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Just a Number


I have a friend who has a rule about her ‘Number’; it can never be greater than her age. Just prior to writing this I was skipping through TMI Tuesday posts and I came accross a question about your personal number stating that in a recent survey it was found that men found women with the number higher than 14 a little off putting. 

14???!!? Like shouldn’t that read women with an IQ of less than 41? I don’t really want to think too hard about this but I am relatively sure that I passed 14 a VERY long time ago. Even before my swinging days, maybe. I can honestly say that I have no idea what my number is. If I think about it I can remember most of the people of have shagged, I think. OK there will be ones that I have forgotten, not everyone I have met has been fantastic at sex. However the point is that my number is much higher than I or anyone else needs to think about. 

I was recently discussing the whole concept of keeping track of your number with a male friend. He was commenting that a lot of younger men like to discuss their number, obviously the higher the figure the higher their opinion of themselves. He and I were both in agreement that it is bad form for people to have this kind of approach. Mainly because it indicates that you are just chugging through partners without any thought of the quality of your input or the effort they are putting in. Really you may as well just go visit a series of glory holes. It is very disrespectful of the person who is sharing their body with you that all you think of the experience is how the notch is going to look on your bedpost. 

In my opinion being able to describe your experiences and being able to describe a life of fantasies realised is a much healthier and sexier way to live. Thinking about my number makes me feel bad about myself. There is so much confusion in my mind about what is an acceptable number and what the ramifications of a number that is too high. I am nervous sharing my feelings about my number with people because I am worried about being judged. When I think about experiences that I have enjoyed I feel strong and powerful. It gives me a sense of control over my sexuality and my life. 

There is one time when a number is perhaps a good thing; when you are planning a session of pure unadulterated lust. This year will be my 45th birthday. A conversation recently with Mrs Mikes Place about a birthday celebration involving a gang bang inspired me to make a similar birthday wish for my upcoming celebration. I am a little unsure of the exact number of men she fucked but I believe that it was somewhere in the vicinity of 20. 

I am nowhere near that ambitious. But my scenario runs something like this;

I am in a room of a swingers club, on a bed, mostly naked. I am not restrained but I am available to any man who is invited to join me. Mr Jones is beside me holding me, loving me. Standing over me my private bouncer, in consultation with Mr Jones, is in control of who has access to me. Men who come into the room can fuck me with the permission of the fireman and Mr Jones. 

My visitors are allowed to lick my pussy and fuck me. Any condoms they fill are to be left for Mr Jones and the fireman to enjoy later. While I am being fucked other men are able to explore my breasts and have their cocks sucked. They are welcome to cum on my belly and tits but they are not allowed to cum on my face. 

I don’t have a specific number of men in my mind but I doubt that I could handle more than about six or seven. Definitely no more than 10. That is the only time in my mind that a number would matter. Even then I am thinking it isn’t really an issue.  

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