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Over the next few days, as if that first night with the group had unlocked something in us, my husband and I played a game of how far will we go? Then I watched him get various blowjobs while random faces dove between my legs.

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All along, while guards came down and boundaries got pushed, my husband and I checked in with each other and the other couples did the same. This was probably because I was doing it too. Maybe my recovery from sex addiction was more about indulging my sexuality than restricting it. Maybe those were surefire routes to breaking us apart.

Some of the best sex I had on the trip was with my husband alone in our pristine, childless hotel room, as we went over our daily adventures. On our third day, as we moved from Desire Pearl to Desire Riviera Maya, which had an even more rambunctious crowd, we met a firefighter and his wife at the bar.

I Was a Jealous Partner Until I Went on a Swingers Vacation

We hit it off right away, talking about our respective neighborhoods back home, our jobs, and our children. She had kind eyes and a soft voice. She smiled often and asked thoughtful questions, which I liked. She seemed to care about us, which I later learned was important to her. Connection turned her on. To buy time, I ask a question that I rarely ever asked at the height of my sexual addiction.


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They both shake their heads. I scan the room quickly. Surely, at a place like this, condoms would be as abundant as miniature bottles of shampoo.

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I check the fridge, an odd last resort. My breathing slows and I feel the mood shift. The husband and wife settle into our bed to cuddle and chat and I nuzzle into my husband beside them, but I have no interest in chatting with them anymore. The wife tells us a story about another swinger couple they know back home. She watched him have sex with multiple people and had no problem for years. This woman was taking her place in the most surprising and unusual way.

Watching her kind eyes bounce from her husband back to us, seeing her soft curls on my pillow, feeling her light caress on my arm as she talks—I suddenly want them to leave immediately. In some cases, there was prolonged courting; sometimes the courting was closer to grooming; but mostly, the stories ended in the stammering pulses of orgasm. There was complexity and beauty and violence even, in the way the women experienced the same event.

In these ways and more, it was the female parts of an interlude that, in my eyes, came to stand for the whole of what longing in America looks like.

13 People Reveal Their Deepest And Darkest Desires | Thought Catalog

To say someone always gets what she wants is to detach her from human experience, as the ability to get what one wants is necessarily bound by geography, the law, the wills of other people, or banal technical difficulties. What appears to be a straightforward relationship—I want something that I can or cannot have—branches off into hypotheticals and counterfactuals, compromise and denial and acquiescence.

Desire becomes tangled with everything else. There are many sides to all stories, but this is theirs. All come from backgrounds that could be called conservative, or else provincial. Their couples therapist sees nothing wrong with this. The jerk is married.

Sex in the Mirror

The final account belongs to Sloane, a beautiful, sophisticated East Coast restaurateur in her forties who has sex with men and women her husband selects for her—sometimes in front of him and, at other times, while recording the interactions. A day of reckoning comes when the wife of one of these men confronts her. Like, I have this very specific fantasy of being at a party or something and men and women are talking down to me, degrading me, all the while touching me while I'm super embarrassed and humiliated but also am really starting to enjoy it. So then they'll make comments like, 'Oh, you like that, slut?

You getting wet now? She's such a whore,' but then they keep taking turns touching me and I can feel everyone laughing at me and watching until I come. I knock on a door wearing a sexy red cape with my little basket of goodies, but I'm surprised by who answers. It's not the person I was expecting. It's a man I don't know and we're standing close, too close for strangers.


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The rugged, slightly dangerous-feeling wolf replies, 'The better to see you with, my dear,' and I can feel his eyes traveling over my body. The wolf leans in closer and says, 'The better to touch you with, my dear,' and puts his hands between my legs.

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There are rose petals laid across the bed and it smells really musky yet sweet. We kiss as they lay me down on the bed, keeping eye contact between kisses, and we undress each other. We go into the missionary position, we have sex, with maybe a little kinkiness, but not too much.

We both fall asleep and when we wake, cuddle and talk about how much we love each other and go to brunch 'cause why not? I find it so erotic to be really full and then shamelessly humiliated. My tummy is by far the most erogenous zone on my body. But secretly, I want to know what another girl would taste like.

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I'd love to go down on a girl once. Like just me and nine or ten women. Just to completely overwhelm me. When to turn it up, whether to move it around or keep it still, when to just do my thing and have an orgasm. The thing I like is the orgasm, not sex. Sex is meh. Orgasms, though? I like the idea of him humiliating me or sharing me with his friends.

Then one day, a hot, muscular, gray-haired lumberjack forty- or fiftysomething years old comes to my cottage. We will first have some hot drinks and talk by the fireplace. We will get to know each other, but it will take few days. Then after that we will have a week of intense steamy passionate sex everywhere: on my wooden bed, on the sofa in front of the fireplace, outside in the forest, etc. My favorite one will be when he ties me to a tree trunk and we have some bondage sex. Would send me over the edge if someone stopped and watched. All of them focusing on me.

I know it's selfish, but it's my fantasy, right? By the end of the night, we would be so desperate to fuck each other that we wouldn't even have time to get undressed before he would pull me on top of him, push my panties to the side, and let me ride him right there in the driver's seat of his car in the parking lot. In the rain would be even more amazing.