Swinging In Paradise: Desire Recap

Ah, Swingset Takes Desire.  It’s so hard to articulate what an experience it was, even after being home for over a month. I remember reading about last year’s trip before signing on for this year, and thinking it couldn’t really be the life-changing experience people touted it as being. I read the #ssdesire hashtag on Twitter and saw all the people who didn’t want to cut off their wristbands from the resort. ‘It’s just a vacation,’ I thought to myself. ‘Get over it.’

I was that person this year. At the risk of sounding like a shill for the company brand (and I should clarify that I paid the full cost for the vacation myself, not paid/discounted by either Swingset or Desire Resort and Spa), I have to say it’s not just a vacation. It is a life-changing experience.

We’re going again next year.

That is almost entirely due to the people we met. Swingsetters are something special. I had no idea I would be returning home with so many amazing new friends, and some connections that go well into crush/new relationship territory. Until this trip, we’d been poly in theory. Coming out of it, we’re ready to take more steps forward into that relationship style.

There’s really too much to put in a single post, so I’ll focus on a recap of the highlights of the trip. There was so much more learning about myself and Flick, about our relationship, and about our relationships with other partners than I would have ever imagined from a fuckation. But for now, let’s look at all the awesome.

We got in around 10pm the first night, which was tough because we missed all the first night festivities--welcome party, prize giveaways etc. We had a solo, quiet shuttle ride from the airport and I found myself kind of embarrassed to be going to such a place. ‘He knows we’re perverts,’ was the refrain in my head as we got closer and closer to the resort. Once we arrived, we didn’t care anymore. Our wonderful, sexy friends were waiting for us in the restaurant, and we felt extremely special as the concierge personally escorted us to the restaurant to meet them. After a quick kiss and cuddle, we scarfed some dinner before the restaurant closed, dumped our bags in our room, took a few deep breaths, and headed to the hot tub.

I felt a little self-conscious getting nude for the first time, but I saw naked bodies all around me, in all shapes and sizes. I took another deep breath, dropped my wrap, shoved it in a cubby, and headed to the tub, pretending it was the most normal thing in the world to be doing.  I floated over to a group of people and was soon wrapped in the arms of my sexy friend Will, getting introduced around, and making out like crazy because he and I hadn’t seen each other in months.

Flick and I had planned to just go visit for a little while in the tub--we’d been travelling for more than 12 hours on 2 hours sleep--but as soon as Will suggested he and I go play together on one of the nearby beds, I was suddenly energized. I checked in with Flick, who wished us well. There is often talk in hokey romance novels of the world disappearing when lovers kiss, but I have to say, the noise and music of the hot tub area simply vanished while Will and I were getting our sexy on, and it was a bit of a shock to notice it all again when we came up for air.

Will and I returned to the tub for a while and joined in conversations where I got to meet people I’d chatted with in the pre-Desire chats and had perved their pics on Kasidie.com. Several people didn’t recognize me until I introduced myself, which was a good reminder to do so instead of just smiling at people and wondering why they hadn’t said hi.  Still unable to keep our hands off one another, soon enough Will and I needed to return to the beds next to the hot tubs for another round, before more hot tub time and conversation.  Much later than expected, Flick and I headed to our room and slept deservedly well.

We spent the next morning lounging on a beach bed and connected with Peach and Mal, a couple we’d chatted with on Kasidie and were really looking forward to getting to know better. They were super sexy and super geeky, our favourite combination. Will also came by and before we knew it, Will had fetched Elle and the six of us were headed back to Peach and Mal’s room for our first ever orgy. Wheeee! This trip was off to a good start!

The day was full of conversation, sexy and otherwise, laughter, flirting, kissing, frolicking in the ocean, dancing, hot tub. I’d never spent this much time naked in front of people and most of the time, it felt effortless. I had a weird thing where I felt the need to wear clothing, even a fairly sheer wrap, as I went from place to place in the resort, but was fine being naked once I was settled somewhere. Brains are weird.

The next day was more of the same, beach bed, flirting, ocean, kissing, dancing, and a fun group dinner. I’d found my groove. It was so effortless and comfortable to be there. That night I got fingered on the edge of the hot tub by Wes and Will until I overheard people sitting below discussing their fear of getting ‘Gallaghered’ by my ejaculate. Turns out, it is challenging to come back to an orgasm while laughing hysterically at the visual of having to hand out plastic garbage bags to all nearby spectators.  

Flick and I partook in our second ever orgy and I had the pleasure of having the njoy eleven expertly wielded upon my person by Will, while surrounded by Flick, Elle, Wes, and Raina. 4 extra sets of eyes belonging to incredible, sexy people heightening every sensation, and after I’d orgasmed out, we broke into many delightful configurations, ending with me fingering Will to orgasm as the others surrounded, stroked, and sucked him. A perfect bookend to the beginning of the proceedings.

There was a foam party in the pool the next day, which was simultaneously the best and worst time ever. The resort was having trouble with the foam cannon, and must have kept adding more and more detergent because when it finally worked, the foam was thick, toxic, and burning on the eyes. It also created foam so tall that there was a risk of drowning or suffocation. We solved the problem (somewhat) with much ridiculous bouncing, and best-thing-ever three-way makeout sessions that created perfect pockets of air that felt happy and safe until you broke away and realized you were suffocating in foam. Still, much laughter and fun, and sexy slippery times ensued.  

We danced a bunch to the lobby band that evening, having a great time until I experienced my one and only moment on non-consensual touch when a drunken Swingsetter stroked my pasty-covered nipple without seeking permission. My nipples are a real red flag zone for me so that was especially not okay. He looked shocked and chagrined by my strong response, but later, I found myself beating myself up for not stopping him, instead of being angry for him assuming that I would stop him if I wasn’t okay with it. Enthusiastic yesses are what’s required for consent, not expecting someone to stop you if they don’t want the touch. That singular event was the only time I was touched without permission all week, which speaks to the overall awesomeness of Swingsetters and how clearly the message of the importance of consent has been embraced by the community as a whole. Celebrating not receiving bad touch says something about how messed up ideas of consent are in general society, but that’s a whole other topic.

That night brought the high school play party, which started out well for us, but quickly went downhill. You can read all the details in Swinging in the Deep End.

Coming up in Part Two: three person handjob, the live Life on the Swingset podcast, phone photo misinterpretation drama, my first time as a unicorn, using my words, more sexy shenanigans, and painful goodbyes.

The Pup Part Three: The Return

After three weeks of total radio silence from The Pup, I received an apology text saying he was sorry he'd disappeared so suddenly, but he'd been caught up in his parents' divorce drama and he'd gone to a dark place, but if I was willing, he'd like to start seeing each other again.

Well fuck.

There's a part of me that had been hoping for exactly that kind of message since he first vanished. Something that assured me that it wasn't in fact that I'm too ____ or not ____ enough for him to want to continue our relationship. We'd had such a great connection and I definitely want that -- and the awesome sex that came with -- back, but I'm also someone who has let others walk all over me in the past and I don't want to let myself get back into that sort of situation.

I also worry whether he has the kind of emotional maturity to be in the kind of FWB situation I'm looking for if got so fucked up by family drama that he couldn't thumb the words 'thank you' in response to a text wishing him a happy birthday.  I was his age when my dad died from cancer and I didn't shut down and block people from my life.

So I told him I'd think about it and that I'd been really hurt by the way he treated me. He apologized, admitted his mistake, and said he misses me. Double fuck. This would be so much easier if he were an asshole and could just write him off. It does speak to his character that he did have the ovaries to send me a message, though. He could have just left it be. I'm sure that getting back in my pussy is a pretty strong motivator, but I could have reacted really angrily to him and he was willing to put himself in front of that potential rage bomb.

After a night of pondering and a very sweaty morning yoga class, I decided to give him another shot. I messaged him to tell him that I'm game but that he's going to have to prove his emotional maturity and offer of friendship before things get sexual between us again. He has agreed so we'll see how it goes.

If nothing else, I practiced demanding respect and consideration, which isn't a muscle I exercise often. And if all goes well, I'll have my fun fuck buddy back. Plus, I finally have an answer to that big, fat WHY?

The Pup Part Two: Headgames and Heartbreak

I knew developing feelings for people was a risk I was taking when we opened things up, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly, or that those feelings would be for someone who would, unexpectedly and (seemingly) out of character, treat me cruelly.

I'd really been hoping when I wrote the last post that all my weird insecurities and fears that The Pup was doing 'the fadeaway' despite his assertions to the contrary were in my imagination. When I mentioned his decreased communication, he apologized, promised to improve, then stopped messaging all together.

*sigh*

I just don't get it. If he decided he wasn't interested in me, I don't understand why he wouldn't simply tell me and cut it off cleanly. His last message to me was,  "Ooh, I'd love that" when I mentioned getting together when he was finished his exams. I sent him two more texts after that, one congratulating him for being done with his exams, then one a few days later wishing him a Happy Birthday. Nothing.

By the time I sent the Birthday message, I was pretty sure it was done. It had been 5 days since his last confusingly-enthusiastic message, but I was finally coming to terms with believing his actions rather than his words. As an anxious person, I really try to take people at their words because I can't always trust my interpretation of actions. Someone glances at me, I think they're judging me and finding me wanting. Someone doesn't seem as excited to hear from me as I'm expecting, I assume they dislike me. I know I have a warped sense of people's responses to me, so I tend to believe words. When the words are running really contrary to actions, it really fucks with me.

I decided to be classy, despite wanting to send a 'What the absolute fuck?" message, and I sent him a text wishing him Happy Birthday, said it had been nice getting to know him, and wished him the best for the future.

Nothing.

I guess I shouldn't have expected a response. When you cut off contact with someone, you cut off contact, but there was no discernible reason to do so, so I kept racking my brain to figure out what I'd done wrong. Of course, my brain being the hyper-critical place it is, I was able to come up with everything I'd said and done since we'd met as a reason for why he'd dump me without notice.

It's especially shitty because I'd totally fallen for him. He'd seemed so nice, so genuine, so geeky - all the things that normally signify a good guy. He had a cat. He volunteered with troubled teens. How could he end up being the kind of guy who would just brick wall me? How could he not respect me enough to just tell me he didn't want to see me anymore?

How am I not worth a couple words in a text message?

That final question is really what has caused me the most distress over the past few weeks as I grappled with having my heart broken by someone for the first time in over 20 years (who didn't die or move away). I went from the high of feeling like this awesome, sexy, desirable, confident older woman that he should feel lucky to get to be with to a piece of discarded trash, unworthy of respect or consideration, even from a 'nice' guy.

I was pretty shattered and sank into a fairly dark funk that I'm only now crawling out of - the timing of everything paired with the anniversary of my mother's death and mother's day back to back to back really adding to the pain and despair. I've felt really guilty as well, since my husband has had to be witness to my heartbreak over another guy. It's been hard to talk about it with him, yet he's the person I go to when I'm in pain and need to talk. One of the weirdest parts of this style of relationship.

I'm back on the dating horse (only way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Amirite?) I've chatted with a few people and even slept with one of them, though I have to confess that our connection was nothing like what I'd had with the pup. Eventually, I will stop comparing people to him and the feeling of loss will fade.

I know that it will just take some time, and that even if I had an answer to my 'But Why????', I might like it even less than the stuff I've come up with.  It's still exceedingly difficult not to keep thinking it would be better if I only knew why.

The Pup

I started chatting with a young guy (26 to my 41!) from okcupid after he messaged me. He's a fellow geek and we had a ton to chat about which made it easy. He's definitely got a thing for older women and since I seem to have a thing for younger guys, it worked out well. We texted like mad for about two weeks before we were able to hook up. Finding time that wasn't already booked with other social activities was tricky enough, coupled with needing to find time when my husband was off at other activities so he didn't feel displaced from the house for my dates.

During those two weeks my ego received a delightful stroking. He was so eager. Constantly talking about how he couldn't wait for it to be the day we'd planned to meet up. We chatted and sexted and exchanged photos. He even sent me video of him jacking off and coming, which I find ridiculously hot. My husband and I started calling him 'the pup' when I first started chatting with him (a reference to a hated nickname my husband had been given by one of her other boyfriends when he was 19 and dating a much older woman), but it turned out to be a surprisingly accurate for my new beau.

I'd attempted to scare him off with really detailed descriptions of our other activities. He'd never been in a non-monogamous relationship and I wasn't sure he could handle it up close, but he just thought my descriptions of other partners and encounters were hot. He even talked me through my nerves before a date with another guy when I started freaking out and considered cancelling - It's going to be great. You're going to have such a good time. He's gonna fuck you so good. At that point, I was kind of smitten.

When we first started chatting, I was worried about him being insecure, but as he got comfortable, he got confident, going as far as to ask me to greet him at the door for our first hook-up totally naked. I ovaried-up and did so. It was pretty exhilarating. He's really skilled as well - maybe a little chintzy with the oral the first time round but we'd engaged in two weeks of foreplay so I don't blame him - we've had great sex together. Really. Great. Sex.

It's after the sex that things get weird. He doesn't want to stick around for long, which I hear is a typical guy thing, but I'm used to the lingering chatting of swingers after the fact. I didn't ever have casual sex when I was young so I've never experienced a guy wanting to run out the door to go get Subway when the fucking is done. I know different orgasm hormones do different things to the male brain after sex but I'm still there, sexy and naked, it seems like it should be worth sticking around a while for. He doesn't text for a few days, when I'm also used to the swinger messages the day after mentioning how much fun we've had. I've ended up texting him, because I refuse to be all idle and passive, but there's that stupid Cinderella part of my brain that wants him still chasing me.

I've been so socialized to follow the fiercely engrained, patriarchal bullshit script that tells me the only way I have value is if I'm being pursued and if I give up that role, no one will want me. Yet it's the powerful, confident, take-what-I-want woman I am that attracts people to me. Strangely, I can be the powerful me during the pursuit and sex, but the passive, insecure me pops up once the afterglow wears off.

I'm hoping it's just part of the learning-curve, since I'm so new to the sluttery thing. I've been operating under the MO of pretending like all is normal and simply texting him, but the post-coital distance has been harder on me than I'd like it to be. I'm probably going to have to ovary-up in this arena as well and simply tell partners what I need/expect after the fact.

Dammit! I signed up for cock, not personal growth!

Crushing reality of crushes

It's been a very long time since I've had a crush on someone. It's been an especially long time since I've had a crush on someone and planned, and had permission, to act on it.

This is all amazing, it appears. I have this guy that I like, and if everything went well (and we could somehow end up in the same city), I could totally go fuck the hell out of him. Except, it seems that he's not as into me as I am into him.

And that is very hard on the ego.  I vacillate between thinking it doesn't matter and thinking that I should back right off. Between taking the things he says expressing interest at face value and reading the silences and non-responses as a sign of his true feelings.

And I feel kind of ridiculous and high school about the whole thing and it's embarrassing. I get the endorphin rush and high every time I see there's a message from him. Then I get the plummet and the low when I message without response or I see that pesky green dot indicating he's online but isn't chatting with me.

I suppose it's all practice and it's good to have me toughen up a bit. I'm putting myself out there and being vulnerable. It's not always going to be met with a yes, and from behind the safety of the computer screen is going to be easier than in person. For an anxious person like me, it's still incredibly difficult.

But I guess that's why it's called a crush.