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First times never forget, they say. There must be some truth to that statement. It applies in all aspects of life and of course it applies to the Game. I had already experienced everything during my time abroad: couples, triangles, clubs, private parties... But then I chose to make a clean break with that past. I was convinced that I had fulfilled my every possible fantasy and desire. I was sure that I had tasted the apple of sin to the last bite. I had moved; I had cut ties with that environment, with my friends, with all the people with whom I had lived extraordinary adventures that many (all?) dream of without having the courage to follow their desires to the end. Wasn't it time to leave? To return to the ranks? To give up the Shadow. So I thought in those days. So I had done. I hadn't yet learned a simple truth. Once inoculated, the demon can never be completely eradicated. He stands there, silent in the corner. The shadow shrinks and shrinks in the midday sun. But has it really vanished or does it stay? No, the shadow never fades. I could ignore it, I could pretend it didn't exist. I could pretend a petty bourgeois life satisfied me. A normal life of work, sports, hobbies, friends. A life without secrets. I could pretend with everyone, even myself. But the deception didn't last forever. The shadow begins to stretch again when, after the zenith, the sun resumes its daily path. The shadow slowly and deviously invades our hearts again. At first you feel something strange; a sense of emptiness. Inexorable, the Shadow fills us. Then we understand. And we know that the abyss is calling us again. We know that we cannot hold out forever, except at the price of giving ourselves up.
No matter how many experiences we have had, as long as the heartbeat and the will to experience remains. Experimentation never ends, because there are endless people to meet and exchange emotions with. At that point we know. We are ready. We just wait for the chance. Contrary to what many people think the chance has nothing to do with luck. The opportunity comes when we are ready to recognize it and seize it. As if by magic. Nothing happens by chance. My meeting with E. was no accident. I saw her whenever we could, and we indulged in lust. Each time was more intense than the last. In the past I was bored and bored of even the most uninhibited woman. I had the feeling (right or wrong) that I had "gone around" her in a few encounters. It didn't happen with E. Our passion was fueled by an awareness of how similar we were. I wasn't wrong during the first meeting. E. knew the game and had played it in the past. He knew all the implications not only "practical" but also all the complicated psychological mechanisms that the game involved for the couple. He knew the risks. She was my accomplice, not by chance. I was completely taken by her personality, I found her so similar to me in her way of seeing life, in her open-mindedness. I had then reached the goal I had set myself, without using tricks or artifice. She was mine. Her brain was mine. The hurried kiss we exchanged every morning at the point where the subway crossed their paths illuminated my day. We spent hours writing to each other, until the pressing need to listen to our voices prompted us to call each other. As soon as the call was over, we started writing to each other again. I was never satisfied with her.
We had created a couple's profile. And we started to get in touch with many other couples. That day we would meet the first one. That's why it was my first time. It was because I'd been out of the world for years. And it was mainly because it was the first time in my life that I played with a woman I really cared about. OK, I admit it, with a woman I was in love with when I thought I couldn't do it anymore. Anyone who knows the world knows that playing with the woman you love, while infinitely riskier, increases your emotions a hundredfold. It was E. who coined the definition of "adrenaline jealousy"; I found these words perfect. They described perfectly what it feels like. Swingers are jealous. They must be. Otherwise the game loses its flavor to become just an accepted betrayal. I've never understood people who say "yes I would, but not with the woman I love". It's proof to my eyes that they don't understand what swinging is. Banally, it's not for everyone. It was definitely a thing for E. and me.
It was my first time. It was also E.'s first time. A heavy rain, a leaden sky accompanied our road trip one November. It had convinced us, by the way, of the place we'd been offered. The last word, as is normal, was yours. The fantasies of the couple's man had seduced her. I had been very happy to follow her in her choice, also because the man was accompanied by a beautiful blonde and foreign girl. E. and I had the same feminine tastes. Because E. was bisexual. She really wasn't, in the sense that she would never fall in love with a woman or desire to meet one on her own. But he knew how men love to see two women together and he didn't hesitate to show that extraordinarily exciting show.
The road seemed endless and the rain was pouring down as we arrived. We were welcomed into a beautiful living room. A large window allowed our gaze to sweep over the lake. It was intimate and evocative. In one corner a fireplace crackled while 2 large sofas promised to be a perfect alcove. The embarrassment was palpable, at least on our part. But I admired E.'s skill and sensitivity. He entertained the conversation fluently, and was not a pretty figurine. I admired her, and foretold what was to come. The girl was really beautiful. The thought that I would soon see her enjoying it intoxicated me. I didn't do anything to force the timing. The magic moment arrived. The girl said she was going to take a shower. She emerged dressed only in a bathrobe. That was the signal. The two girls started kissing. First shyly, then deeper and deeper. I could see their tongues intertwining and couldn't believe my eyes. It was happening. It was really happening! E. took off her towel and the girl appeared naked. I was sitting next to them while the man watched a couple of yards away. The she-wolf was perfect. She took the blonde's hand and put it on my pants. Without me having to make the slightest gesture. She undressed me and asked the other one with a malicious air, "Will you help me?" The she-wolf was bringing me her prey. The two mouths began to fight over my cock, their mouths took turns over every inch of my cock. When one took it deep into my throat, the other played with my balls; and vice versa. I was in heaven.
His partner came too. E. broke off and without any embarrassment (she liked the man) sat on her knees. Those lips that had sucked my cock were now kissing a stranger. It was my turn to reciprocate the mysterious blonde. I pledged to lick her and had the satisfaction of finding her already soaked. My slow work finally produced the desired result. The girl gasped in her first orgasm. True or fake? Of course I'll never know. I can only hope that the first answer is the right one. With my eyes I didn't lose sight of E. And I felt for the first of many times the adrenaline jealousy. Even the she-wolf was enjoying her feast. Seeing her transport produced in me a mixture of indescribable sensations, from which neither anger nor jealousy were absent, but which pushed me to love her even more. I finally penetrated the beautiful blonde. E. looked at me. The girl's ankles were on my shoulders, completely offered to me. After rubbing against the crack for a long time, I slowly entered her. Then I asked her to get on all fours. She obeyed and arched her back showing me her flushed pussy and her anus still closed. I mounted her and spared her nothing. It wasn't until she told me she was annoyed that I came out of her desecrated ass. The last blows were wild. I'd lost all restraint and grabbed her hair. When she whispered (we all heard) "fuck me" I came.
The fire was still crackling, the evening fell on the lake and a thousand bright spots appeared on the other side.
No matter how many experiences we have had, as long as the heartbeat and the will to experience remains. Experimentation never ends, because there are endless people to meet and exchange emotions with. At that point we know. We are ready. We just wait for the chance. Contrary to what many people think the chance has nothing to do with luck. The opportunity comes when we are ready to recognize it and seize it. As if by magic. Nothing happens by chance. My meeting with E. was no accident. I saw her whenever we could, and we indulged in lust. Each time was more intense than the last. In the past I was bored and bored of even the most uninhibited woman. I had the feeling (right or wrong) that I had "gone around" her in a few encounters. It didn't happen with E. Our passion was fueled by an awareness of how similar we were. I wasn't wrong during the first meeting. E. knew the game and had played it in the past. He knew all the implications not only "practical" but also all the complicated psychological mechanisms that the game involved for the couple. He knew the risks. She was my accomplice, not by chance. I was completely taken by her personality, I found her so similar to me in her way of seeing life, in her open-mindedness. I had then reached the goal I had set myself, without using tricks or artifice. She was mine. Her brain was mine. The hurried kiss we exchanged every morning at the point where the subway crossed their paths illuminated my day. We spent hours writing to each other, until the pressing need to listen to our voices prompted us to call each other. As soon as the call was over, we started writing to each other again. I was never satisfied with her.
We had created a couple's profile. And we started to get in touch with many other couples. That day we would meet the first one. That's why it was my first time. It was because I'd been out of the world for years. And it was mainly because it was the first time in my life that I played with a woman I really cared about. OK, I admit it, with a woman I was in love with when I thought I couldn't do it anymore. Anyone who knows the world knows that playing with the woman you love, while infinitely riskier, increases your emotions a hundredfold. It was E. who coined the definition of "adrenaline jealousy"; I found these words perfect. They described perfectly what it feels like. Swingers are jealous. They must be. Otherwise the game loses its flavor to become just an accepted betrayal. I've never understood people who say "yes I would, but not with the woman I love". It's proof to my eyes that they don't understand what swinging is. Banally, it's not for everyone. It was definitely a thing for E. and me.
It was my first time. It was also E.'s first time. A heavy rain, a leaden sky accompanied our road trip one November. It had convinced us, by the way, of the place we'd been offered. The last word, as is normal, was yours. The fantasies of the couple's man had seduced her. I had been very happy to follow her in her choice, also because the man was accompanied by a beautiful blonde and foreign girl. E. and I had the same feminine tastes. Because E. was bisexual. She really wasn't, in the sense that she would never fall in love with a woman or desire to meet one on her own. But he knew how men love to see two women together and he didn't hesitate to show that extraordinarily exciting show.
The road seemed endless and the rain was pouring down as we arrived. We were welcomed into a beautiful living room. A large window allowed our gaze to sweep over the lake. It was intimate and evocative. In one corner a fireplace crackled while 2 large sofas promised to be a perfect alcove. The embarrassment was palpable, at least on our part. But I admired E.'s skill and sensitivity. He entertained the conversation fluently, and was not a pretty figurine. I admired her, and foretold what was to come. The girl was really beautiful. The thought that I would soon see her enjoying it intoxicated me. I didn't do anything to force the timing. The magic moment arrived. The girl said she was going to take a shower. She emerged dressed only in a bathrobe. That was the signal. The two girls started kissing. First shyly, then deeper and deeper. I could see their tongues intertwining and couldn't believe my eyes. It was happening. It was really happening! E. took off her towel and the girl appeared naked. I was sitting next to them while the man watched a couple of yards away. The she-wolf was perfect. She took the blonde's hand and put it on my pants. Without me having to make the slightest gesture. She undressed me and asked the other one with a malicious air, "Will you help me?" The she-wolf was bringing me her prey. The two mouths began to fight over my cock, their mouths took turns over every inch of my cock. When one took it deep into my throat, the other played with my balls; and vice versa. I was in heaven.
His partner came too. E. broke off and without any embarrassment (she liked the man) sat on her knees. Those lips that had sucked my cock were now kissing a stranger. It was my turn to reciprocate the mysterious blonde. I pledged to lick her and had the satisfaction of finding her already soaked. My slow work finally produced the desired result. The girl gasped in her first orgasm. True or fake? Of course I'll never know. I can only hope that the first answer is the right one. With my eyes I didn't lose sight of E. And I felt for the first of many times the adrenaline jealousy. Even the she-wolf was enjoying her feast. Seeing her transport produced in me a mixture of indescribable sensations, from which neither anger nor jealousy were absent, but which pushed me to love her even more. I finally penetrated the beautiful blonde. E. looked at me. The girl's ankles were on my shoulders, completely offered to me. After rubbing against the crack for a long time, I slowly entered her. Then I asked her to get on all fours. She obeyed and arched her back showing me her flushed pussy and her anus still closed. I mounted her and spared her nothing. It wasn't until she told me she was annoyed that I came out of her desecrated ass. The last blows were wild. I'd lost all restraint and grabbed her hair. When she whispered (we all heard) "fuck me" I came.
The fire was still crackling, the evening fell on the lake and a thousand bright spots appeared on the other side.
