nekkid-karli

[nekkid-karli]

Do I miss working?  People always ask if I get bored “doing nothing” for 8 years.  You and I know boredom is not part of my life. The weekdays I do spend at home by myself is time happily used to recover from past adventures and plan future ones.  That being said, I have to admit -- I used to LOVE working!!!  

I got my first “real”  post-college job as soon as S & I came back from our honeymoon.  I loved going in to The City every day, loved working in the highrise, loved being part of the 9-5 grind.  As I got more and more comfortable, just being part of Corporate America wasn’t quite cutting it. The excitement of moving millions around on a daily basis begins to lose its excitement when they don’t ever hit your own account.

How did I create my excitement?  Higher heels. Extra popped button.  Tighter skirt. The occasional fishnet.  Twinkly eye. Suggestive smile.  

Work Hubby

Work Hubby and I were already friends when I decided to turn my work life up a notch.  We used to go out for lunch together, but at some point it switched from “just friends” to more.  We started using every opportunity to get busy. I remember getting a hotel room and realizing just how skilled Work Hubby actually was when not made to quickly do me bent over a restaurant bathroom sink.   As time went on, he and I must have done it on every desk and in every shell of a future office on the unoccupied 33rd floor, a few flights above ours. This continued for a good couple of years… Meanwhile…

Work Hubby’s Friend

Work Hubby had a really good (and very cute) friend who was always very flirty with me.  At some point, the flirtiness escalated to occasional oral action in a stairwell. I noticed that the “meet me?” emails would come through when he saw me in a skirt that day, rather than pants, and all he ever really wanted to do was go down on me.  I didn’t object too much. Meanwhile…

THuG

THuG: “That Hot Guy.”  That’s how he was secretly known around the female population of the office.  He was pretty high up the corporate chain, in his mid 40s, tall, ridiculously good looking with his cut jaw and perfectly fitting white button downs.  When he started noticing me, I could swear I must have been imagining it. I mean - this is THE guy. The one everyone wanted. Well, guess what. Turns out that twinkle in his eye matching mine was for realz.  

One day, I got an email out of the blue: “So.  What’s your situation?” Holy fuck! I had to scroll through the company directory to make sure I’m remembering his name correctly.  That this completely random email is, in fact, from THuG. I replied with “I’m married, but…” I figured that’s pretty much as much detail as he was looking for.  Yep, his response indicated this was sufficient. “Great. Let’s grab lunch.” OMG!

Lunch was the only thing not getting grabbed that day.  THuG had a parking spot by the office, and over the next year or two, we did it countless times in the back of his SUV.  Every once in a while, we would catch a quickie in the stairwell.  

This one time...

THuG - I was blowing THuG in the stairwell, in between two floors.  Suddenly, the door half a flight up opened and a woman came out onto the stairs.  Nobody has ever pulled their clothes back into place faster than we did in that moment.  THuG took off down the stairs, and I went after him. Wearing my heels, so way slower. When I made it all the way to the lobby, I ran into Work Hubby’s friend waiting for the elevator.  

Work Hubby’s Friend - We got in the elevator - just the two of us - and his mouth was instantly on mine and his hand was up my skirt.  (I wonder if he questioned why I was so wet.) We straightened up by the time we got to our floor; just in time, as Work Hubby was waiting to get on.  

Work Hubby - Quick hellos all around, and Work Hubby takes my arm as I’m about to get out of the elevator and instead takes me up to that empty 33rd floor.  Three guys, unknowingly, withing a few minutes’ time. And finally! SOMEONE finishes what the other two have started!  

THuG

THuG knew I was into women, and decided to to arrange a threesome.  He introduced me to his friend, N. N was a little older than me, probably in her early 30s, really cool, very pretty, non-monogamous with a husband and a lover.  While she and I were having drinks that first time we met, N mentioned that her husband, an olympic athlete, has never been with two women, and invited me to their house.  

I had a really fun threesome with N and her Olympian husband that weekend.  I had a very sensual threesome with N and her lover a couple of months later.  And, of course, THuG, N, and I had an amazing daytime tryst later in the year.  

One of the moments I remember most vividly was N and I 69ing, me on top, and THuG coming up behind me to fuck me.  I’m NEVER into anal, but this time when THuG asked, I just said “get some lube.” N’s tongue on my clit, THuG in my ass, and my face buried between N’s thighs - that was an orgasm I still remember 15 years later.  

THuG was always curious about my swinger lifestyle, so I offered for us to meet with a couple from one of the websites on which S and I were members.  We met Sex Master and his gf for coffee to make sure we all liked each other, and then a few days later in a dingy roadside motel. This was the first time THuG was going to be involved while there is another man in the room, which can be  understandably intimidating. THuG couldn’t rise to the challenge... Sex Master suddenly had two women to satisfy, and boy, did he ever! So much so that this sparked years of naughty one-on-one meetups.  

Between the three work men, it’s really a wonder I was able to keep my job as long as I did.  I was barely ever at my desk. If I wasn’t “getting coffee” with Work Hubby, then I was getting eaten by his friend or I was on all fours in THuG’s car.  Alas, all good things must come to an end. I was getting complaints about my (lack of) work from my boss, and I was bored with the monotony with these guys anyway, so I found a new job.  I’ll tell you guys about my risqué adventures there sometime soon. It’s good, I promise!

[nekkid-karli]

Budapest with a Side of London

London, UK

Friday

Here we are, breaking through the cloud cover over London.  I didn’t sleep nearly enough on my flight, and I’m supposed to be meeting the Brit in a couple of hours.  I’m so tired and in dire need of a shower and a toothbrush. For a brief second, I almost hope he cancels.  But then again, I did plan this 36-hour stopover just to hang out with him, so…

I shower, change, and fix up my hair and makeup at the arrivals lounge, and I feel human again.  I’m ready. Hope he doesn’t cancel! I get to the hotel, stash my stuff, grab my camera, and head out to explore Soho. Two full lingerie set purchases and several espressos later, we finally meet up.  

Last I saw the Brit was about four months ago, and we haven’t spoken much since.  Maybe a few texts every week or so. But it didn’t matter… before long, we were right back where we left off.  He had planned a full day for us, and we walked around getting photos off the tourist track. (My fave!)  

Back at the hotel, the glass-enclosed shower in the middle of the room was just begging to be used properly.  I made a bit more of a show of soaping up and washing off the bubbles than I would have had nobody been watching from the bed, and the Brit took the bait and joined me.  I lathered him up with my entire body, and in return, I got to feel those hands all over me.  

By the time we made it to the bed, I was already soaking wet.  (No, I don’t mean from the shower.) Feeling his tongue between my legs was straight-up heaven.  Just like last time, he had me screaming in no time. The only thing better was the anticipation of his hands on my hips as I rode him.  DAYUMMM – completely worth the wait.  

Saturday

I got to feel those hands on my hips again the following morning, while he did me from behind as we watched ourselves in a wall mirror.  I even got a bonus breakfast at the end of it – straight down my throat. Yum.  

Again, not enough time together.  As he takes me to the airport to catch my flight to Budapest, I’m again left hoping we see each other again. Soon.

Budapest, Hungary

Somewhere on my travels this past summer, I matched with a Serbian guy.  He is a photographer and has done extensive travelling, and we had some nice chats from time to time.  We would exchange photos or talk about our latest trip, but the topic never strayed to sex. Until December.  And then, all of a sudden…

It was like floodgates to naughtiness opened up.  This guy’s “nocturnal activities”, as he refers to them, rivalled mine… and somehow we had gone half a year not mentioning a word.  From then on, the conversations got more frequent and the picture exchanges got more x-rated.

When I decided to go to Budapest, I invited the Serbian to join me.  He said he was going to drive up and meet me there when I land on Saturday.  

When I landed, I had a text waiting: “Change of plans.  I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon instead.” Good, it’ll be great to get some sleep and recover from my time with the Brit.

Sunday

I woke up early, walked around the city all day taking photos of the ridiculously beautiful sights, and by evening, got a text that the Serbian got held up at the border and will be there the following morning.  That’s fine. I have no issue spending some alone time.

I was reading through some travel blogs while having dinner, and found one that described a legal and sensual erotic (yoni) massage in the city.  I thought back to the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever experienced, the result of a yoni massage, and decided to check one of these places out. I made an appointment for one for Monday morning, hoping I’d be done in time to meet the Serbian at the hotel when (if?) he shows up.

Monday

I didn’t hear a peep from the Serbian that morning, and decided it was time to hit up Tinder on my walk over to the massage.  Upon my arrival, I was taken into a big room with a thick mat on the floor, and my chosen masseuse told me to take off everything, go take a shower, and then come back in lie down on the mat face down.

The beautiful masseuse was in just a thong, gentle and demure.  She started with a 15 minute rubdown with lots of oil, using her hands and her bare breasts.  It felt heavenly, especially with her smooth thighs straddling mine. She had me flip over onto my back and continued the rubbing, this time her hand or breast grazing my labia once in a while.  I couldn’t wait to feel her touch there.

Finally, she was there.  Almost in the right spot.  And when she started rubbing, it was only a few millimeters off.  Very important millimeters. I was lying there, contemplating if it would be rude if I moved her hand so that her finger was making contact with my clit.  Or better yet, if I could just move her hand altogether and do it myself. I did neither. I pretty much forced a mini-orgasm, and when she asked if I’d like a double, my “no thank you” was probably a little too insistent.  

On my walk back to the hotel, after texting the Serbian to just forget it and maybe we’ll meet another time, I was chatting with my new Tinder matches.  One match, a chick who had super-liked me, invited me for coffee. We met at 4 o’clock, and had a great conversation for several hours. She asked if I’d like to get together the following day, but I had a feeling the Serbian was going to show up that night anyway.  

I was right.  He texted around 8pm and said he’s outside my room.  Sigh. I was in the middle of such a good convo with a new Tinder guy… but I guess that can be continued later.  I told the Serbian I’ll see him in 20, and when I showed up an hour later, I was actually impressed. I was angry that he was DAYS late, but he made that anger dissipate pretty quickly.

We walked over to a ruin bar and had a great time chatting, drinking, watching people, taking photos, and making out.  This guy is really good looking – tall, nice eyes, and a really cute boyish smile.  

Back in the room, this guy made me cum multiple times.  In between orgasms, he had me on my knees and deep throating him until my mascara was running down my face.  And then some more. He was so deep in me as one hand was smacking my ass and the other was holding my hair. I loved every second of it. 

When we were done, I asked if he would like my coffee date chick to join us tomorrow.  That was obviously a “yes,” so I texted her to ask if she’d be up for a threesome instead of just the two of us.  She agreed.

Tuesday

Coffee chick was visibly nervous when she came over.  A glass or two of wine, some conversation, followed by some nice kisses from me helped.  Pretty soon, she and I were down to just our thigh high stockings. We took turns going down on each other while the Serbian watched.  She tasted so good; I really just couldn’t get enough!  

After a while, the Serbian joined in.  He was surrounded by pussy – his hand in one and his tongue in another.  Then came his two girl blowjob, and when he fucked me from behind, I got to bury my face between the coffee chick’s legs again.  I was under them when he later fucked her, licking her clit and his balls while her face was in my crotch.  

The coffee chick eventually left, and the Serbian and I went out to wander in the cold.  Got dinner, drinks, and by the time we got back to the room, our batteries were almost recharged.  I came out of the shower to a display of an array of restraints and whips and such.  

We set up a camera and had a nice little blindfolded and restrained session.  It was pretty low on energy after a long morning/afternoon of “nocturnal activities,” but still good nonetheless.  

A short nap.  A ride to the airport.  A hug and kiss goodbye. A hope that we’ll see each other again.  An end to another amazing adventure.

[nekkid-karli]

Parlez-vous sexe?

My entire life, I’ve gone through stages of near obsession with different things:  there was a scrapbooking period; a tennis period; a painting period; a radio contest winning period;  a swinging period; a running period; a concerts period; a health nut period. All of these have lasted different amounts of time.  While I only made one scrapbook, S and I have swung for many many years. What can I say - I guess some hobbies are just more fun. 

At the moment, I have two huge passions.  Travel and sex. In the last year, I’ve been to 23 countries and have been with around 50 men.  (My need for organization and record keeping means that I have a spreadsheet for both, so yes, I know all the exact numbers.)   I’ve mentioned what a fan I am of Tinder - the app combines the two passions seamlessly.

Somewhere on my travels, I must have been swiping in the vicinity of an Eastern European film producer.  I’m pretty sure we were both in Turkey at the time, but by the time we matched, we were back in our respective home countries.  Well, who am I to make some measly 5,000 miles into an issue?  

I had been enjoying our chats for about a month when I mentioned that I was itching to go somewhere while the rest of my family will be on a boys’ trip.  Lucky for me, the Producer was kind enough to take the bait and invite me to come hang with him in Cannes.  

I decided I’d spend a few nights with the Producer in the South of France, but that I should probably stop in Paris for a few days first, as it’s been a while since I’d had macarons while walking down the Champs-Élysées.  (Fuck, that was a ridiculous sentence. I rolled my eyes at myself on your behalf.) Well, if I’m going to be in Paris, that means I’m going to need to find me some company.

First things first: get in touch with Frenchy and see if he’s around.  (He is! Yay!) Next up: Tinder. (Plans with two more guys. Double yay!)  

WEDNESDAY 

I landed on Wednesday, took a quick nap and a hot shower, and went out to walk around Montmartre and meet my first date, #134.  He was great - has traveled a lot, so we had lots to talk about. There was a temporary Banksy exhibit in town, which was really cool to walk through.  We went for drinks, then dinner with wine, then more drinks… and while I wasn’t particularly feeling sparks, the alcohol made me horny. This guy was really just so nice - including in bed.  Which is… nice… I guess. He got up early for work and I went back to sleep.

THURSDAY

I was really excited to meet this next guy!  He grew up in Lyon, lived in the US in his early 20s, and now lives on the outskirts of Paris.  His English is nearly perfect, and we really had a great time chatting on Tinder.  

The plan was to go to Lyon for the day and overnight, so he could show me around his old digs.  I could tell he was nervous when he picked me up, but as the conversation began to flow, he quickly relaxed.  I loved making out at all the stops and towns along the way - this guy was a really great kisser! He took me to an amazing dinner that night, and when we came back to the room, I realized that his oral talents are not just limited to languages and kissing.  HOLY CRAP - that tongue!  

We had sex for a little while, but Lyon guy and I are both very oral, so there was a lot of mouth stuff going on that night.  I must say, for a first time, I felt surprisingly comfortable with him. I normally worry about one thing or another, but this was just straight up pleasure.  

FRIDAY

After a little more action the following morning, (both sexual and sightseeing,) it was a melancholy ride back to Paris.  We were both sad to be saying goodbye. Hopefully it’s not forever.

Lyon guy dropped me off at my hotel, and I got showered and ready for my evening.  Remember Frenchy, the guy I had met at the Florida swingers club? Well, he had two days in a row planned for us.  This first night, he was coming over with two of his friends - a girl and a guy. Both smoking-hot. We got down to business pretty quickly.  The girl and I were really into each other and the guys were sitting on the side chatting for a while while she and I touched and made out. (Kind of glad my French wasn’t better… this way it was just background noise.)  I licked her until she came, and when she returned the favor, one of the guys decided to make use of my mouth.  

At some point, the guys pulled us apart and took turns fucking us.  The grand finale was when the girl had had enough, and sat back and watched the three of us.  I was on my back, with my head hanging back over the bed, sucking Frenchy, with the other guy fucking me.  Frenchy pulled out of my mouth and came all over my tits… and I guess that set the other guy off, because he pulled out, ripped the condom off, and came all over me too.  That was SO RIDICULOUSLY HOT!!!!  

I guess we must have been pretty loud, because the hotel staff was banging on our door and yelling up to our window the entire time.  Thankfully they had no right to enter and they didn’t kick me out of the hotel, as it was really late when we were done... and I really didn’t want to have to wander around with smudged makeup and all my luggage in the dark.  The couple got a very stern talking-to when they left the room, and when Frenchy and I went to get something to eat later, the manager had a long lecture with several threats for us.  

Later that night, Frenchy and I had a really great one-on-one session… we were both really into it. I was going crazy on top of him and it was AMAZING.  He was slapping my face and my boobs and it was just making me go more and more crazy riding him. Every bruise and every sore muscle was well earned and appreciated.  

SATURDAY

Unfortunately, we woke up to a family emergency and Frenchy had to leave and cancel our plans together for the rest of the day and night.  So I got in touch with a guy I had matched with 6 months earlier who lives in the UK, whom I still had never met. My crossed fingers totally worked - he was going to come to Paris for the night!!!  His train was to get in that evening before dinner!  

I walked around all day, went to Atelier des Lumières, the Louvre, got tons of photos of Parisian streets, picked up some perfume that the Lyon guy turned me on to, and met the Brit back at my hotel in the evening.  

Right from the first impression, this guy totally blew me away.  Like I said, we had been chatting for about 6 months, but it wasn’t frequent and it wasn’t very deep… however in person, we hit it off from the first few words.  By the middle of dinner, I had all kinds of images going through my head - on one hand I wanted us to just keep chatting, but on the other, I couldn’t wait to get back to the room to feel his body on mine.  

Getting into the hotel with him, I was really hoping the front desk people wouldn’t say anything about the noise the previous night.  I didn't need him knowing that there was already cum on these sheets. Thankfully, it was a different lady at the desk. Phew! 

That night was incredible.  The Brit is so tall and strong, I felt like he could make me do anything he wanted… and I would have been happy to.  I honestly thought I was all out of orgasms after these last few crazy days, but it was barely even a challenge for him.  I was honestly shocked. The thing I can’t get out of my head is his hands on my hips while I was riding him. I mean, mine are no little girl hips.  These are good, solid, child-birthing hips. But he was manipulating them on top of him like they were nothing, making his dick hit me inside at angles I didn’t know were possible.   It’s now months later, and I can still practically feel his hands on me.  

SUNDAY

I wanted to touch him and be touched by him all night and following day, and I was really very sad to be separating.  This was not nearly enough time together, and I truly hope we can see each other again. Alas, it was time to head to Cannes, for the original point of this trip - the Producer.

The Producer and his work colleagues met me right at the airport, and I swear, my jaw must have dropped when I saw them all.  The photos I had seen didn’t do them any justice. The entire group was of the ridiculously well-dressed, tall, perfectly 5-o’clock shadow-ed can’t-look-directly-at-them variety, and I couldn’t have felt cooler being seen with them. We took a car to the beautiful apartment overlooking the Mediterranean coastline, dropped off our bags, (of which they only allowed me to lift my small pocketbook,) and went out to dinner.  

On top of being the juiciest eye candy, these guys were seriously some of the nicest people I have ever met.  The number of times they checked to make sure I’m not too cold (“let me give you my jacket!”,) that my food is okay (and offered me some of theirs,) that the music is okay (were they going to ask the restaurant to change it?,) kept my wine and water glasses filled, apologized if they slipped into not speaking English for a second, explained every one of their inside jokes and comments… Not to mention, the foodie in me was beyond pleased.  I mean, I was floating somewhere way above cloud 9 the entire evening.  

Back in the apartment with the Producer, in our bedroom, the urgency of the entire thing was real.  Clothes were flying. Tongues were everywhere. Wait, no, scratch that. Not everywhere. Remember how I said that I’m very oral?  Well, I meant that both ways. The Producer loves to be sucked, (I know, shocking,) but is not big on returning the favor. On the plus side, he’s very controlling in bed, which you may have noticed I absolutely LOVE.  I was so turned on - absolutely soaking wet. It was all really hot. Really really hot. But…

But he kept us changing positions often.  And (this is something I’ve never experienced before,) he came many times throughout the night, and although he was ready to go again right away, it put an off-beat rhythm on the night.  So while the sex was great, I just couldn’t actually get to an orgasm. Which was pretty frustrating, because I was SO FREAKING HORNY.

MONDAY

I walked around town all day while the Producer & Co did whatever it was they were there to do.  In the evening, I got dressed up and joined them at a party. The kind with free-flowing champagne, gift bags, and a few faces I actually recognized.  Afterwards, we all went to another foodie-approved dinner, had some drinks, and the two of us took a walk on the beach before going back to the apartment.

I tried to pull the Producer out onto the balcony, but he didn’t want his housemates to catch us naked out there.  (I certainly would not have minded that. And if they wanted to join in, that would have been more than fine as well.)  So - back in the room, more of the same sex as the previous night. It was so good, lots of fun, huge turn on… and when he fell asleep, I finished myself off and went to sleep too.  

TUESDAY

The Producer and I went for a lengthy walk, lunch, and since there was nobody in the apartment, we finally did it out on the balcony!  In daytime! So if anyone was looking up… Hehe… It went from the balcony, to the dining room table, (me lying on my back, him standing,) to him cumming all over my face; with the entire thing filmed for posterity.  (Love my little phone stand!)

At night, there was some more hot action.  He’s so good at being dominant - I was loving him telling me what to do.  After he was asleep, I came in the shower and joined him for some Zzzs.

This had been such a fun several days.  This guy and his friends are really possibly the biggest gentlemen I’ve met in my life.  They’re all very educated, super quick-witted and charming, were curious about my marriage and how this all works (it always makes me wonder when people don’t ask questions about that,) and actually listened when I spoke.  But these few days were enough for now. Going through our travel schedules, we figured out that we’ll be in LA at the same time again in a few months, and maybe we’d meet again. (Spoiler alert: we do.)

WEDNESDAY

I woke up at 5 and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I decided to go running and see the sunrise.  When I run and get into a groove with it, it’s almost a meditative experience for me. Just hearing my breath and my steps, the world is drowned out around me - it’s restorative.  Same goes for sunrise or sunset, especially when I can watch it happen over the water. This was the perfect last morning for this trip. I ran and reflected on all the events. All the men.  All the experiences. 

All these adventures, and I couldn’t wait to get back to my normal life.  There’s nothing like being wrapped around my amazing husband, in our bed, with my head on his chest.  Most of all, as I ran, I thought about how grateful I am to him for allowing me - no, for encouraging me - to live my life in a way that makes me happy.   When we’re happy individually, we’re that much happier together, as a couple. I love my husband. I love my life. Fuck societal norms.  

[nekkid-karli]

Florida men

I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that I’m really into traveling lately.  Whether I’m traveling on my own, with friends, or with my husband or family, I can’t get enough of it.  I’m part of several facebook travel groups, and about a year and a half ago, some of the local members decided to actually meet in person.  It so happened that one of these girls, A, was making her divorce official that day, and she wanted to go to a male revue to celebrate. A and I hit it off from the minute we met.  She’s funny, smart, beautiful inside and out, easy going and fun. By the end of the night, A and I (probably rudely) ditched the other girls and ended up giving a two-girl bj to one of the men of the revue in the back of his truck.  It was a really fun night and I could tell we’re going to be great friends.

Since that night, we’ve hung out many times, mostly innocently. Mostly.  We once had a threesome with a guy she was dating. Another time, A and I recruited my husband to take nude photos of the two of us in action, which of course turned into another threesome.  A few months after we met, A had to relocate to Miami… And clearly I went to visit her there. So, let me tell you about my Florida trip.

Before traveling anywhere these days, I like to do my research.  Sights to see, places to eat/drink, guys to do. I love the Tinder feature where I can set my location to any part of the world.  By the time I was headed down there, I had already spent several weeks chatting with a really funny guy who lives on a yacht. Yachtguy picked me up from the airport and we went for drinks. We totally clicked and when he kissed me in front of my hotel, (full on tongue and hand in my hair,) my knees just about gave out.  Me being the slut I am, I invited him upstairs. He, being the gentleman he is, said “tomorrow.” Man, totally rejected. Oh well, more sleep for me.  

The following day, Yachtguy picked me up and we went to his place.  We took his boat out for the day, went to eat, had a lot of fun and great conversation.  When we docked back, it was ON. This guy likes control exactly where I like it - in his hands.  He had me on my knees, making me choke on his cock within minutes of getting back. He fucked me in every which position, with his strong hands either on my throat or my hair, or smacking my ass.  He was talking dirty and making me scream with pleasure. He wanted to pee on me, but I drew the line there. Mostly because I’ve never done that and didn’t really know how I’d react or what I actually needed to do.  I stayed on the boat that night, and the following day we went to the nude beach, hung out there for a bit, and then Yachtguy drove me to A’s place. 

Saturday night, A and I went to a swingers club.  Two unicorns - you know this was going to be a great night!  We stripped down to our lingerie, and were quickly pulled in to where two couples were having fun on a mattress.  I was being fucked by one of the guys, #111, while his partner licked his balls and A sat on my face. (That was ridiculously hot!)   At some point, the second couple pulled us away and I played with the guy, #112, while A played with his wife. I clearly remember leaning over to A while #112 was still inside me and saying “Holy shit, you HAVE to fuck him.”  (Because sharing is caring!) A agreed… #112 was fucking GOOD! (A actually stayed friends with the couple, and they’ve met up in that club a few times since that night.)  

A and I were taking a break at the bar, when we were approached by a guy whose date went home early and left him there to continue to party.  He was in the area on business from France, and has been to this club on prior trips. A few glasses of champagne, and the three of us were back on one of the beds.  We were fucking and chatting and fucking and chatting some more, when I mentioned how Yachtguy wanted to pee on me and I didn’t know what to do. So Frenchy decided he was going to teach me the ways right there in the club shower.  I’m not sure how the word spread, but people gathered to watch me pee on him and then him on me. The audience was cheering us on, and A was recording the whole thing on my phone for posterity. I was neither turned on nor grossed out by it, so if it really turns my partner on, I could see being turned on by their enthusiasm.  

Sunday morning, A and I went to a dance party, followed by a super fancy brunch.  At the restaurant, an older guy came over to chat us up. He quickly made it known that he’s some kind of a big deal, “casually” mentioning how he paid his ex-wife 25 million to leave him alone, and, yeah, we were impressed enough to let him cover all our Pisco Sours.  We spent brunch listening to him brag, hit on us, and make derogatory comments about random people… and as he was signing the 4-figure brunch bill, he invited us out again later. That night he took us out to a really nice dinner and we ordered EVERYTHING. ALL the food.  ALL the drinks. He wanted us to stay with him that night, but we had him just drive us home. I guess money can’t buy you everything.

Monday afternoon, while A was working, I went out with Frenchy.  I sat on the beach and watched him surf for a while, and after lunch he offered to drive me to Yachtguy’s place, with whom I had plans that night.  Not so fast. “Do you want to drive me now or do you want to fuck first?” Fucking it was. And it was DAMN GOOD, definitely better than at the club.  He had clearly done this once or twice before, because he knows his way around a woman’s body.  

Back on the boat and back on my knees, being a good little slut for Yachtguy.  He had me dressed up in the tiniest sluttiest outfits; he had me on a leash; he had me kneeling in the shower and begging him to piss all over me; he had me asking permission to cum over and over.  I flew home with my entire body sore from an incredible weekend and with a huge dreamy smile on my face.  

A little bit of “where are they now?”  Yachtguy and I are still very good friends.  We chat every couple of days and we’ve hung out since, (even went on a trip together.)  But he has a girlfriend so it’s all platonic now. Frenchy and I hooked up in Paris recently - more on that another time.  And my girl A will be moving back to my area soon - she’s actually going to stay at our house for a few weeks - and I can’t wait to see what kind of trouble the two of us can get into around here!

[nekkid-karli]

My week

Over our 19+ years of marriage, our desires, tastes, and interests have morphed many times.  There were times that we were out at swingers parties or meeting new couples literally every night of the week.  There were times that we just wanted to make love to each other after quiet family evenings. Lately, we’re having a lot of fun dating other people.  Separately. We tell each other everything, and after some particularly steamy dates, we end up talking dirty about it in bed… but if I’m being completely honest about it, I mostly like it for me.  Not for us as a couple, not to turn S on… but just because it’s a ton of fun and it makes me feel good. When S goes out and comes home with stories and panties his date sent along as a souvenir, I’m genuinely pleased for him.  We agree that we have a very happy marriage, a great sex life, and there is nobody in the world we would rather have as our life partner and primary lover. S just feels like my home, my comfort zone, my perfect other half. …But that doesn’t mean we only rely on one another for our fun.

Anyway, last week was a busy one. Want to hear all the dirty details?  

MONDAY

Monday night I had a date with E, a divorced guy a few years older than me.  We had seen each other a couple of times before, and always had a GREAT time.  (The previous date, he took me to a Halloween party at a club, we took some mind-altering substances, danced for 7 hours straight, and stayed up until mid-morning fucking.  It was the most fun I’d had in ages!) So Monday we went to dinner and spent hours singing at a really fun gay piano bar. Towards the end of the night, we were both mildly drunk and very horny, and I couldn’t help but start things in the cab back to the hotel he had booked for the night.  (Which happens to be the same hotel a different date had taken me the week prior… but there was no reason to mention that to E.) I don’t know if the cab driver knew I wasn’t just resting my head on E’s lap, but I didn’t care too much.  

By the time we got into the room, (that elevator to the top floor took FOREVER!!!,) our clothes were already half off.  Once we managed to tear the other half off our bodies, E pushed me on the bed and dove between my legs, face first. I loved the feel of his beard on my skin and his tongue making circles on my clit.  I held my pussy lips apart so his mouth could have better access. I could feel my wetness soaking his beard, and we were both loving it. I was so turned on and he was so skilled that it probably took me no more than a couple of minutes to cum. Incredible as it felt, I was BEGGING him to stop and come up and fuck me; I NEEDED to feel him inside me.  When I really couldn’t wait any longer, I pushed him off, made him flip on his back, and sat on his cock. I was soaking wet and riding him like my life depended on it. I clearly remember reaching back to play with his balls and feeling my pussy juices dripping down his sack.  

This all went on for probably hours before we finally decided that we need at least a nap before I had to get home for morning kid duties… Another night with E with only an hour of sleep.  He has really set a high bar for our dates. I’m not sure how he’ll be able to keep this going, but I’m enthusiastically looking forward to finding out.

TUESDAY

After making the lunches, taking care of school drop off, and a loooong nap, I met up with a new friend to go on a hike.  This was someone who contacted me about a week prior through an online hiking group of which we’re both a part, and we chatted enough that I felt safe.  Nonetheless, I sent S all of this guy’s info and pics, and shared my location… I guess so they can at least recover my cell phone when I go missing. This was really supposed to just be an innocent hike.  He knew I’m happily married, and I strategically left out the part about the marriage being open.  

You obviously know I wouldn’t be writing about this if all that came out of it is nice fall foliage photos.  This guy was cute and I was still in a flirty mood from E, so I was probably more touchy than I needed to be.  I know just the moment that he realized that I may just be down for some fun. He was taking a selfie in front of me, and I jumped into the shot with one arm around his chest and the other nonchalantly resting on his ass.  And then less nonchalantly squeezing. After that, there was a small barrage of questions. “Does your husband know you’re here with me?” “Is he okay with that?” “Do you have an open relationship or something?” “Yes. Yes. …Yes.”  Before long, we were making out and groping each other as the sunset over the lake. It was almost romantic. (Almost.) We did have to get back to the cars before it got dark, so we postponed any further face suckage til the parking lot.  

Once we hit the parking lot, it was ON.  Hardcore making out with hands down each other’s pants. He tried to convince me to come to his place… he even tried to tempt me with homemade stuffed cabbage… but I was just way too tired. Conveniently, this guy drives a van.  No stuffed cabbage there, but I figured it was just as good a place to get stuffed.

Before long, we’re in the long middle seat, him sitting with only one pant leg half on him, me topless bending over him, his hand on the back of my head, and his cock deep in my throat. After a while, I asked if he has a condom. His response? “I haven’t used those in years!"  What??? "Come on. Condoms are out of style.” WHAT?!?!?! “Let me just put it in for a second. Just once.” Not a chance.

So that was the end of that. Sigh. At least I got great fall foliage photos. Moving on.

WEDNESDAY

Wednesday night, I had a date scheduled with O.  We met on Tinder and had our first date the prior week.  He’s a divorced dad from Europe, a few years older than me, intelligent, attractive, and has a killer accent.  O and I weren’t supposed to meet until later in the evening, so I decided to grab a drink with a guy I used to fuck around with a decade back, D, with whom I recently reconnected.

Back in the day, D and I had some fun together, sometimes with extra characters making an appearance. Recently, however, it was just exchanging stories of our escapades via text, a picture exchange or two, and one instance of a pretty platonic happy hour.  I must say, there is something about D that really gets me going. It’s more than just his ridiculous body or killer smile or mischievous eyes. He’s just walking, talking sex. We met for drinks, and my panties were wet before I even had a sip of my cocktail.  (In fact, when I was getting dressed, I thought about going commando, but knowing the effect D has on me, I didn’t want to show up to my date with O with a wet patch on my skirt.) At one point, I went to the bathroom and sent D a picture of how wet he had made me.  Alas, that was the extent of it with D that night. Second platonic-ish happy hour, and off I went to meet O.

After dinner, back in the hotel, things were getting goooood.  I love the way O kisses; love his hands all over my body and in my hair. It was not hard and urgent; it was erotic and sensual. Passionate. There’s so much eye contact - I could feel him watching my face as he pushes all the way inside me, stretching me with every thrust. Maybe it’s because he watches the reactions and expressions of his lovers that he’s so good at eating pussy.  His finger on my g spot; tongue on my clit; every time, he has me breathless and moaning, wanting it never to end.

O and I met in the hotel he got for the night. I was so horny thanks to D that I didn’t let O take me to dinner until he fucked me for a bit. It wasn’t long - he said he didn’t want to cum until later - but it was enough to satisfy me for now. At least I’d be able to concentrate enough to have normal dinner conversation.  

We recorded some videos that night. There’s one where the camera really only captured us shoulders and up as I’m riding him.  Surprisingly, that’s the best video of the night. Just from watching our faces, you can tell every time he’s deep inside me. You can tell when he’s teasing me and not letting me come all the way down on his dick. If you can imagine two bodies writhing together, that’s exactly what it’s like. Not my usual kind of sex, but with him it just really works. Even in the middle of the night when we were done, I could still feel his lips on mine.

I’m the morning, O had to leave early for work and left me sleeping. In this big empty hotel room. All by myself. With still many hours left before check out. What a waste of a room.

THURSDAY

So I texted D. “Wyd?” “Coming over.” Perfect.

While I waited, I set up my camera and took lots of photos in my lingerie and heels. Because, you know, maximum room usage. Plus I needed to pass the time SOMEHOW.

I was really excited about getting it on with D.  He showed up looking hotter than ever and acting all dommy.  “Get on your knees.” “Lick my balls.” “You like me fucking your face?  I can’t hear you.”

I’m not usually a squirter, but he had me soaking the bed repeatedly.  He was fucking me from every possible angle and I couldn’t get enough. It was like he had a spell on me - I would have done anything he wanted.  And I did. I did everything he told me to do. “What do you say when I make you cum? That’s right. You thank me.” “Thank you.” “Thank you.” “Thank you.” “Thank you."

Eventually, I HAD to have his cum in my mouth. I NEEDED to taste it. Condom off; cock as deep as it could go. I caught myself moaning with pleasure every time he hit the back of my throat. When D's cum filled my mouth, I took an extra beat to taste it before swallowing. Hot and delicious and just the reward I wanted at the end of my morning. "What do you say?" 

"Thank you."

[nekkid-karli]

The beginning

My first post… this is so exciting.  Oh, where to start, where to start. I guess the beginning of the adventures is as good a place as any.  But first, a little background.  

S and I have been friends since we were 12.  I was not-so-secretly in love with him from the first time he spoke to me in gym class. “Hey.  Are you new?” So romantic of him to notice, amiright? When we finally started dating at 16, I was ecstatic! We were blissfully happy.  No straying; barely even a wandering eye. We were each other’s first and only. I mean, while our friends were living out their crazy college experiences, our private parts actually stayed private.   (Ok, well except one little story which I’ll tell you guys at some point.) We watched our drunk, partying, slutty friends with half disdain, half pity, and… possibly half envy. We were the first of our friends to get married - a big party right after graduating college.  

We’d been kinky and experimenting solely with each other for about 8 years when we somehow caught wind of a nude adults-only Caribbean resort. Hey - no clothes!  That sounds like a GREAT 3rd wedding anniversary trip!  

Picture this. About an hour after getting off the plane, two shy 24 year olds hesitantly folding their clothes onto a chair back and quickly disappearing to the necks into a huge hot tub.  Watching in shock as three attractive middle aged men come up for air from between three women’s legs. Blink in disbelief as the men quickly dispute who lasted underwater longest, pat each other on the backs, each switch to a different woman, count down, and dive back down between the very happy women’s legs.  This goes on for a while, as apparently it’s very difficult to actually declare a winner in a muff-diving contest.  

Suddenly, one of the men comes over to me. “Your turn!”  I look at S. He looks at me. He kind of shrug-smiles. I look at the man and kind of shrug-smile.  And… yup. Apparently it was my turn, because he’s suddenly underwater and his tongue is on my pussy.  One of the women makes her way over to me, pulls S closer, and starts kissing both of us. (In case you weren’t keeping track, that’s now three simultaneous tongues on two sets of my lips.)

Once the man comes up for air, we chat, their friends make their way over to us, and just like that, we’re a part of their group. That day, we learn about swinging, aka “the lifestyle”; we learn about feeling free and sexy and sexual and wild; we learn that we love watching each other please and be pleased, whether it’s by us or someone else; we learn that this is DEFINITELY the lifestyle for us.  In the week we spent there, we hung out with the whole group, but mostly played with the original couple who came over. (In fact it’s now 16 years later, and we’re still friends.) As exciting as the instances of playing with other people were that week, our favorite thing was just how free we felt. Our shyness was gone. We were flirty and fun and outgoing and we just felt SO FUCKING GOOD about ourselves, each other, and our relationship.

We left this hedonistic place completely different people.  We had eaten the juicy forbidden fruit. We had opened Pandora’s naughty box.  We had let the seductive genie out of the bottle. All the metaphors, and there was no going back.