Highland Park aka David FINALLY reached out.

This is what he wrote:

Dear You,

I hope things are going swimmingly in your world, or at least close to it.  I realized that, I think, I never responded to your last message about getting the kids together.  That was a pretty awesome thought.  I would like it if we could all hang out one of these days.  

Anyhoo, I am sort of anxious to find out about your new fantasy.  I like your eagerness for, as you put it, some next level shit.  On a somewhat bummer note, or at least an uncertain one at this point, the other night I asked my wife about her comfort level in terms how frequently we might see each other.  I don’t know that we necessarily need a set schedule, but I explained that I want to get a sense of where I stand in that regard, so I can give you a sense of where you stand, and then we all know where we stand, right?

Thus far, we have just been feeling things out case-by-case, which is fine, but I don’t want to be bringing it up all the time not knowing if it’s all right, and I don’t like that you are in a position where you are wanting something and not certain of how or when it’s ok to approach me.

Anyway, I asked what she thought – once a week, once every two weeks, once a month?  I was hoping at least once a week might work.  Of course she didn’t want to say right away and said whatever I wanted.  But, of course, I need to know what she is comfortable if I am going to be comfortable doing anything outside of our relationship.  She kind of said maybe once a month as that was about what how often she had seen her Beverly Hills dude.  That circumstance was different of course, but I didn’t push this any further and we had to cut off our conversation suddenly when our daughter came in the room.

That was Monday night, we had a friend over last night, and tonight she is sick and has been in bed since the minute she came home, so that’s kind of it for now.  I don’t want to kill any magic by going into the nuts and bolts of our home life, but I don’t want to keep you in the dark either.  I feel like that is the case too much already and I want to put you at ease as far as knowing what is up. 

I kind of feel like my wife and I don’t have things settled until we’ve talked about something more than once.  As I mentioned before, so much of our reactions to things are dependent on our mood or feeling in the moment before we’ve thought things through.  I know that’s the case with me, and I’ve certainly seen it with her also.  I know she is feeling a little disenchanted with her man options at this point, so I imagine she feels a little left out.  

We have a pretty unique and miraculous situation that I don’t take for granted.  She is down with that, can joke about it, tell me to go do it, but I know that she can’t, nor can I, really feel that way all of the time.  So… I will keep you in the loop, but I have to operate under the assumption that this is the case for now at least – once a month.  I cringe writing that.  Regardless, things are so good relative to all of this that I don’t want to jeopardize anything.  As difficult as it would be to give it up, I would stop the sex if it got in the way of us all feeling comfortable and having good vibes toward one another.

It’s also frustrating because I want to talk dirty, but of course I needed to bring this up.  So don’t hold out on me re. fantasy content, but let me know what you think in terms of the bigger picture here.  And, I want to thank you again for that incredibly thoughtful birthday message.  It meant a lot to me and I appreciate your kindness deeply.

Highland Park

To which I responded with this:

Oh Dear HP, 

I can’t thank you enough for your thoughtful and informative letter. I needed this, more than you know. If there is one thing that can spike my anxiety through the roof and off the charts it is not knowing where I stand in relationship to someone I care deeply about and want to connect with. There is a joke in Alcoholic’s Anonymous- How do you drive an alcoholic crazy? (beat) I will tell you tomorrow. Ha. Get it?? 

I don’t want to admit that I was up at 3am last night crying on my couch like a teenager because I hadn’t heard from you in days and I was missing our intensity and sexting and everything so much. Too much. I get it. I totally get it. Everything you said, everything you need to do. I cringed when you said once a month as well. A deep groin cringe. Deep. 

(I should be fair and note that I was also crying because my daughter slept in my bed last night and was coughing right at my head, which felt like someone yelling HEY at me at the top of their lungs intermittently, so I might have been a little fragile to begin with)

Which is why I contacted the tattoo artist and told him he had to fuck me. And soon. I need to widen my focus. I have a laser on you and it’s not healthy for me or you. I can get pretty intense. And I too, do not want to do anything to jeopardize what we have. It truly is remarkable and sensational on so many levels. I can’t imagine an opportunity like this will come around very often, if ever again. So I am happy to take once a month, I will  fucking take it and run skipping into the sunset or a field of daisies or wherever hippies go when they are happy. 

I want only what is best for all three of us, and will always try to be open-minded and understanding about what that needs to look like, which I envision, will change with time. 

Change is such a bitch when things feel really good and such a blessing when they feel bad, right? Ugh. 

Anyway, the tattoo artist is coming over tomorrow afternoon. I am interested to see what it is like being with someone after you. I can’t help but wish I was looking into your eyes while he fucks me, but alas, that is a fantasy I am not sure this sweet midwestern boy from Ohio is up to. I suspect he finds sex a tad too precious for that, unfortunately. 

Which brings me to my latest fantasy. 

I have been picturing you tying my hands to my headboard before blindfolding me. I am completely naked with my legs free but somehow my hands are tied in such a way that I can be flipped over if need be. And oh, I will need to be. 

With no warning, your phone rings. You answer it. Then you leave to open my front door. I hear hushed voices and footsteps coming into the bedroom. There is someone else here and I have no idea who it is, but you do. You trust them and have given them explicit instructions as to what you want them to do to me. It begins with both of you lying on either side of me. You kiss me first and start caressing my body. Then you turn my head towards him. I kiss him and begin to feel his foreign hands also exploring my body at the same time. While I am kissing him I feel your fingers start to open me up. I arch towards him and you kiss the nape of my neck. I am so wet and you are so deft and skilled. It’s incredibly frustrating in the sweetest way that I can’t use my hands to touch either of you. 

While I am turned arching towards him you slide down and get between my legs. You pull my hips down even with your face and begin to slowly run your tongue along the length of my cunt. It’s incredible, feeling so many different sensations at once. Your tongue and fingers in my pussy and his tongue and fingers in my mouth. I want you in the most intense way. I want to feel you slide inside of me. I am moaning desperately. I want you to be first, because I know your cock. I know how perfectly it fits inside of me and I am aching to feel you. But you won’t do it., You make me wait, even though I am begging for it. Instead I am turned on my stomach, I sense you and the man shifting positions but I am still blindfolded so I can’t be certain of who is where. Suddenly, I feel hands that are not yours grab my hips and pull my ass up in the air. I feel so vulnerable and exposed. The man takes the head of his hard cock and begins to rub it between my lips and up and down my ass. I am dripping wet by now. You are once again lying beside me. I feel your comforting and tantalizing presence. You tell the man to wait one second while you slowly lift the blindfold off. Then, as I am staring deep into your fiercely beautiful eyes you instruct him to go balls deep inside of me. With one fell thrust I am impaled upon this stranger’s cock and gasp before you kiss me deeply.  As he begins to fuck me slowly you sit back and watch. I have still never seen this man’s face. I only see yours. Fuck. I love your eyes so much. 

As he continues pumping, gaining momentum, you position yourself so I can put your hard cock inside of my mouth. I can’t use my hands so you help guide my face where it needs to be. I languidly suck your balls and deep throat you until the man is about to come. He is getting more and more excited so we have to stop. You tell him to spank me, Hard. No harder. There are red hand welts on both cheeks. Each spank makes me cry out in pleasure. You tell him to explode inside of me. He comes with a giant thrust and groan, falling over me, exhausted, and spent. 

You kiss me gently on the mouth and tell me to close my eyes. 

The man gets up and leaves the room, you escort him out. I hear you return. You tell me to open my eyes. You turn me over on my back, keeping my hands tied above me. Then and only then do you finally give me what I want most in this world. You. Inside of me. I am slightly raw and you fill me up slightly more than he did. Starting out excruciatingly slow you build to an ecstatic momentum, fucking me harder than you ever have before. You explode deep, deep inside of me, mixing your come with his. I am full. I am spent. And I am completely satiated. 

And I never once saw who the man was. 

There are some holes in the story, I know. But it is workable. 


*Does once a month include just having lunch and talking? Just curious…would still love to hang out as friends and continue to get to know you and your wife. 

Looking forward to your thoughts. 



AND he replied:

Holy goodness.  I can’t respond to everything right now, but just had to let you know that you got my cock hard – aching, furious, won’t tolerate being ignored hard, right now.  Damn you.  Damn you!

I hope you have a good fuck this afternoon.  I want to hear about it later.  I don’t think we should wait a month to talk.  Fuck fuck fuck – you write some good fantasy. Must work on a plan.

I cried tears of joy that all was not lost.

I think I may have it bad for this one.

After my gyno appointment at Kaiser, I have plans to meet Tattoo Artist at my house for some good old fashioned sex.

I started to have doubts about Tattoo Artist during my vaginal inspection. I am not 100% sure why, but the thrill was gone, and it was beginning to feel more of a chore than a treat.

I left my front door open for him because I knew Kaiser would take longer than anticipated. He was there, lying on my couch when I walked in. He got up to greet me, handing me a big bouquet of flowers. I cringed internally. I don’t want flowers, I thought. I just want to get fucked. Damn him. This feels too “sweet,” already. Ugh.

He kissed me in the kitchen then picked me up and took me into the bedroom, lying me down on the bed. I enjoy kissing him. I really do. It is a lovely sensation. It doesn’t light a fire in my loins though, dammit. We began to undress each other. Both had a feeling, of “let’s do this already.” He ate me out for a bit. It felt great. Not gonna lie. He seemed perfectly content and confident down there. A little too much attention on the clit for my tastes, but that is something that can always be worked on with a little guidance.

I told him I wanted to feel him inside of me. He put on a condom. Then he was inside of me lickity split. He is not slightly above average, for the record. Smaller than Highland Park, but not by much. Condoms do a disservice to men of this size, I think. Or else he brought a lubed one. Shit was slippery down there. Or maybe that was me? I felt turned on. I wasn’t out of my mind, but I felt good. Solidly good. He didn’t move much at first, which I really enjoyed. I like slow and steady. I felt present but not incredibly alive like I do with HP. I didn’t feel every nerve and cell screaming in pleasure. My mind was not honed in like a laser. I was drifting, wondering. It could have something to do with his relationship status, and not wanting to get too close, but that doesn’t really make sense if you think about HP. I really shouldn’t be getting too close to him but I can’t fucking help myself. The chemistry with HP is out of this world. I didn’t want to be in my head comparing the two but that is where I was, in my head comparing the two. Eventually Tattoo Artist came. Then we laid around talking for about an hour before he put on another condom. This time I made myself come with him inside of me. I felt slightly guilty because I was thinking about HP watching us the entire time, and that was the only reason I came. The idea of looking in HP’s fierce blue eyes while Tattoo fucked me was too much to bear. I could hear HP’s voice in my head telling me what he wanted me to do. THAT was sexy. It was fun feeling another cock too. Another body. I enjoyed it. Not gonna lie. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Totally different than HP, but solid good fun. I can tell; Tattoo guy is pretty conservative, though. He would not be into playing, watching porn, or tying me up; I am afraid. A threesome with him and HP is certainly out of the question, no doubt about that.

Tattoo and I took a shower together in my tiny little claw foot shower afterwards. I am extremely comfortable with him. He’s fun to be around. You can tell he likes to laugh. He reminds me of bear energy. Solid good dude with a big warm heart. And he digs me. So much. Tells me how beautiful I am constantly. It does feel good being around him.

Damn HP!!

After Tattoo left I texted HP that I wanted to debrief with him. He said to call. I called him. For the first time since we started this experiment we spoke on the phone. It was kind of amazing. I liked the sound of his voice. I did.We talked for awhile. We like talking to each other. We really do. It is up there with how much we like having sex. I dig where he is coming from. His perspective is very interesting and so open-minded. He rolls with my non-sequiturs as gracefully as Mohammed Ali. My Ex-husband used to get this dead look in his eye when I spoke and I could sense his frustration trying to make sense of my non-linear thinking and storytelling. But not HP. He gets it. He’s right there with me. In my head. Not a problem for him to hang tight with my particular brand of crazy.

He said one thing that stuck with me. When we were talking about the birthday email I sent him, he was really touched and moved by it. Seriously appreciated that I took the time to do that. I joked with him that he was lucky then, because that was the toned down edited version. The other one might have scared him away. He admitted that he can’t be as open as he would like. And I stopped breathing for a moment.

What I would give to hear him be as open as he wants to be.

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