woman letting me into her vagina is a unique, cherished, still rare form of acceptance that I crave. I am used to a woman accepting and even welcoming me as a friend. I am even becoming more used to a woman accepting me in spite of my openness about being a sexual person. But those are tertiary to the acceptance I desperately long for. The acceptance I feel if a woman says, in one way or another, to me "I want you to fuck me."
And that is what Spice Girl said to me. And something about the whole evening, about her, about the chemistry between us...I believed her. And it meant so much to me because it's another cherished, still very early, piece in the puzzle of rewriting my belief system about myself.
Of course, I now find myself wondering "Why? What did she see in me? What made me sexually attractive to her?" And I think that is something about swinging that I don't care for. I may never get the answer to those questions. From what I understand, swinging isn't really about relationships. It's much more about casual sex. Poly on the other hand, is more about sexual relationships. And that is where I would more expect to have those conversations before and after the sex that I long for, be able to connect, communicate, and validate meaning to the experiences I'm having. Perhaps poly is a better place for me than swinging, but I'll forever be grateful for the monumental experience I had with a very sexy swinger, Spice Girl.
