Wives have a sex party-Inside a Sex Party Where Straight Women Are Gay for a Night – Rolling Stone

This week, a corporate suit at a hotel kink party with his wife: 44, married, New Jersey. Typical workday scramble — getting three kids off to high school, middle school, and elementary school. Now I have an hour for my morning prep. My wife, Jax, and I are a sex-positive couple: We exude sex, explore with other couples, and have great sex, always. All while living in the daily vanilla world.

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party all, if I was seen being sexual with femme partners in this context I might also be judged as Wives have a sex party some kind of naive image of false sapphism. You need to login in order to like this post: click here This was a really interesting read! Like many, before I arrived at Desire, my knee-jerk reaction was that swingers were strange, maybe even pitiful. And we both have veto power over whom we play with. We don't socialize with the couples outside the scene since we don't have much in common with them besides sex—I guess it's the same as if you were in a hiking group and only saw that set of people on hikes. US Edition U. Parties came and went and neither of us had to courage to actually go. Outside of the warm, plush interior, with its landscape of feminine curves and perfumes, the hard concrete, clanking nighttime delivery trucks and sleeping homeless are a reminder that the real world is a less than forgiving place — a place Mermaid song andrew lloyd webber someone might well be afraid to kiss a stranger or explore their sexuality Pattycake booty front of others.

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I dispel my erection as a result of the knowledge that the void of thought required to find THIS attractive, is unattractive. Mit meinem Druck im Sack spritze ich ueber einen Meter weit. It was great till group penetration. What a sham. Group sex is fantastic. Who's the blonde???? To me. Help make Wives have a sex party easier to find on YouPorn by telling us who is in this video. Hot Download links havd directly from the world hav these people 0 0 Reply Submit Reply. Gabrielle Gucci.

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Skirt Club promoters hired me, a queer woman and professional Dominatrix, to attend and bring my submissive, Chloe, who is also my girlfriend. To undress her, tie her up, and spank her. In college, I crushed hard on a girl who professed her love for me in private while walking hand-in-hand with her blissfully unaware boyfriend across campus.

So, despite the lesbian sex show I was hired to put on for a bunch of straight or perhaps closeted women, I was determined to have a good time for myself. With these scenarios in mind, I was determined not to perform at Skirt Club. I was determined, instead, to have a scene. A performance is meant to titillate. And a scene is meant for pleasure — ours. Parties, couples, and individuals hire me to fulfill their kinky fantasies. Often, my fantasies overlap with those of my clients.

Blindfold a dude, tie him up, and make out with his gorgeous wife? Sounds great. Dress as Rachel Maddow, turn on the news to Trump destroying America, and kick a guy in the balls? Better workday than sitting behind a desk. I instructed Chloe to keep her eyes closed. I tied her hands to a spreader bar hung from the ceiling, watched her breathing get shallow, felt her pulse quicken.

I flogged her, choked her, teased her. Cis women submit profiles for vetting before they are permitted to purchase a ticket. That vetting process includes sexual orientation. After an hour at the party, I wondered if I would have been invited if I were not for hire. I am, to be sure, a Kinsey 5. But here we were, hired lesbians at the straight girl party like foxes in the hen house, and after our scene we took the chance to explore.

The room, a dark and low-lit, red and black adorned loft space turned high-end dungeon, was packed with scantily clad women dressed to impress. Black garters, leather skirts, Cuban-heeled stockings, and some well-placed electrical tape. A group sat in a circle on the floor around an empty bottle of Veuve Clicquot, playing spin the bottle. Lipstick is a touchstone of Skirt Club. There was not a butch in sight.

A friend of mine, writer and sex educator Vanessa Carlisle , also attended the party, and later told me that she was ready to leave when the bottle started spinning: the game operates according to breaches of consent.

As I watched, an eager brunette spun and the uncorked remains of the bottle that got everyone onto the floor in the first place. The group squealed at the closed-mouth encounter like a drunken bachelorette party.

Straight women just do lesbian differently. The stakes were lower than approaching a woman in a gay bar or at a queer party. The encounters work differently. In some ways it felt like they worked without consequence.

They also worked without the typical markers of any queer bar on a Wednesday. There was not femme present on purpose or principle or for resistance. Inclusion is not a priority here: trans people and low-income people also faced erasure. The party was ethnically and racially diverse, surprising given that the promotion and media coverage have been overwhelmingly white. But the body types were overwhelmingly similar in size, ability, and age. As a queer woman in that space, albeit also white and femme, I felt like I was in hetero territory, no matter how many times women approached me to play.

A queer space lends itself to openness to different expressions, however successful that is in practice, and this space was gendered in monochrome. Some wanted to find a unicorn to bring home to a boyfriend that very night: male desire is present at Skirt Club, even without men. One woman went into detail about her recent break-up, after she discovered her famous boyfriend was cheating: the proof was on p. Others claimed curiosity, plain and simple. Could we, by example, have lured these women away from their husbands, many of whom were standing by, waiting for their wives to return with a new guest-starlet in their bedroom?

You are clearly in a real relationship with each other. Well, only when a guy told her to do it. It was as if they had never considered the option. I feared accidental lesbian home wrecking, and how pissed the hostesses might be to lose their into-lesbian-sex-but-definitely-totally-straight clientele to the dyke Dominatrix. But I secretly hope to get an email one day recounting that seeing me and my girlfriend at Skirt Club inspired an opening of the closet door.

Regardless of the sex these women were having elsewhere, in a room full of women who identified as straight, Chloe and I were certainly not the only women to get laid that night. When we arrived, a hot cougar spotted Chloe from across the room and sauntered over to make a move, already on the prowl. One of the only women with what I can only describe as dyke energy, I secretly hoped that she was an out and proud queer, cruising the crowd of married women for some no-strings-attached action.

Black lights illuminated walls, piles of white pillows obscuring any view of the floor. The furthest corner featured the only electrical outlet, and we had a hitachi, so we set up shop. We were the only couple in the room save for two women making out in the entrance, perhaps hoping someone would trip over them and decide to stay.

After a Hitachi-induced trance took us out of the room for a good thirty minutes, a return to reality meant that we were surrounded. Women had filled the space, grinding on each other, going down on each other, fucking with abandon. But as a femme top who loves to rock a cock, I immediately noticed that there was nary a strap-on in sight. Another woman rested her head on my thigh without asking, her partner eagerly going down. I was shocked, even thrilled, to see sex happening and women coming, but I had to wonder: why was it seemingly so easy for these women to disrobe and get down in public?

Was it sexual socialization in the swinger scene, or were they so eager to find intimacy with another woman that they would fuck anywhere? It was adventurous, but not too adventurous. It was lesbian, but not too lesbian.

And what did they think of my sex? At its core, even our queer culture figures sex between feminine-presenting women as performative. It feels like The L Word. It feels disingenuous. Perfectly beach-blown hair streaming down Pilates-toned backs, Agent Provocateur lingerie pulled carefully to the side, stilettos left on. While the femme4femme movement online and in sex-positive queer communities has worked to reduce the stigma of femme-on-femme sex, many of us, myself included, are afraid that we learned lesbian sex from the male gaze and mirrored it back, even when the only bodies in front of the mirror are our own.

For that, it gets my lesbian Dominatrix stamp of approval, whether it wanted it or not. There are far too few spaces in the world where women feel comfortable enough to pile into a black-lit room full of pillows and go at it.

These personal essays do not necessarily reflect the ideals of Autostraddle or its editors, nor do any First Person writers intend to speak on behalf of anyone other than themselves. First Person writers are simply speaking honestly from their own hearts. Mistress Natalie West is an LA-based professional Dominatrix, offering private sessions to people of all genders, as well as kink coaching for individuals or couples.

She has been working in BDSM for six years, but she has been perverted for as long as she can remember. She cares about and fights for sex workers rights, women's health, and the well-being of the queer community. You can find her website. You need to login in order to like this post: click here. This is such a beautifully articulated post; I love the way you contrasted consensual and loving play on power dynamics versus the insidious and exclusionary power structures that manifest both consciously and unconsciously in society.

Thank you! Yes, the experience definitely affected the ways I was aware of consensual power and non-consensual power operating simultaneously, particularly around gendered performances. What a fascinating account — and one that left me oddly unsettled. I think it just reminded me of the odd sort of feeling I often have around straight women as a femme.

Looks like the same part of the article struck you as did me. Really wanting to talk about this, but realizing how many straight women make up my friend circle and not sure where to turn. When you perform femininity in the absence of men, or even the absence of masculinity, how does that affect the performance?

Maybe that question gets to why it feels alienating to not be centering men in convos with straight women. I think that straight cis men have a lot of opportunities for sanctioned homoerotic experiences.

I find the contrast between straight-identifying men and women really striking here. Cis men who identify as straight while having sex of any kind with other men have drawn a great deal of scrutiny and many charges that they are actually deceptive gay men. Then there are the people who claim that all bisexual men are actually gay men and that bisexuality itself is only possible for women. I imagine that this was less severe before the panic associated with HIV and intense stigmatization of bisexual men and straight identifying MSM that came with it.

Why does this strike me as colonization? Are any of those feelings even fair or reasonable? Is that the only way they can imagine this kind of interaction? I am extremely surprised and weirded out to find myself surprised and weirded out. To answer 5, it is something that started in the UK in and spread to the US and Australia last year.

It was 18 years ago and it still bothers me, I think because it was the first time that someone other than myself had made me feel like being not-straight was something to be ashamed of.

I am 18 or older. Bored February 20, Abspritzer October 5, Trending Videos See All. Not very much eating pussy, though. R2 March 19,

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party. Porn Videos

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I Became a Swinger During a Tenth-Anniversary Cruise with My Husband

It's a Friday night, and mid-orgasm, my eyes lock on my husband. He smiles, giving me that devilish look that still makes my stomach flip, even six years into our marriage. The only thing: He's not the man I'm having sex with—my partner is a friend of ours, and a circle of half-clothed strangers and acquaintances are watching the scene.

We probably attend one every two months, and we don't necessarily have sex with other people at them—sometimes we have sex with each other, sometimes we just watch, and sometimes we "play" a euphemism for anything that stops before penetration with other people. We've been doing this since we met at a sex party in New York City.

I don't like the term "sex party , "which makes it sound like everyone is having random sex without regard to safety or morals. That's not the case. At this point, Derek and I know a lot of people who attend, so it doesn't ever feel weird.

We don't socialize with the couples outside the scene since we don't have much in common with them besides sex—I guess it's the same as if you were in a hiking group and only saw that set of people on hikes. And we're always safe—hosts set up condoms and wipes and Derek and I are scrupulous about safety.

I know it's risky, but the way I see it, you take risks every day. We're as careful as we can be, and luckily, it seems a lot of the partygoers we associate with feel similarly. I love that Derek and I have this kinky connection. In fact, I feel just as close to him when I'm having sex with a stranger as I do when I'm in bed with him.

I know that sounds strange, but hear me out: I've had very intense fantasies since I was a teenager. Well before 50 Shades of Grey, I fantasized about submission, anonymous sex, and having sex while other people watched. For a long time, I thought something was wrong with me. I was never fully satisfied in my previous relationships and ended up cheating a lot because I loved the rush of sex with a stranger.

I always felt terrible after, which was why I started going to therapy. I also began reading up on sexuality, which is how I realized that I have very strong exhibitionistic and submissive tendencies. This research led me to various websites, including one that advertised sex-play parties at New York City clubs.

I was 27 when I went to my first party with my very open-minded best friend. When we walked in, it was like a different world. Women wore tight latex dresses and thigh-high stockings. Some had corsets that ended right below their breasts with pasties on their nipples. In one corner, a high-heeled woman walked on a man. In another, a couple flogged a woman. My friend was afraid, but I was turned on. By the end of the evening, I was passionately kissing a stranger as he held his hands tightly above my head, against the wall.

Another man was pinching my nipples. I loved it. The next month, I came back by myself. I became friends with a few people, including Derek. Often, the group would go out for dinner before a party. It's a way to get to know each other in a non-kinky setting, and it made me realize how normaleveryone was. Derek and I quickly realized we had a lot in common.

He was a year-old grad student, had been going to these types of parties since his early 20s, was currently single, and was well-known within the party community. In fact, at some parties, he served as the "dungeon master," a volunteer position created to ensure that nothing gets out of hand or is done without consent.

The scene takes safety extremelyseriously, which is why I felt all right going to parties on my own. Yes, people are getting whipped or flogged, but they're doing it because they want to and they always establish a safe word.

Anyone who doesn't follow the rules is kicked out and banned. It was Derek who showed me the ropes at one of the first parties I attended on my own. AndI mean that literally: He tied me up in the center of the room. I felt incredibly vulnerable and incredibly turned on.

Here was a man I could share my deepest, darkest desires with—and he could match them. We began playing together, which I guess means we had a sort of friends-with-benefits situation.

We'd experiment with different types of kinky sex, but I didn't imagine that it would turn into a relationship. It just seemed too surreal. Even though I felt better about my sexuality, I still thought I was in a try-anything phase and that once I crossed off everything on my sexual bucket list, I'd settle down with someone vanilla.

In addition to our kinky activities, we loved going on weekend hikes, watching endless episodes of True Blood, and trying new recipes. It took about a year before it was clear that our relationship was becoming serious. We moved in together six months later and got engaged two years after we met. There was never a question of whether we'd continue with kink—it's a huge part of what makes us tick. But once we admitted thatwe were committed to each other, some things changed.

Derek stopped playing with other women when I wasn't around. I didn't have other regular play partners besides Derek—I'd hook up with people at parties, but I preferred only having sex with him on the regular, so that wasn't an issue for me.

We no longer attended parties by ourselves. And we both have veto power over whom we play with. Since this has always been an aspect of our relationship, it doesn't feel weird that we've kept it up even after we tied the knot. I love that we have this special secret together, because in real life, we're incredibly normal.

Only a few close friends know about this aspect of my life, and I intend to keep it that way. We just bought a house in suburban New Jersey, we both work—I'm in marketing, he's an architect—and we are planning to start a family. That'll definitely curb the kink and sex with other people—and I'm a little bit ambivalent about what that will be like. I absolutely believe in shameless sexuality, but I also know that I don't want my future kids to have any inkling that sex parties, which can be an incredible, emotional roller coaster, are part of our lives.

The feelings are incredibly intense during sex, and the day after, I can sometimes seem a bit moody, spacey, and weird. A lot of people have the same reaction, but I definitely wouldn't be able to handle those emotions with kids in the mix.

For now, we're enjoying ourselves. I love watching my husband have sex and seeing how skilled he is at pleasing women. I also love having my husband watch me — it's an incredible display of intimacy and trust. So many people are terrified of infidelity, but it doesn't affect our lives. I know Derek and I love each other, so I don'tfeel jealous when I see him have sex with a hot something single girl—the same type of woman I was when he met me.

I actually enjoy watching him show a newbie the ropes, knowing that what we have is so much deeper than just sex. It also helps that I, like many other women on the scene, like sleeping with women—and it seems my husband and I have the same taste. Basically, if he has sex with her, I probably will too. I know this can sound depraved and shocking to people who haven't been to sex parties, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels right. And it doesn't feel like either of us are cheating or want each other any less.

Because here's the thing: Sex isn't love. I love my husband. I have sex with other people for the experience, for the surge of adrenaline, for the adventure. But I would never have sex with a man without my husband knowing—or, for that matter, watching. Because our marriage is nontraditional, we really have totalk about our emotions and expectations. Sometimes I feel emotionally needy and tell my husband I only want him to have sex with meat a party. Other times, I've felt a bit jealous of women with bigger breasts or a smaller waist, but I'd be just as envious if I saw a beautiful woman at the gym or in the mall.

Luckily, Derek and I are pretty good at communicating. After all, sex is only fun if everyone is on the same page. And I think these are good conversations to have—speaking up makes us closer. Ultimately, I'm not sure how much longer we'll be on the scene. But for now, it's fun, we're safe, and it's a great alternative to another Friday night of red wine and Netflix.

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Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party

Wives have a sex party