Going out with Mr. DD is unbelievably unpredictable, but sometimes it proves that freaky fun can actually be educational.
Mr. DD and I had been at a very vanilla holiday party for entirely too long. I had consumed several glasses of wine (probably several bottles), and I was eager to disappear to a much sexier atmosphere. While dinner conversation was pleasant and the Mr. was playing his professional role, I decided to spice it up a bit. Grabbing my cell phone, I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room.
With a little Frank Sinatra serenading from the speakers, I pulled up my dress, pulled down my hose, and kicked up my heels for a seductive selfie for the Mr. with my finger sliding under my lace panties. I sent him a quick text, picture attached, to let him know that I was had had enough of the vanilla vibe and was ready for some freakishly festive fun. With a devilish grin on my face, I pulled my hose back up and prepared to return to the table.
Sitting back down at our table in the midst of several hundred guests in the middle of an awards presentation, I quietly crossed my legs, curled my foot behind the Mr.’s calf, and placed my hand on his thigh, saying nothing but gently caressing his leg with both hand and foot. As a friend received his award, Mr.’s phone vibrated on the table, and I grinned secretly knowing what he was about to see. I knew the message would take a few minutes, as the signal in the building was mediocre at best. He politely pulled his phone into his lap and punched in his code to unlock it. He swiped down on the screen to see what the text notification was all about, and he elbowed me and looked at me quizzically when he saw that the text was from me.
I ignored him and joined in the applause as the award was presented. As everyone clapped, the Mr. gasped audibly and jerked the phone down into his lap. I giggled to myself as the coworker sitting beside him glanced down at his phone and asked if everything was okay. He smiled politely, indicated that it was a “family issue,” and turned to me to let me know that we needed to go “check on things.” I turned to look at him, his eyes and crotch bulging, and, pretending that he had food on the corner of his mouth, slid my finger into his mouth so he could taste me. He promptly stood up, draping his sports coat over his arm and in front of his pants so as not to alert everyone to the real issue.
We excused ourselves—the awards ceremony was over, so we weren’t completely rude—and called a cab. Standing on the curb outside the hotel, he let me know very quickly that he ought to spank me for such a text at a business function. I smiled naughtily at him and leaned over and licked his earlobe. The cab arrived, and as soon as the door closed, I kicked off my shoes and slipped out of my hose, leaving them on the floor as a surprise for the driver later. I draped my left leg over the Mr.’s and guided his hand between my legs. He moved his fingers, caressing my clit, and I struggled not to moan as he casually gave the driver the address of the club we were going to next.
The wine had made my whole body flush; I leaned my head back, closing my eyes and enjoying the feel of his circling fingers. He whispered in my ear that I should imagine that his finger was a tongue, forcing the corners of my mouth and my hips to curl up. We had about a forty-minute drive, and I struggled to maintain control as his fingers circled faster and then slipped inside me. His stiff cock restrained by his pants indicated that he was enjoying himself too, and by the time we arrived at the club, we both found it difficult to stand and regroup enough to go inside.
Inside the club, we both realized that I didn’t have any more alcohol (or social lube, as another writer here called it), but we found some friends we had met on Quiver who were happy to provide assistance in that arena. We greeted our new friends, introduced ourselves, and were promptly offered a drink.
Spotting the Fireball, I raised my eyebrows and asked if I could have a shot of it. Tina (not her real name, of course) grabbed the bottle, took a huge swig, and kissed me, the warm liquid seeping into my mouth from hers. She grinned as she pulled back from me and asked if I wanted another. When I responded, “Sure,” her husband did the same trick. Superhot!
We all danced for hours, and then I found the shadowbox! I ducked inside when one of my favorite songs began to play, and the exhibitionist inside began to emerge. With the light silhouetting me, I began my own little strip tease, touching myself and exaggerating my hip movements to the beat of the music. (This is one part of swingers clubs that I love: the freedom to dance and grind and even strip without reservations!)
I will also say that I get a little consumed by the exhibitionist side of me, and Mr. DD often needs to reign me back in a little. By about two o’clock in the morning, I was too drunk to dance anymore, much less play, so the Mr. and I returned to base so I could pass out.
The next morning, I awoke to the Mr. DD’s wonderfully stiff cock pressing into my thigh. I reached behind me and began to stroke him as he whispered, “You need to finish something you started last night.” I rolled over and kissed him deeply before pulling him on top of me.
The next weekend, we went out again for more freakishly festive fun this time at our usual stomping grounds, and we met several couples, some we already knew and some who were new to the lifestyle scene. One very young couple was just beginning to explore their sexuality and her bisexual interests, and we were thrilled that they were comfortable enough to ask us some very personal questions. They had been invited to a private room with two other couples and were a bit overwhelmed as the other four started fucking immediately.
“I just wanted to kiss and play with their beautiful breasts,” Bonnie explained to me. “I had no idea they were going to just go for it as soon as the door shut.” Mr. DD and I both chuckled because we had been in the same unexpected situation before, and we shared with them our “Huddle” protocol (that’s another article, if you’re interested and haven’t read it yet). We explained to them the importance of being open and honest in what their expectations and limitations were, and when they voiced concerns about offending someone, we told them very frankly that most people in the lifestyle appreciate honesty and are generally not offended by limitations. I also added that it is okay to indicate that he/she/they don’t find someone sexually attractive, and if someone IS offended by limitations, they don’t want to go there anyway.
During this conversation, I explained my process of discovering my bisexuality and asked if it would be okay if I touched her. She looked at her partner for approval, and after receiving it, I began to caress her gorgeous curves, her hips, her tight ass, and her beautiful, firm, round breasts. I took one of her nipples into my mouth, my tongue circling, and she moaned. I didn’t want to pressure her since she had been freaked out, so I asked each time I wanted to progress. (Mr. DD continued to talk about the Lifestyle while he and the other Mr. enjoyed the show.)
I asked if she wanted me to go down on her, and she said yes, but that she had never done that with another woman before. Again, she sought approval from her partner, who smiled and gladly consented, and oh, what perfectly premium pussy! She groaned and arched her hips up to meet my mouth, asking where I had learned to do that. Mr. DD chimed in quickly to let her know that I had learned it from him. She loved what I did and climaxed twice.
Afterward, they thanked us for our honest answers and patience, and we reassured them that we would be glad to answer any other questions with or without play.
All in all, I love opportunities for freaky play, but I almost like the opportunities to be myself and to explain the Lifestyle to people who are curious and want to learn more. After all, spicing up our lives and learning about and enjoying what it has to offer is what it’s all about.