Body Count

Photo by Anne Nygård on Unsplash

How many people have I fucked? I started writing this post in the usual boring way. The story of my struggle with my body count. But that story has been told. If you want to hear it then you are most welcome to ask but honestly I have discussed it on these pages more than once. The real story is that I have avoided actually seriously calculating the body count by talking about the theories around limits and society’s feelings about sex. 

So how many people have I fucked? It is an interesting question. When I start to consider it I can list some significant people like, Johnny, Pet, Mr Fixit, JB, The Traveller, The Second Mate and The Italian. As I write this list names keep popping into my mind. And those are the ones I remember. There are always those that are not as memorable or even those that are so far in the past that time has blurred my memory. 

I will answer the question by considering the people I have fucked this year. It has been a busy couple of weeks, Mr Jones and I are on the back of the second lifestyle weekend in a few weeks. We won’t be attending another for a while so this is a slightly exaggerated figure. At New Year’s we camped for about three days at a lifestyle camp. Every night we were ‘busy”. Sometimes multiple times. The body count for that weekend was… five. Not counting little interludes of kisses, hugs, nipple caresses and small cock sucks.

We are on the back end of a lifestyle party weekend. This event is a little more civilised and more of a party than just camping group congregating by the fire at night. There is a pool and considerably more drinking. We know a lot of the people at this event so there is a lot of catching up with some people that we haven’t seen for a while. The body count for this weekend was slightly less at around four but one was a double up from New Year’s. There was also some cock sucking and nipple caressing in the pool. 

So, as of the 22 Jan the body count is at 9. There will be some repeat business in the next couple of weeks with a possibility of a new addition. We will see. I keep feeling like there could be another body lurking here but it has disappeared in the fog of tiredness. Over the course of this weekend with this prompt and the thoughts it generated has triggered me to be more slutty than usual. For one of the first times in my life I have owned my slut behaviour and flaunted it. I wanted people to see me being a slut. I wanted people to see me being slutty and they wanted to see me. 

And so here I am. Not quite out and proud but definitely getting there. 

Monday, But Not

Today feels like Monday. Why? I have absolutely no idea because I have spent the last four days working a solid 16 hours a day. I have corralled kids into dining rooms, organised wash up duty. Listened to old white men talk about school culture and making choices to change your life. Listened to younger white men and women talk about the ANZAC experience of too many teenage boys who died heroically on the battle field. You read that right. At the time of WWI and WWII it was common for boys as young as 14 to enlist and find themselves on the battle field. I have encouraged and supported Young People through challenges, cut down what felt like a huge amount of “Tobacco Weed” but in reality it was a drop in the ocean. Watched Young People carry one of their friends on a stretcher in the dark up some ridiculous hills and then cheered as they pulled a six tonne truck. Basically I was doing my job. There was nothing sexy about any of it.

Today I am working from home. Not entirely sure what my task list looks like yet. It feels like Monday. I am starting to feel a little human again and I get to wear sexy shorts to work.

Bringing In the New Year With a Bang – Part 2

My first post for Revelations was a diary of a New Year’s camping expedition Mr Jones and I embarked on. As promised there are further installments and this is one.

Saturday Afternoon

It had arrived. The last day of 2022. Getting back to nature meant no escaping the mid-summer sunrise that happened at 4 am. Someone forgot to close the tent flap it seems. Once that was rectified we were able to sleep until a more respectable hour of 7am. The day was lazy with not a lot happening. Some socialising. A little walk to the creek. Afternoon drinks under the shady trees in the creek bed with our feet dabbling in the water. 

The arrival of Neon Wax Man caused some excitement. I had witnessed his work several times and Mr Jones even was a subject last time we had seen him but I could never bring myself to be brave. Wax and I have a very mottled relationship. Maybe one day. This didn’t stop the enthusiasm of some of the other people at the event. 

The afternoon meandered to a close. People enjoyed the outdoor showers and bathtub, cooked dinner and readied themselves to party in the new year. I had never been to a New Year’s celebration like this one I was unsure of what to expect As the sun began to slide toward the horizon we wandered over to the main fire. The place where all the action will happen. We were a little earlier than most but there were a couple of people. I found myself in conversation with a man I had chatted (read flirted with) with a few times. Other women had told me that he was good at massage. When he offered a massage I decided to take him up on his offer. 

His reputation was not unfounded. His hands on my back were strong but gentle. He probed my muscles finding spots that had long needed attention. I enjoyed the feeling and felt tension leaving my body. I wished that I had the discipline to find and make regular appointments with a pair of hands like this. 

“You are not asleep yet?” His voice was gentle in my ear.

I roused myself with a smile. Despite the flirting between us the massage so far had been the opposite of sexual. 

“Would you like to turn over,” There was a small smile on his face. 

With a nod I obliged. He continued with the non-sexual approach. Starting at my feet he began to work oil into the soles of my feet and heels. It is amazing how your body can respond to stimulation in this area. He continued to work his way up my claves and legs, Around me the sky began to turn orange and the cicadas began to sing. Slowly fingers began to work their way up my thighs. I kept my eyes closed absorbing the attention. Not for the first time I wished for more regular attention to my muscles. 

Then I felt his fingers running across the top of my thighs. Grazing my outer labia, teasing just a little. Without a comment or any fanfare we tripped over the line from very good vanilla to a very new experience. His skilled fingers stroked and stimulated my yoni in a way I had not experienced before. The tension that had been building between us since we had met way back in October reached a crescendo. 

As has become my habit I worked to control myself. I was conscious of not squirting all over the towels covering the massage table we were using. I worry about making laundry for other people. 

“I can feel you holding back,” His voice was deep in my ear. 

“I know,” I replied. “It is OK.”

“You don’t have to do that though,” 

I sat up and wrapped my legs around his hips pulling him closer to me. I could feel his hard cock resting against my open, wet pussy. I allowed myself to tease him a little. While he had massaged I had wrapped my fingers around his cock, exploring him. I was interested to note a piercing near his frenulum. Not a Prince Albert, something different. I haven’t ever fucked a man with a piercing before. 

His cock slipped into my wet, hungry opening. I allowed myself to be lost in the moment. It was a weird kind of feeling. I was conscious that the night hadn’t even begun. It wasn’t even properly dark. Celebrations for the evening were still to commence. But I didn’t want to cut our fun short. 

We held each other close and his cock moved inside my body. I was torn. I wanted the full experience of this cock. But something was making me hold back. The time was not right for this. I let things ebb away a little and we held each other closely as more people gathered around the fire. There would be time in the future for more exploration. Right now the excitement of New Year’s Eve was upon us. 

If you missed the first instalment you can read about it here.

X’s and Ohs

Like many things in my life I find impact play a bit hit and miss. I like the power of giving impact to willing recipients. I like a well placed spank during sex or while I am being stimulated in some way. But I am not super turned on by pain. There is some part of my brain at the moment that WANTS to engage with being submissive but I don’t know exactly where it will take me.

During our NYE shenanigans we met a couple who we hit it off with really well. turns out he likes a good spank but his general rule is quid pro quo. So if you give you have to receive. When I woke up the next morning I found this mark on my butt from my studded riding crop. Mmmmm this friendship is going to take some turns.

Sinful Sunday

Crossing Swords

In my last post I mentioned a scene where Mr Jones and another man enjoyed each other’s cocks. It wasn’t a new thing for us at all but writing about it made me consider a couple of things that I feel are worthy of a bit of discussion. Before I continue I just want to assure readers that the diary of my New Year’s weekend will continue. There is definitely more to tell but I wanted to tease this idea out a little first.

I have been a reader of KDaddy’s blog for a little while now. His insight into his bisexuality is interesting and at times revealing. Being a male interested in both genders is a complicated path to walk. When Mr Jones and I started out on our swinging journey it was very taboo for a man to express interest in interacting with another man. Over the years this attitude has softened a little and more men are comfortable enough to express interest in penises. It is documented in these pages that Mr Jones is one of the men who likes to interact with a penis.

It is often forgotten or not understood that there is a smorgasbord of activities. Not all of the activities will be to everyone’s taste. Nothing can be assumed. It is always better to ask first and have some clarity about expectations before diving in. The selection that Mr Jones takes is fondling and sucking or being sucked. He loves cum, in his mouth, on me, and in vaginas. He likes looking a cum shots in porn and watching cum drip from a newly fucked vagina. On the odd occasion mine.

There is always this hesitation when other men come up against the topic of bisexuality. By enquiring about the smorgasbord they are effectively outing themselves. As I mentioned earlier there is a very real fear of being shunned or lost opportunities if an experimental male is outed to another who is determined to be straight. Many swinging men foster very masculine facades. Sometimes this is to shore up ties with the other men. Sometimes this is to impress the women in the room. I have been surprised on more than one occasion when the masculine male in the room has shown interest in a cock. Budgy Smuggler man is from this generation. So his actions were understandable. He found himself in a situation where he could explore without judgement but he still held back. Afterward he still felt a very strong need to indicate his preference was vagina. Even though we had clearly shown we don’t care.

I will never understand why men feel the pressure to assert their straightness. It seems as if they assume that a bisexual man will be interested in them even if the feeling is not reciprocated. Is it an ego thing? Do they think that they are the most attractive man in the room and of course every human will want to fuck them? I just don’t get it. Some swinging men always feel the need point out their straightness. Some even go so far as to keep distance between their dick and other dicks when in a group situation. At the event we attended there was definitely some of the typical “you keep your dick over there mate” comments. But there was also more men who were determinedly nude than women. A man seeking to look at naked females had to be very observant. Myself, a woman seeking to look at naked men was spoiled for choice.

Will we every reach a point in our community where people will just accept that everyone is different and all you have to do is ask? Will we reach a point of enlightenment where it is completely fine to say and hear no because everyone understands that there are other opportunities out there? I really don’t know but I certainly hope so.