Celebrating Our Mortality — with a Foursome

Our first group sex experience was a coming together of two secure, sensual couples, all of us trying to drink up as much life as we could.

Enjoy this adaptation from my novel, Pretty Kinky for a Love Story, available now on Amazon.

Jack called me out right away on my manic behavior. “Don’t you think we’re moving a little fast?” he inquired, looking over my shoulder at the Kasidie couple’s profile. “I mean, they’re really cute, and they seem cool, but…”

I knew that Jack wasn’t entirely wrong, but I had my reasons. For one, I was sick of being a total novice at non-monogamy. I wanted experience, and hadn’t Tarah’s advice been to date around? How else would we know what we really wanted?

Plus, things with Ned and Tarah seemed slightly off. They flirted constantly, but they both seemed noncommittal about another date. We also recognized that their Kentucky couple was returning home for the summer, and we would be on the back burner.

And finally, the girl sex. Tarah didn’t seem much interested in me, not the way she was into Jack. I was still itching for my bestie-with-benefits-and-boobs, and this Kasidie girl was cute.

In fact, they were both attractive. Their pics ran the full gamut from sweet — cuddling on a boat in their college gear — to smutty — her, modeling a bejeweled butt plug. Their messages and writeup were polished, grammar perfect; my librarian radar sensed intelligence.

Jack ultimately agreed, and I reached out. We set up a date within mere days.

Andrew and Laine were honest and direct from the start. Before our first date, they texted a warning that they wouldn’t be in the mood to play that night — Laine was on her period and crampy. At the restaurant, they opened up immediately about their feelings for each other and how they structure their monogamish relationship. It clearly had depth and closeness comparable to my relationship with Jack.

This couple was secure, and they were secure in what they wanted. They too had more experience than us, but they seemed to make better guides than Ned and Tarah. Andrew and Laine only played together, whether at Hedo or at home. Their long-time boyfriend had recently moved away, and now they were looking for friends-with-benefits at home. Vacations were only once-in-awhile things, and the dopamine kick from sex play was desired year-round.

They were not coy nor shy; they were funny and fun and easy. They were local to this area, too, and college sweethearts, joined at the hip since freshman orientation. After college, they had taken a different path than ours, mastering their careers, but now they were eager to start a family and were looking into a surrogate.

They were intriguing yet relatable. The conversation never faltered.

Laine is tall, slim, and blonde. She’s quiet in a comfortable way, happy to let Andrew be the chatterbox. She smiles at him often, and when she adds her two cents she’s graceful and warm. I liked her immediately.

Him, too. Andrew is also tall, but dark haired. He’s inspired and affable, a real can-do guy. He didn’t shy away from my real-talk, even bringing it to the table himself. “Do you know why most people really do this? Truly, deep down?”

My eyes met his. I didn’t miss a beat. “Mortality,” I said.

His eyes widened and his face broke out into a grin. For a moment he was speechless. “Yes. Mortality. Exactly.”

“We’re all going to die, eventually,” I said.

“Might as well enjoy the ride,” Jack added.

The four of us sat in silence for a moment, grins plastered to our faces. We’d met a match — another one — and we knew it.

~

Two weeks later, we sent the kids away and had Laine and Andrew over our house. We ordered pizza, made our own drinks, and chatted around the kitchen table. After taking tokes from the water bong, we went into the hot tub — naked, because they were Hedo people, too. I was comforted by the like-mindedness.

In the hot tub, our conversation made a swift turn toward sex. Jack nonchalantly offered up the information on my orgasmic qualities. “Eliza is a cum machine,” he said. “I can make her orgasm dozens of times in a row just by fingering her g-spot. Want to see?” Sometimes I find Jack overly eager, but not that night. I was already in the mood, and I settled into a submissive mindset. I do love how he objectifies me in our sexual realm. Fist bite.

Andrew and Laine seemed to like it, too.

And like that, we were headed upstairs to rinse off in the shower, which turned into a makeout session. Me, kissing Laine. Andrew and I kissing. Laine and Jack kissing. Hands everywhere.

The scene moved to our bed, where Laine and I lay side by side, getting eaten out and then fingered by the other’s husband. She was spent long before I was done, long before Jack would let me be done. I relinquished all control to him; I’d make him proud here.

I was a Good Girl that night.

Jack made good on his bragging from the hot tub. He took over again from Andrew, demonstrating the firm pushing with his fingers that I like best. Andrew’s technique was to move his fingers in and out more quickly, which also did the job, as we all learned upon me being passed back to him. Laine gave it a go, and I loved her high, squeaky voice moaning above my face as her slim fingers worked inside my pussy, her breasts bouncing above mine. By the time I was handed back to Jack, I was beyond comprehending, woozy and dripping with sex like the little slut I was.

I licked and suckled at Laine’s pussy, savoring that copper penny taste that I’d only heard about before, being too squeamish to ever taste my own fluids. I savored the view from my spot between her legs, her flat stomach extending to two tiny titties, her upturned nose above her moaning mouth. I relished the feel of her smooth face in between my legs, when it was my turn. Yes, I verified. Yes, I like women. Fuck YES.

Jack and Andrew liked watching us, but they were also a little impatient, in my opinion. We spent the next two hours trying out every conceivable four-way move that the guys could dream up.

Me, getting fucked from behind by Andrew, while eating out Laine, who was giving Jack head.

Me, licking Andrew’s balls while getting fingered by Laine, who was getting eaten out by Jack.

Getting fucked in my magical missionary position by Andrew, while Laine and Jack did who-knows-what. My first orgasm at the cock of a man other than Jack.

Watching Andrew fuck Laine, admiring their style, like live porn on my bed, while Jack gently stroked me.

When we had exhausted ourselves completely, we chilled all together on the bed. We easily talked away another hour in the nude, now covered in dried, sticky excretions, all our hair in disarray. I’d never felt more natural in a social situation, and I wondered if perhaps this was some quirk of the INFJ personality type.

After we kissed them goodnight and sent them on their way, Jack and I fell back into bed, fucking for at least another hour. Sleep was not our top priority that night.

We couldn’t stop smiling. We couldn’t stop the tingles of excitement that still shot through our veins the next morning.

We were official now, we’d said, though we’d say this time and again with each new sexual adventure that we embarked on over the next year, until another guy who’d just watched me fist his wife told Jack, “Dude, stop saying you’re new.” Ned had been telling me on repeat that “There’s no handbook for this.” Nor were there any clear labels, as Tarah constantly reminded us over the year that followed.

But after Andrew and Laine, it was different. Jack and I had officially had penis-in-vagina sex with other people now. No matter how you defined sex — remember, we’re a little fuzzy on the definition, given those first two years of non-fucking fuckery — we now qualified as having had multiple extramarital sex partners.

We’d broken the seal.

Interested in more? Perhaps you’d like to read my novel, Pretty Kinky for a Love Story, available now on Amazon.